Текст книги "Scorched"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter 2

Andrea

The music beat overhead, a steady thrum that matched my pulse. My skin was damp and my throat was parched, but I felt good—no, great. I felt great—free and weightless, my head blissfully empty. Smiling, I lifted my arms up, tipped my head back and smiled.

I don’t know what song was even playing and it was probably one I’d be too embarrassed to admit I had on my iPhone, but right now I didn’t care. Tonight was perfect.

“Whoa,” a male voice said from behind me. I think his name was Todd? Tim? Taylor? Tiny Tim? I giggled. The guy lowered my right arm. “You’re going to dump this all over yourself.”

Dangling from my fingers was a slender glass, still half-full. I’d forgotten all about my drink. It was something fruity and sugary and awesome. Wrapping my lips around the straw, I slurped happily as my hips swayed to the music. I closed my eyes again, letting myself get lost in the best possible way. God, I needed tonight because of…of stuff—because of what happened last night at Kyler and Syd’s apartment, because of what Tanner had said and the ensuing pep talk from Syd that happened outside their apartment.

“I don’t think he meant anything by it,” she’d said. “I think he’s just worried. We all are worried…”

A kernel of unease popped in the pit of my belly. Worried? Why were they worried? There was nothing going on, and I shook my head, sending the curls flying. I wasn’t going to think about any of that.

But remnants of that conversation by my car floated through my clouded thoughts. You spent an entire week last month not talking to anyone.

I’d been busy.

You got really sick the last time we went out. It was scary. I was scared.

It hadn’t been that scary.

Do you even know who that guy was you left with?

I didn’t want to think about that guy or that night.

Large hands landed on my hips, and then I felt a warm and sticky breath against my cheek. The scent of beer washed over me, ramping up the unease. “You are so sexy.”

I frowned, for a moment having no idea who the dude was, and then I realized I’d also forgotten about him. Turning my head to the side, away from his, I opened my eyes. “What’s your name again?”

The question didn’t offend the guy. He laughed as his hands squeezed my hips. “You can call me whatever you want,” he said, and even as buzzed as I was, I knew what kind of guy this was. He didn’t care if I could even spell his name. All he was interested in was the likelihood of me going home with him or not. It wouldn’t even matter if I passed out on him. He probably didn’t know my name, and he really didn’t put any value to that. He wasn’t here to meet a girl he saw a future with beyond a few sweaty minutes.

The hands on my hips slid forward and his thumbs hooked through the loops on my jeans. I brought the glass to my mouth, finding it empty. Lifting my gaze, I looked around the bar. Almost immediately, I saw him and the air leaked out of my lungs.

Tanner sat at one of the tall, round tables. Kyler and Syd were with him, but their heads were bent toward each other, gazes fastened together. Tanner…he was staring at me. His blue eyes weren’t lazy-looking. They were narrowed and he looked angry—furious actually. Heat traveled across my cheeks, and I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.

A girl approached their table. I recognized her. I think. She was pretty, blonde with pink streaks in her hair, and it was obvious she worked hard to fit into those skinny jeans she wore. She went straight for Tanner, angling her body toward him. He looked up and the irritated look faded from his handsome face, replaced by an easy and welcoming smile—the kind of smile I was so rarely on the receiving end of.

“I need another drink,” I said, looking away. But it was too late. I couldn’t get that smile out of my mind. It was cute, a crooked type of grin, as if he hadn’t fully committed to a smile yet, but was happy.

“Yeah?” What’s-his-name hauled me against him, my back to his front. “I can get you a drink.”

That sounded perfect for several reasons, mainly because I wanted another drink, but I also wanted my personal space back more. Except that’s not what the guy did. He didn’t let go. Dry lips brushed my cheek as his hips grinded against my rear, and I could feel him, like really feel him.

Okay. I was done with this. I wasn’t that drunk yet.

Stepping forward, I yanked myself free—or at least tried to. I got a couple of inches between us before he pulled me back. I bounced off his chest, almost dropping my glass. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re having fun.”

“I am not having fun.” I twisted, grabbing his hand with my free one. I dug my nails in. “Let go.”

“What?” Spittle flew from his mouth, and my stomach turned a little more. “We’re just dancing. Come on. Let’s have fun.”

“I don’t even know your name,” I heard myself say, which sounded stupid to my own ears, because a handful of moments earlier, I hadn’t cared if I knew his name or not. “And you don’t even know my name.”

“Do I need to?”

I jerked to the side as someone—another couple—knocked into us, but his words held me immobile, recycling around in my head. For some reason, I suddenly wanted him to say something different. That he wanted to know my name—know me. I bet Tanner knew the name of the girl who was talking to him.

Dumb.

This was so dumb.

Tanner

My foot tapped off the sticky-ass floor at rocket speed. I didn’t know how much longer I was going to be expected to sit here and watch Andrea do whatever the fuck she was doing.

Andrea had been in a weird mood when she showed up at the bar. Quiet—almost shy in the way she had kept stealing quick glances at me. Part of me wondered if she’d been drinking before she arrived, but I really wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt and believe that she wasn’t stupid enough to drink and drive. Yeah, she liked to party and could get wild, but she wasn’t dangerously stupid or irresponsible. However, she had started drinking the moment she’d gotten here, and she hadn’t stopped. I’d lost count of how many empty glasses she had racked up.

It was going to be one of those nights.

Skin prickling like an army of fire ants was crawling all over me, I’d sat back and done nothing when she announced she wanted to dance. Syd had joined her for a while, but she had returned sans Andrea, who was turning the dance floor into her own personal showcase.

Jesus H. Christ, every pair of male eyes that weren’t on their own girls was fastened on Andrea. We were like fucking heat-seeking missiles when it came to hot chicks, and she was one hell of a flesh-and-blood target.

Those deep-red curls swung in every direction as she raised her arms above her head and swayed her hips to some rock song. Her cheeks flushed prettily and glowed with a fine sheen of sweat. The black shirt she wore rode up, revealing a quick glimpse of pale skin above the band of her jeans—and those damn jeans…they were like a glove made perfectly for her heart-shaped ass. And I still sat there, doing nothing—unable to move or look away, just like the other guys in the bar couldn’t look away. My jeans felt about five times tighter.

When some tall, goofy-looking son-of-a-bitch started grinding all up on her, I’d stayed in my chair, but I’d leaned forward and my attention had shifted. In that moment, I realized that the whole time I’d been sitting here, I’d been hardcore lusting after the girl who’d likely punch me in the nuts instead of grabbing them in a fun way. A different kind of feeling brewed inside of me. It had nothing to do with desire—more with the need to piss around Andrea like some kind of caveman. I had never, in my entire life, felt the need to do that, and I had no idea why I wanted to do it now.

Goofy SOB grabbed her hips.

My eyes narrowed as an irrational anger surfaced. Why in the fuck was she letting this guy climb all over her? He looked like a dumb motherfucker, and she deserved way better than that.

Something moved to my right, and I looked, surprised to see Lea Nacker walking toward me. She smiled as her gaze flickered over to Kyler and Sydney. “Hey,” she said, her voice carrying the soft southern drawl that announced she was not local. “I haven’t seen you all summer. I thought you’d left the city.”

“Nah. Just busy working. You?”

She tucked a long strand of pink-and-blonde hair behind her ear. “Same here. I’ve got one more semester left at UMD. You graduated, right?”

“Yep.” I glanced quickly back to where Andrea was and swallowed a curse. Goofy SOB’s hands were in an area I so did not appreciate. Was Andrea too…buzzed to realize where his hands were? Because I knew she normally wouldn’t be down with that kind of shit.

“Well, if you’re still around, give me a call,” Lea said, and my attention swung back to her. It took a moment to get what she was saying—what she was offering. “I’ll answer,” she added with a cute little smile.

Shit. Shit on a sundae.

Lea and I’d hooked up a few times over the years. Nothing serious, and normally I’d be filing that little offer away to act upon in the not too distant future, but right now, there wasn’t even a speck of interest. If I hadn’t been inappropriately hard a few moments earlier, I would’ve thought my dick had stopped working.

Feeling like an ass, I forced a smile, because I’d had a lot of fun with her and she was a good girl. “Sure.”

Lea started to say something, but my attention wandered back to where Andrea was, and I was over this conversation and being polite. Goofy SOB was tugging on Andrea, and it was obvious she was not happy with the treatment. I didn’t stop to think.

“I’ll be right back,” I announced, glancing at the couple sitting with me.

Kyler lifted a brow, but said nothing, and I kind of think he knew better. Standing, I nodded at Lea, and then didn’t look back as I crossed the floor.

Nearing the cluster of dancers, I heard Andrea say, “And you don’t even know my name.” Her words slurred together a bit, and my shoulders tensed.

“Do I need to?” the guy replied.

My gut clenched and my entire body jerked. From behind, I smacked my hand down on the guy’s shoulder. He let go of Andrea, and I saw her stumble to the side, catching herself before she lost her balance. Our eyes met briefly. Hers were glazed over, and my anger hit another level.

“Yeah, if you want to be touching her, you need to know her fucking name,” I said, flattening my hand and shoving him back a good step. Before he could react, I got between him and Andrea. “But you don’t need to know her name. You don’t even need to remember. You’re not worth any of that.”

Goofy SOB tried to step toward me, and I’m prooffucking-positive the look on my face made him change his mind. His gaze shifted away from mine. “Who the hell are you? Her boyfriend?”

I almost laughed in his face, except Andrea had already been insulted enough for the evening, even if she had no clue. “Yeah. So get the fuck out of my face before I knock you through that goddamn door.”

“Tanner.” Andrea’s hand pressed against my lower back, but I didn’t take my eyes off the guy.

Tensing, I waited for the asshole to do anything, but he raised his hand and flipped me off before turning around and stalking away. All I could do was laugh at his retreating form. The guy might be a classless asshole, but he had common sense. By appearance alone, I had a good twenty or so pounds of muscle on his scrawny ass.

The hand on my back dropped away, and I drew in a deep breath before I turned around. That was a good idea, because that breath got stuck somewhere in my chest, and I had no idea what the hell was up with that. Did ovaries replace my balls at some point? Possibly.

Andrea stared up at me, her full pouty lips parted and brown eyes wide, full of such a potent sadness that an urge to sweep her into my arms hit me hard. I barely felt whoever it was that bumped into me as I moved toward Andrea. Her lips moved but I didn’t hear her.

“What?” I asked.

“You don’t smile at me,” she said louder, and I blinked. Her shoulders rose with a heavy sigh, and that urge increased.

“Andy,” I said, shaking my head. “I always smile at you.”

“No. Not really.” She lifted her empty glass, looking down at it. “That guy had grabby hands.”

“Yeah, he did.” I didn’t want to talk about that asshole, and I wanted to change the forlorn quality to her words. Folding my hand around her smaller one, I took the empty glass out of her hand. “Come on.”

Of course, she dug her heels in. “I wanna dance.”

I lifted a brow as I walked around her, stretching our arms out as I leaned over, placing her drink on the bar. “You sure about that?”

She cocked her head to the side, brows knitting. “Yeah.” Slipping her hand free from mine, she threw her arms up and whirled around. Balance off, she stumbled to the side, right toward the group of guys waiting to get served at the bar. Oh, this was going to end badly. Shooting forward, I wrapped an arm around her waist, stopping her from face-planting some random dude’s back.

Andrea’s giggle was infectious and also concerning as she fell back against me. Placing her hands on my arm, she started to twist her hips against my groin. My jaw clenched as a jolt of lust slammed into my gut, fierce and fast.

Aaand back to the inappropriate hardness.

God, my cock freaking throbbed as I stepped back, trying to put some space between us. “Andy,” I all but groaned. “What are you doing?”

Turning her head to the side, her eyes were closed as she smiled. “I’m dancing, and you’re just standing there.”

I was just standing there.

And roughly five seconds later, she turned me into her own personal stripper pole.

Turning around, she placed her hands on my chest as she slid down, her palms trailing over my abs. I jerked on reflex, mouth dry as she reached the belt on my jeans and smiled up at me, her eyes hidden behind thick lashes. The throbbing increased tenfold.

I wanted to let her go, to see how far she’d take this. A very huge part of me wanted that so damn badly, and she was so close, practically on her knees as she stared up at me, her fingers nearing my fly.

Good God, I grabbed her wrists before she went any further, and I ended up turning into one of those guys I hated. Hauling her up, I tried not to smile when she pouted at me. “I’m taking you home,” I told her.

One coppery eyebrow lifted. “Wow, that…that escalated quickly.”

I ignored how a certain part of me got all kinds of interested. “Knock it off.”

“How about bang it off?” she said, and then tipped her head back and laughed like that made an ounce of sense. “I don’t know if I want to go home with you.”

“That’s okay.” I slipped an arm around her shoulder before she turned away from me. “Because I’m taking you back to your place, not mine.”

Her lips turned down as if she was confused by what I was saying, and I used that distraction to my advantage, guiding her toward Kyler and Sydney. Both stared at us with a look of smug knowing. I glared at them and opened my mouth, but Andrea beat me to it.

“He’s taking me hooome,” she said, laughing as she started to dance away with me. “All the waaay hooome,” she sung. “Oh yeah, we’re gonna go hooome.”

What the holy hell? My lips twitched as I caught her hand. Sydney’s eyes widened with alarm. “We can take her back.”

“You guys are having fun,” I told them. “There’s no reason for you to leave.”

Sydney raised a brow. “Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, because that’s just weird.” Andrea stopped dancing, but she swung our arms between us like she was two, and I tried not to find the act adorable. “I like you guys, but four is like more than a company. It’s like some freaky swinger shit.”

Sydney choked on her drink.

“Not that I’m saying being a swinger means anyone is a freak,” Andrea chirped on blithely. “But I’m not in a relationship so it wouldn’t be swinging. It would be an orgy, and I don’t really want to see either of you naked.”

All I could do was stare.

Kyler covered his mouth with his fingers and murmured, “Feeling is mutual.”

Andrea nodded understandingly and rather somberly, and then looked up at me, still swinging our arms. “Are we leaving now? Because I would like another drink.”

“We’re leaving now,” I said.

She sighed. “You’re no fun, you party-pooper-pants-pooper.”

“I really have no idea what to say to that,” I admitted.

Andrea rolled her eyes.

Popping up from her seat, Sydney slid Andrea’s purse over her shoulder and then gave her a quick hug. Looking up at me, she gave me her best serious face. “Anyone else, I would not let her leave, but I trust you. Don’t make me regret that trust.”

A bit of guilt burned, because it wasn’t like I was having completely clean thoughts about Andrea, especially if she did another little dance. “I know. She’ll make it home safely.”

“She better,” Sydney warned, fucking fierce for a pint-size thing.

“Y’all know, I’m like standing right here.” Andrea flipped her curls with her free hand. “Maybe I don’t want to be safe. Maybe I want to live dangerously.”

Sydney sighed. “No you don’t.”

“Maybe I want to get on my Grindr account,” she announced.

I frowned. “What?”

“You do not have a Grindr account,” Sydney said.

Andrea narrowed her eyes, looking a bit cross-eyed. “Maybe I do.”

“This is epic,” Kyler said.

“Grindr is mostly for gay guys the last time I checked,” Sydney explained, shaking her head. “And I just don’t think you really qualify for that.”

Andrea blinked. “I meant Tinder.”

“You so do not have a Tinder account,” I said.

She smiled at me, all innocence, and I suddenly wanted to burn her phone and the world down with gasoline and piss. It was time to get her home, and that process took a God-awful amount of time. She was like a drunk hummingbird, buzzing from one thing to the next, and by the time I got her inside her apartment, I was exhausted.

Apparently, Andrea had an endless supply of energy, because she dropped her purse on the floor, kicked off her heels, and immediately made a mad dash for her kitchen. I knew she was heading for something to drink, and that wouldn’t be water. Picking up her purse, I placed it on a chair, dropped her house keys in the bag, and then intercepted her.

Placing my hands on her shoulders, I steered her toward the narrow hall. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

She rocked back on her bare feet, her smile crinkling the skin around her eyes. “Geez, Tanner-man, you move fast.”

Again, inappropriate thoughts to the max. “Andy, come on. You know I’m not here for that.”

“I don’t know that,” she said, dancing away from me. She started to walk backward down the hall, her hands fluttering to the hem of her shirt. I was more concerned with her tripping and breaking her neck. “I don’t know why you’re here at all.”

My gaze dropped to where the swell of her breasts pushed against the material of her shirt as I followed her. With great effort, I managed to pull my gaze up. “I brought you home.”

“Duh.” She stopped at the entrance of her bedroom and leaned against the wall. A thin sliver of her belly was exposed as she toyed with her shirt. “Double duh.” Then she moved.

My spine straightened like someone had poured steel down it.

Damn, the image she offered right there was almost too much to resist. Her back was arched slightly and her eyes heavily hooded as she toyed with the hem of her shirt. Each breath she took raised breasts I’d always known would be fucking glorious, because if they looked that good covered up, they’d have to be marvelous with nothing hiding them. She pressed the back of her head against the wall and wetted her lips.

My cock jerked in response. “Andy…”

“Tanner…” she mimicked.

I bit back a groan, and then tensed as she suddenly pushed off the wall. She swayed a little on her feet as she eyed me. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Nuttin’.”

No way did I believe her. Wariness and a whole different kind of emotion warred inside me as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Can I ask you a question?” she asked.

“Sure.” My voice had thickened.

She tilted her head to the side, lashes lowering. “Why have we never hooked up?”

“What?” I really prayed that I heard something different.

“Are you being coy?” Andrea moved an inch closer. “Or are you just dumb?”

“Whoa. You really know how to come on to a guy.”

Her grin flashed, and then disappeared quickly. “Don’t you want—?”

“Don’t finish that question,” I cut her off, more roughly than I intended.

It was like watching air being let out of a balloon. She deflated that quickly. Shoulders lowering as her hands moved to her denim-clad thighs, she dipped her chin as she shrugged. “Yeah. Okay.” She turned sideways, toward the door, lifting her chin slightly. “I’m home. Y-You can go now.”

“Andy, I…” What could I say? That the idea of her coming on to me only when she was drunk filled me with the urge to punch something? And that when she was sober, she was more likely to stab me than smile at me?

She stopped, her lashes lifting as she looked up at me. Her smile was wan, so unlike the earlier ones. “It’s okay.”

My tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth. I had no idea what to do with her, but then she placed her hands on my chest again. There was enough time to stop her, more than enough time, but I didn’t, and I had no idea what that said about me, but then I wasn’t thinking. She stretched up as her hands reached my shoulders and she pressed her lips against mine. It was soft and quick. Andrea tasted of sugar and liquor, but her mouth was warm and sweet as her lips moved over mine.

The single kiss hit me hard, jarred me and rattled me up. So much so that when she moved away, entering the bedroom and partly closing the door behind her, I didn’t move for what felt like five minutes. No shit. There was a good chance I actually did stand there for five minutes, like some kind of dumbass with a hard-on for a girl who was so drunk I’d had to cart her sweet ass home.

But she’d kissed me.

But she’d kissed me while drunk, which canceled out the whole kissing part.

“Fuck,” I muttered, rubbing my hand over my head as I stared at the door. Part of me wanted to run, the other half was still dumbstruck. I needed to check on her. That’s what I told myself when I walked forward and pushed at her door.

The lamp was on, casting the room in a soft buttery glow. Andrea was on the bed, lying atop the covers, half on her side and half on her belly. I couldn’t leave her like that. No way. Walking over to the bed, I carefully lifted her legs and managed to get them under the comforter, shifting her so that she was safely lying on her side. Then I grabbed one of her extra-long body pillows, shoving in behind her back so she couldn’t roll over, just in case she got sick.

“You change your mind?” she mumbled.

I coughed out a laugh as I tugged up the comforter. “No, Andy.”

She sighed heavily, and when I glanced down, thick coppery-brown lashes fanned her cheeks. “Stop calling me that…dick.”

Another chuckle rumbled out of me. She was insulting me. That had to mean that I’ve seen her far worse than this. “You have such a mouth on you.”

There was no response, as she had fallen asleep. A strange, soft smile tugged at my mouth as I stared down at her.

“I’ll lock up,” I said, even though I knew she didn’t hear me. I reached for the lamp, hesitating. This wasn’t the first time I’d put her sweet ass to bed. First time she’d been a mess, drunk off her ass, but this…yeah, this was the same, except last time she hadn’t said I never smiled at her, and she hadn’t kissed me.

Rosy lips parted as she rocked a little, as if she was trying to roll onto her back but couldn’t do it. Under the covers, her legs curled up, and something…something odd in my chest clenched. Kind of like a pressure clamping down. Not necessarily bad, but different, and I had no idea what to make of that.

I never had any idea of what to make of Andrea—not from the first time I’d met her at a bar outside of College Park, sitting next to Sydney. Immediately, I had been interested in her. Fuck. Those curls? The lips? That ass? But then she’d taken one look at me, opened her mouth, and I quickly learned the girl had a razor-sharp tongue.

And she did not like me.

Oh, she wanted me. I knew that for damn sure. I’d seen the way she’d looked at me when she didn’t think I was paying attention, but I’d never let myself even think about going there. I didn’t even know why I was letting myself do it now.

But fuck, I was.

Several curls had toppled across her freckled cheek, and without thinking, I reached down and carefully brushed them back. The contact with her silky soft cheek sent a jolt through me, and I yanked my hand back. Staring down at her, a rough breath punched out of me. Jesus Christ, I wanted to touch her again, really, in a very bad way. My fingers practically buzzed to pull that cover back, see if that swell of her breast was just as soft as her cheek, if her thighs were as sweet.

Cutting off those thoughts was harder than I ever imagined. Turning from the bed, I saw a tiny trashcan and grabbed it, positioning it by her bed. Then I went out to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water and brought that back into the bedroom, placing it on the nightstand. She’d be thirsty when she woke up. She’d probably have one hell of a headache, too.

There was no real reason to linger any longer, but I worried about her—about how much she drank, if she’d be sick in the middle of the night when there’d be no one here to look after her. I thought about calling Kyler and getting Sydney on the phone, but I ended up planting my ass in a silver chair that was low to the floor but surprisingly comfortable. There was luggage beside the chair, zipped up.

I ended up sitting there for hours, until the first rays of dawn began to peek through the curtains over the large window, until I was sure that there was little chance she would be sick, and until I was so shocked with myself that I realized I’d spent the entire night like some kind of bedside nurse, something I’d never done before—never even considered doing before. Even though I was tired and my back ached when I stood like I was much older than my twenty-three years, I knew that meant something, that had to. But I wasn’t sure what to make of it.