3:AM Kisses (6 page)

She combs her bangs with her fingers and heads to the bathroom as if I wasn’t even visible.
God
—she probably thinks I’m standing in line.

The door opens again, and this time it’s a very disheveled looking Bryson Edwards, and, for sure, now I wish I was invisible.

Oh God. Take me now.

His head dips back a notch, and he looks around as if to confirm the fact he’s not hallucinating. “You just hanging out?”

“Um…yeah.” I bite over my bottom lip because suddenly I feel ridiculous counting tally marks while he’s busy making them. I don’t know why in the hell it would bother me to see a pretty blonde slink out of his bedroom. I don’t know why in the hell I couldn’t stop thinking about him for the last two weeks—except maybe those washboard abs have something to do with it, or those pale eyes, or that blessed-by-God face...

I run my tongue over my lips while staring down at his chest like I’m about to eat an entire stack of pancakes off it, and a part of me wishes I were. His boxers are pulled so low I can see the perfect V leading to his—

“My roommate was at it again.” I shake my head, trying to snap out of the trance his boy parts have unwittingly pulled me into. “I can’t shut her off—personally I think she’s some high tech sex toy.” My insides tingle just looking at him, and now I wish I had a high tech sex toy to take the edge off. The Bryson 2000 model to be exact. And if that bulge in his boxers is telling the truth, it’s the extra-large version, for sure.

The blonde skank saunters back into the hall before I can finish my thought. God. I wish the carpet would open up and swallow me whole. Or maybe they have one of those Venus flytraps lying around, so I can go and curl up between its meat-eating leaves. I’ve never once
not
wanted to be somewhere this bad, save for my father’s funeral.

“Look, I can go—I
should
go.” I turn to grab my things, but his arm lands heavy and full around my waist preventing me from taking a single step. Everything in me sighs at his warm, strong touch. My lids flutter as a strong surge pulsates deep inside me, and I swear I’ve just had one of those G-spot mythological orgasms that half the women on the planet think are fiction spun by men to make women feel sexually inadequate.

“Stay,” he presses his searing abs against my back, and his voice vibrates down my neck, heated and sultry. “I want you to.” He smells like sex, and his skin is moist with perspiration, and I should be twelve kinds of disgusted right now, but I’m not. A quiver ripples through my stomach, and it takes a moment for me to catch my breath. Bryson Edwards is holding me in a quasi-embrace, and I never want him to let go.

“I’d better make tracks.” The blonde leans in and kisses him on the cheek, awkwardly sandwiching me between them. God, she’s probably
used
to sandwiching other girls between them. Maybe that’s how Bryson and my brother have managed to amass so many tally marks in the first place—
threesomes
. I shudder at the thought. Although, right about now, I wouldn’t take the idea off the table if it entailed Bryson and his strong hands dispelling a thousand myths that surround the female anatomy.

“I’ve got roll call in ten minutes.” She pulls back and frowns into her phone. Her face is tanned to perfection, she’s got bee-stung lips to die for, and her cleavage miraculously balloons the way God intended. Well, maybe not God—more like Victoria’s Secret, but, nevertheless, the premise is the same. There’s no way in hell I can ever compete with that. “So are you new?” She blinks her dark eyes at me, and honest to God, outside of Laney, this is the only other female that’s acknowledged my presence these past two weeks.

“Freshman.” I’m not in the mood to have a faux conversation with the girl who just slept with my imaginary boyfriend besides, his strong arm is still wrapped warm around my waist, and now I’ve got multiple orgasms to contend with. Wait. Is that what he is? My imaginary boyfriend? Shit. This is getting serious.

“Cool!” She hops on her toes as if freshman, in and of themselves, were an anomaly. “Meet me in the quad at noon, better yet, what’s your name?”

“Baya Brighton.” I have a feeling I’ll be regretting this seemingly innocent exchange.

“Perfect.” She jots it into her phone. “Consider yourself rushing for Alpha Chi. Now Aubree won’t give me shit for being late.” She presses another kiss into Bryson’s cheek and inadvertently crushes me against his rock hard body. “I’ve already met my recruiting quota for the day. See you Monday at four, Alpha Chi—don’t be late!” She waves and bites the air at Bryson before slamming her way out of the apartment.

Cole’s doorknob rattles, and Bryson lets go of me and takes a full step back. Cole swings his door open, good and pissed.

“Dude,” he groans into Bryson, looking equally sexually disheveled. “Baya?” His eyes bulge as he takes me in. “What the hell? Did you touch my sister?” He charges at Bryson with his chest pulled back like a gorilla.

“No!” I’m quick to step between them and avert a physical altercation. “
No
, he didn’t.” But all of my girl parts wish to God he did.

I place a hand on either of their chests as if to keep them apart, but really I’m taking a moment to molest the hell out of Bryson’s abs—and, just as I suspected, he’s carved from oven-heated marble. “I was just about to crash on the couch”—I hesitate for a second, dripping my fingers down Bryson’s chest—“like all weekend.” I try to bat my lashes at him in an ill attempt to flirt, but he’s got my stomach knotted up in a bundle of nerves, and I want to cry because it feels like I’m invisible to him as well. “Anyway, I sort of need to catch up on some serious beauty sleep.”

“No, no, no….” Cole groans into the idea.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I counter. “
He
said it was okay.” I smile over at Bryson with the lie still fresh on my lips. At least I’d like to think he’d say it was okay if I had asked—offered up his bedroom maybe…his
body
to keep me warm.

“That’s right.” Bryson gives an apprehensive nod. His glacial blue eyes pulsate over mine as if speaking in code. There’s an undeniable pull taking place. Bryson has power over me whether I like it or not. “I’m just going to jump in the shower real quick. Either of you guys want to hit breakfast in a little while?”

“
Cole
.” A girl’s voice emanates from deep in my brother’s bedroom. Seriously? Does anybody sleep alone around here?

“Nah, I’ve got more important things to do.” Cole glances over his shoulder.

More important things, or
people
to do? I want to ask but don’t. Just thinking about what goes on in that love shack of his makes my stomach turn. Come to think of it, this entire place is probably heavily coated with genetic forensics I want no part of, especially the couch.

Cole socks Bryson in the arm. “Why don’t you guys go ahead.”

“Will do.” Bryson glances over at me with the ghost of a smile before disappearing down the hall.

Cole wags his finger at me to come in close.

“What?” I openly glare into the dark pit behind him. “By the way, Mom is going have an aneurism when I tell her what a testosterone-laden beast you’ve morphed into.”

“Baya.” He closes his eyes a moment. “Please don’t say a word to Mom.” He digs his fingers into his eyes in an effort to wipe away his sleep. “Anyway, I thought I heard something about rush.” Cole shakes his head without verbalizing his disapproval. “Trust me, Alpha Chi is the last place you want to be.”

“Sounds like some backward cheer.” I’m only half-teasing because I can feel my blood boiling just beneath the surface. “This isn’t going to turn into another book club lecture is it? Because in case you haven’t noticed—and you probably haven’t because you’re too busy jonesing for condoms—I’m in college now, and I plan on having a life for once.” Life is code for fun which just might be code for penis, but I’m not brave enough to admit it.

“Hey”—his eyes soften into mine, and for the first time since I’ve arrived it’s like looking in a mirror—“I want you to have a life. I really do. It’s just I don’t want you mixed up with the wrong crowd. I want you to have a
good
life.”

“Cole,” the girl’s voice hums from his bedroom.

“Sounds like you’re living the good life,” I muse. I don’t really care for the double standard he’s imposing. I’d call him out on it, but I’d rather not toss around the word
hypocrite
before seven in the morning.

“Just do us both a favor and don’t rush. Trust me, the last thing you want to be is a ‘sorority’ girl.” He says
sorority
like it’s a new strain of herpes.

“
Excuse
me!” The girl laughs while nailing him in the back of the head with a pillow. I smell a Greek tragedy in the making.

“I’d better let you go.” I glance into his room before looking him right in the eye. “Looks like things are about to get violent. Be careful in there.” I don’t bother wavering from my hard stare. Cole has systematically been pushing all my buttons by pulling the big brother card every time I turn around. I’d hate to break it to him, but the more he tries to push me into the arms of a fictional boyfriend, the more I’m tempted to add my name to the wall of horrors and start chalking up my own damn tally marks. And if he tries lecturing me on the benefits of being a good girl one more time, I swear I’ll put every penis on notice well before afternoon. But he doesn’t.

I head over to the couch and hear the door to his room click shut, the sound of incessant laughter on the other side, then a slam and a whack. Something tells me a little more than a pillow fight just broke out.

“Sorry.” I apologize to Bryson for the tenth time as we head outside of the building. “It’s just, my roommate is making me
insane
. Honest to God, I’m looking forward to her menstrual cycle just so the both of us can finally get some rest.”

He huffs out a laugh, and I’m entranced with the way the slight impression of a comma slices up his cheek.

“Sorry—TMI, I know.” I shake my head. “But I haven’t been able to get one ounce of studying done in that room.” Mostly it’s Bryson’s fault because I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s become my singular obsession like no other boy has, and, now, I’m going to have breakfast with his mouthwatering abs.

“You don’t need to apologize—especially when you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. Jeanie’s the one who should say she’s sorry.”

I glance down at my lavender flip-flops, my questionable level of dress, considering I’m wearing the tiny cotton shorts I slept in and a WB sweatshirt.

Maybe I shouldn’t care that Jeanie Waters is having marathon sex. Maybe I should be running from Cole’s apartment because of the very same reason. Listening to Cole satisfy his jock itch is just as bad.

“Sometimes I wonder if coming here was nothing but a big mistake.”

“Hey.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and my entire body demands to mold to his, so I do. “I’m glad you’re here.” Bryson smells like soap, mountain fresh with a hint of mint. I glance up at him as his eyes pull along my features slowly with a strangled angst that I can’t quite categorize. “Laney was pretty darn glad you were here last week to help out, too. Speaking of which, are you up for catching some hours tonight? I’m working at the Sky Bar. Same drill, less skill.” He twists his lips, and my stomach pinches with heat. God knows I don’t have any skills when it comes to the opposite gender, but I’d love for him to teach me.

“
Yes
.” I practically accost him in the process by wrapping my arms around him tight. “I mean”—I take a step back, trying to play it cool—“that’s totally fine.”

“Great. Now let’s get to the task of nourishing you so you can last until three in the morning.” His arm slinks down to my waist and leaves a line of fire in its wake. “Oh”—he puts his hands in the air like a thief—“sorry.”

A bus hisses down the street, and my hair flies up like a thousand little snakes from the gust of wind, but I can’t break my gaze from Bryson and those gorgeous pebble blue eyes. A smile tugs at his lips, but he won’t give it and my heart wrenches.

“I’m not sorry,” it comes out barely a whisper. I’m sure he didn’t hear, but a part of me wishes he did—that he wasn’t sorry either.

“You want to go for a ride?” He motions to the sea of bicycles tethered to the front of the building. “I mean, I know you mentioned your dad rode, and I totally get it if you don’t want to, I just thought—” Bryson lets his words hang in the air. He runs his tongue over his lips, quick as lightning, as if he didn’t know what else to do with himself. My arms beg to fit themselves around his body. He’s watching me again in that deep knowable way that suggests he’s peeling back my skin to see what’s really underneath, and my face burns with heat.

“I’d love to go for a ride. In fact, that’s exactly what I’m saving my tips for—a shiny new bike.” My throat goes dry, so I clear it. “Well, maybe not so shiny since it’ll most likely come from the nearest thrift shop, but it’ll be new to me.”

“You may not have to save as much as you think.” He breaks out in a slow-spreading grin and leads me over to a pair of bikes, before unleashing them both from their chains.