Page 14 of Beyond the Lines
“Or standing. Or existing in our current plane of reality.” He studies my wedges. “Though they do make your legs look amazing.”
Heat creeps up my neck at the compliment, but his tone is more observational than leering. And something about this guy puts me at ease—maybe it’s the way he keeps a respectful distance, even when I’m right next to him.
“Thanks. I think.” I adjust my dress, suddenly very aware of how short it is. “I let my roommate dress me.”
“Ah, the blind trust of new friendship.” He grins. “How’s that working out for you tonight?”
“Well, I’m sitting on a tree stump at one in the morning with a stranger, so…” I trail off, hesitating about how much I’m telling this guy.
He must read my expression, because he adds, “Full disclosure: I’m only out here because I hate EDM, I hate parties like this, and I like air. Also, I’ve been watching that girl… Sarah? Sienna?— ” He nods toward the phone-yelling woman. “—‘destroy some guy named Brad for the last ten minutes. It’s better than Netflix.”
I can’t help but smile. “What’d Brad do?”
“Well, he’s currently up to three counts of being a ‘lying, cheating bastard’ and one count of ‘thinking with his dick instead of his brain.’ ” He fakes a serious expression. “The prosecution’s case seems pretty solid, although at times she seems on the verge of dropping the charges….”
This draws a long, genuine laugh from me. “Sounds like Brad’s having a worse night than I am.”
“So youarehaving a bad night.” His expression turns sympathetic. “Party not living up to expectations?”
We’re not quite touching, but I can feel the warmth radiating from him, quickening my pulse. “You could say that.”
“Let me guess. Your friends dragged you here promising ‘the college experience’ and then immediately abandoned you to the mercy of frat boys.”
“That’s… disturbingly accurate.” I give him an impish grin. “So what about you? Bad night?”
“Nah.” He takes a sip from a bottle of what looks like actually decent beer. “Just not that interested, after my friends basically kidnapped me tonight.”
“And are you a frat boy?”
“Hell no,” he laughs. “I live in an apartment off campus…”
“So you’re not a frat boy and you didn’t want to come,” I say, carefully. “And yet here you are.”
“Here I am.” He shrugs. “If I always did what I wanted—hole up in my room and sketch—I’d be a pretty shit friend, and?—”
My breath catches, interrupting him. “You sketch?”
“Yeah, I…” He trails off, studying me with new interest. “Why? Do you?”
“Art major,” I admit. “Though after tonight, I’m seriously considering changing it to something that requires less social interaction, like mortuary science.”
“Or biology? To figure out what’s in the punch?” He laughs, and the sound does dangerous things to my insides. “Night that bad, huh?”
“Well, let’s see. I got separated from my friends, almost got vomited on, got hit on by someone who I thought was a wall, almost twisted my ankle in these stupid shoes…” I snort, then glance back at the house, where the music has somehow gotten even louder. “Do you think our friends will notice if we don’t go back in?”
“Probably not. Though fair warning—if we stay out heremuch longer, we might witness the freshman frat pledges doing their traditional midnight performance ofSweet Caroline, totally butt naked, while standing on top of kegs… and, well, some things you just can’t unsee once you’ve seared your eyeballs…”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish.” He shudders dramatically. “I’ll never be the same again.”
I laugh again, surprised by how easy this feels. How natural. Maybe it’s the late hour, or the way the party seems far away out here in our little corner of the yard. Or maybe it’s just him—this beautiful boy who sketches and makes me laugh and doesn’t seem to mind that I’m basically a walking disaster tonight.
Don’t,warns the voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like my mother.Remember what happened last time you got swept away by a charming stranger?
But this feels different than it did with Chris.
Less like being swept away, more like… finding solid ground.
