Page 26 of Call It What You Want
Fuck.
Then I hear a burst of muffled laughter coming from the basement.
I take the stairs two at a time, the sound of the party fading as I descend into the dimly lit space below. The basement is cooler, darker, but the music gets louder. A handful of people are scattered around, some on ratty couches, others leaning against the unfinished concrete walls.
And there, in the corner near a ratty pool table, I spot her.
Ava.
She’s laughing at something someone said, her head thrown back, that silky brown hair catching in the weak basement light. She’s holding a red cup, looking more relaxed than I’ve seen her in days. And she’s surrounded by people I don’t recognize, or more accurately, people who don’t fucking matter.
My jaw clenches.
She hasn’t seen me yet.
I walk up from behind, the people surrounding her noticing me first, their conversations faltering mid-sentence, eyes going wide as they track my approach. I pause directly behind her, my gaze drilling into the back of her head.
“Ava,” someone says, nudging her, their eyes shifting up to me in warning.
“What?” Ava says, annoyed, turning around. The second her eyes meet mine, she groans. “Ugh.My warden is here.”
I take in what she’s wearing— what looks like a pair of my sweats, rolled at the waist, and one of my t-shirts, cut short to expose her smooth stomach. It looks grungy and sexy as fuck, which is a problem. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
Her eyes narrow at me. “All I have is my waitress uniform, which is filthy, so I had to figure something out.”
She’s drunk. I can see it in her half-lidded eyes, in the way her body sways. I take the drink from her hand and hurl it aside. Several people gasp and move aside as the liquid arcs through the air.
Zero fucks given.
“What the fuck?” Ava yells, shoving at my chest. “Now you owe me a phoneanda drink!”
“I owe you a lesson in obedience,” I snarl, snatching her arm. She pulls against me, but she’s drunk, so it’s a weak attempt.
“Let go of me,” she hisses, slamming the fist of her free hand into my chest. “There are actual witnesses here, Jackson. And they’re not the brainwashed members of your little cult. These people are my new friends, and they’ll step in if you try anything.”
Friends.I almost snicker at that. That’s the booze talking. These people aren’t her fucking friends. They’d give her up in a second if they thought it’d save their own skins.
With a sharp tug, I pull her closer, until there’s no space between us, until her soft body is molded to mine. “Should we test that theory?”
Her eyes narrow defiantly. “I know this might come as a shock to you,” she seethes, “but you can’t control everyone, Jackson.”
My hand tightens around her arm. “I don’t give a fuck abouteveryone,” I growl. “The only person I want to control isyou.”
CHAPTER TEN
Ava
Jackson is holding my arm, looking down at me with those cold green eyes, and I’d be lying if I said that hard, murderous look didn’t get me wet. It always has.
Fuck him, though. For real.
“Why are you even here?” I hiss, feeling much braver than I should, thanks to the four vodka shots that are currently pulsing through my bloodstream. Wait, no. Five.
“What did I say about trying to escape?” he bites out, his tone dripping with a calm that should probably terrify me. If I had any sense of self-preservation, it might.
I shake my head. “Actually,technically, I’m still on the university premises,” I point out, using my pre-planned reasoning. “I haven’t left campus, and Rush House isoncampus, so…” I shrug.
He narrows his eyes at me, his grip tightening, like he’s pissed that I’ve logic’d my way out of his punishment. Is that a word,logic’d?Hm.
