“As if I wouldn’t come and support my . . .” I frown. “Business partner?”
Wes laughs softly and shakes his head. “Sure. Well, thanks for coming.”
He turns to leave, and I reach out and grab at the sleeve of his green robe, widening the triangle of exposed, toned, dark skin. “Hey. Not so fast. I was going to ask if I could buy you lunch. You know? To celebrate?”
Wes glances over his shoulder at the team, but no one’s paying us any attention. “I can’t.”
“You’re going out with the team.”
He stares at me, his lips pressed together, then shakes his head. “No. It’s not that. I just, need to study. I spent a lot of time on the fundraiser this week and I don’t want to fall behind.”
Guilt floods through me and my shoulders slump. “Shit. Sorry, I—”
“It’s fine, Sol. I just have to do a bit of catching up.”
I nod, unconvinced. “Well, if you’re going to be working the rest of the day, you should definitely come to the party tonight.”
The Bees are hosting the annual ‘welcome back’ party and it’s going to be a big one. Wes opens his mouth, clearly ready to decline, but I shake my head.
“No. That’s the deal. Either you come have lunch with me now and work all night, or you work all day and then come blow off some steam at the party. Or . . . Maybe someone could blow you.”
The words tumble from my lips with a confidence I’m not feeling but the shock in Wes’ dark brown eyes is worth it. I’ve been thinking about it, a lot, and I’m ready to try. The other day when we were almost naked together, I hadn’t freaked out and I’d wanted to taste him even then. My heart slams against my chest as I watch the surprise slide from his face, replaced by lust.
“That’s a very tempting offer,” he says, a slight rasp to his words.
“Good.” I shove my hands in my pockets and step back from the railing. “I’ll see you tonight at the Hive, then.”
Without giving him a chance to decline, I stride away, hoping like hell he actually shows up.
* * *
The Hive is packed. Some of the parties are smaller, with a more exclusive guest list, but the annual ‘welcome back’ party alternates each year between the Bees and the Wolfpack and it’s open to everyone. Even though it’s thirty-three degrees outside, the party has spilled out onto both the Hive’s front and back yards with crowds gathering around blazing fire pits. With the surrounding expanse of evergreen trees and the huge mountains looming above them, it creates a kind of camp atmosphere that kicks up a ton of nostalgia.
There’s something else about this party, though. It feels . . . different. For a start, my boys are nowhere to be found. Alex and Sasha are curled up in a chair somewhere and probably won’t last long before they disappear to her room. Zak had a couple of drinks with me, but now he’s disappeared, too. I know enough people here that I don’t feel alone, but there’s just something in the air. I can’t put my finger on it.
Perhaps it has something to do with the knot of nerves in my stomach. A certain tall, dark, and handsome swimmer hasn’t shown up yet, and I’m starting to wonder whether he’s going to bail. The Howl shared the student version of the flier for the fundraiser ball this morning and I’ve been stopped at least twenty times tonight with people asking about it or promising to get their parents to buy a table.
I do another lap of the living room before heading to the kitchen to get a drink, but a familiar deep voice seeps through the crowd and stops me in my tracks. The smile on my face freezes as I turn to find Wes in a corner, a drink in his hand and a sophomore I can’t remember the name of standing way too fucking close. When the hell did he get here? Why didn’t he text me or try to find me? But even more pressing than that, why is that guy touching him?
My jaw clenches so hard my teeth ache as I watch the sophomore trail his fingers up Wes’ bicep. This is what he said, though, wasn’t it? We’re just hooking up. No strings. I might spend all day thinking about Wes’ hands and mouth, but it’s clearly not the same for him. I mean, I’m crapping myself at the thought of trying to suck him off tonight, whereas that guy would probably let Wes fuck him in a bathroom. The thought makes my stomach swoop uncomfortably. Would he do that and then come and find me? Am I okay with that?
Forcing myself to look away, I suck in a breath and barge my way through the crowd to the kitchen. My shaking hands pour what’s probably a hell of a lot more than a double, but I don’t give a shit.No strings, I repeat to myself. I’ve done it before. I haven’t had a girlfriend in the last three and a half years, favoring flings and one night stands instead. Sure, they weren’t as frequent as Alex’s, but I liked it like that. It meant I didn’t have to dedicate time to someone, especially with lacrosse. Girlfriends meant having to choose between spending time with them over the weekend or going home to see my family. It seemed like a no brainer to not have to make that decision.
So, why is it so damn hard now?
“Hey, Sol. You okay?”
I glance down to find Peyton frowning up at me. “Hey. Yeah. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look okay.”
“Gee. Thanks.”
Her eyes sparkle as she laughs, and the muscles wound tight in my shoulders slowly start unravelling. I put extra effort in tonight, wearing my tightest fitting jeans and a navy vee neck t-shirt that shows off the top of my pecs. It’s my ‘sure lay’ outfit, but as my eyes dart in the direction of Wes, even though he’s hidden by a wall, I wonder why I even bothered.
“The fundraiser sounds awesome,” Peyton says, pulling me back to her. Her hand is on my arm, stroking gently.
I take a sip of my drink, wincing at the ridiculous vodka to cola ratio. “Yeah, I’m super excited about it.”