“What was her reaction?”
Quirking one brow, he looked up in search for the words. “I don’t know… blank.”
Blank?
That could also mean sad.
“Is she with anyone?” I needed to get as much out of him as I could while he was willing to talk.
He didn’t answer right away. I hated that he didn’t answer right away because it meant I wasn’t going to like the answer.
He put his USC baseball cap on and blew out a deep breath. “I’ve seen her around with a couple different guys.”
Clenching my jaw, I bared down, grinding my teeth together. Deep long intakes of oxygen, followed by quick exhales, pumped from my body. It sounded like a mad bull just before skewering a matador. I grabbed the edge of the chair, grounding myself, so I wouldn’t bolt out of the room and blindly go track down these Smurffuckers.
“Let’s go have fun and not… Fuck!” Travis huffed.
I turned my attention toward him. “What?”
“That look.”
“Yeah… so.”
“My balls and dick just got hoovered up into my body. Damn Stewart, I really needed those tonight.”
Travis’s dorm was within walking distance of the frat house. The booming base of the music, laughter, and squeals could be heard before the place was even in view. As we approached the steps leading up to the porch, a tall lanky dude placed his hand on Travis’s shoulder, pulling him to the side for some type of frat boy business.
“Go on inside and grab us a couple of beers. I’ll come find you when I’m done,” Travis instructed as he and the lanky dude walked around to the back of the house.
I walked up the steps to the front door, squeezing between the overflow of bodies on the porch. Inside looked like the typical frat party. Every inch of the place was covered with bodies—some standing, most drinking, some dancing, a handful already passed out, and some hooking up.
The minute I walked through the door, I heard it and felt her. “Everything” by Lifehouse
poured out from the speakers, drifting over the noise of the crowd. My pulse sped up and my breathing became shallow. I did a quick scan of the room and eyed a guy tugging a dark-haired girl toward the back of the house. I didn’t know for sure that it was Tweet, too many people were blocking my view. I slowly maneuvered my way in their direction and then I heard her voice.
“Matt, I don’t want to!”
I shoved and elbowed drunk bodies out of the way, giving me a clear path to Tweet and the motherfucker who had her hands pinned behind her back. Without slowing down, I grabbed a fistful of the guy’s shirt and yanked him off of Tweet.
“Shit! What are you doing, dude?!” the asshole yelled.
“She doesn’t want to go with you, dickhead.”
My gaze concentrated on Tweet while I tightened my grip on the guy. Her eyes doubled in size when she realized who was standing in front of her. Travis was right. Tweet looked thinner but hotter than ever.
I was so caught up in Tweet that my grip loosened, allowing the asshole to shrug free. “I’m her boyfriend,” he spit out.
Hearing those words come out of his mouth felt like a punch to the gut.
“I don’t give a fuck who you are. She’s not going anywhere with you,” I snarled.
“Fuck you, dude. Come on, Stick.”
Stick? Who the hell was that?
The asshole reached for Tweet’s arm. She stepped out of the way as I grabbed his shirt and spun him around. One blow to his stomach and then his jaw had him stumbling back, falling into the crowd of people behind him. I took hold of Tweet’s hand, weaved us through the room and out the door.
Once we reached the front yard, my body jerked back as Tweet stopped walking and pulled her hand from mine.
God I’ve missed the feel of her skin.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she blinked her beautiful teal eyes in disbelief. “Noah? What are you doing here?”
I turned, moving in closer to her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” Tweet shook her head. “It’s cold, put this on.”
I shrugged off my jacket and held it open for her. As her arms slipped through the sleeves, the familiar scent of raspberry and vanilla swirled around me.
Wrapping the jacket around her, I said, “I’ll go back and get your coat later.”
“How did you know where I was?” She still sounded like she was in a daze.
“I didn’t know. I walked in and…”
Felt you.
“…saw you. Brooke came up here for a bachelorette party with some of her girlfriends.”
The strangest look appeared on Tweet’s face. Tears filled her eyes, spilling down over her cheeks. Before I knew what was happening, she brushed by me and left.
“Tweet!”
I hadn’t said her nickname in months. It felt incredible passing over my lips again even though I was yelling as she hightailed it away from me.
She was moving fairly quickly, but I managed to keep her in sight. Each time I called out her name, she gained more speed until she broke out into a full run. My arms and lungs pumped faster as I matched her steps.
When the hell did she get so fast?
We had run three blocks when Tweet made a sharp right toward the campus. She got halfway across the courtyard when I saw her crash to the ground. I amped up my speed and tore off toward her.
By the time I reached her, she was sitting up, rubbing her left ankle. She was crying harder now. I fell to my knees next to her.
“Are you okay?” I gasped.
“Just leave me alone, Noah.”
“I’m not leaving you alone out here. Why did you run from me?”
Without answering, Tweet struggled to stand and then tried to take a few steps. She barely touched her foot to the ground when her face squished up, wincing in pain. I got to my feet and reached for her arm, but she pulled it away. She tried to take another step, but then fell into a heap on the ground.
Damn, she was hardheaded.
I knelt back down next to her. “Would you let me help you?”
Turning her head in the opposite direction, she choked out, “Noah, just go back to your fiancé.”
“Is that why you ran from me?” She stayed quiet while continuing to rub her ankle. “Tweet, she’s here for a friend. It’s not Brooke’s bachelorette party. I haven’t asked anyone to marry me.”
My cheeks were on the verge of hurting due to the ginormous smile slapped across my face.
You still love me, Tweet.
“Then why are you here?” She wiped away a tear with the back of her hand.
“Travis goes here and has been asking me to come up. Brooke didn’t want to drive all this way alone. I figured it would be safer for her if I came, and…”
“How boyfriendy of you.”
There’s the smartass mouth I love and missed.
“…
and
I was hoping to see you.”
Finally, she gazed up. I took my time examining her gorgeous face.
“God, I’ve missed you. You have no idea how much,” I whispered.
Moving in closer, I cupped the sides of her face and ran my thumbs along her tearstained cheeks. “I hate when you cry, Tweet.” The shy smile that I thought about every day for the past six months tugged at her lips. “Let me take care of you.”
I stood, extending my hand to Tweet. When our palms made contact, an electric jolt passed between us. I could tell she felt it too. Not one thing had changed in six months. She was still
my girl.
Gently, I pulled her to a standing position.
“Can you walk?” I asked.
She timidly placed the foot down, but immediately drew it back. Biting down on her bottom lip, she shook her head. I scooped Tweet up, cradling her in my arms. My breathing accelerated and warmth traveled through every inch of me. The feel of her body in my arms soothed the ache that had taken up permanent residence in my chest for the past six months.
“Won’t Brooke be mad if she finds out you carried me all the way back to my dorm?”
Swinging Tweet from side-to-side, my gaze scanned the area. Laughter bubbled up and burst out of her.
“I don’t see her around. Besides, she wouldn’t want me to leave you out here. She’s not like that, Tweet.”
I was seventy-five percent sure Brooke wasn’t like that.
Tweet’s lips pursed into a straight line. I could tell she was holding back one of her choice smartass remarks.
Following her directions, we headed toward Tweet’s dorm. We didn’t say much as we made the trek across the campus. I was too distracted by the feel of Tweet’s arms around my neck and the friction between our bodies caused by the slight jostling as I walked.
Tightening her hold around my neck, Tweet shifted, causing her chest to press against mine. My body reacted and walking got…
harder.
“Oh, by the way, I live on the fourth floor.” Her lips were only a few inches away from mine.
“Okay,” I answered, swallowing hard.
Christ, everything was getting harder—walking, swallowing, breathing. Stop thinking about getting hard.
“And there’s no elevator.” Her eyebrows pushed up to her forehead as she threw me a smirk.
I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make the entire trip without taking a break. Tweet wasn’t heavy at all. It had been a long time since we were this close and my body craved even the slightest contact with hers. I needed to calm things down.
Cy Young holds the record for most wins at 511.
She rested her head on my shoulder.
Top three record holders for consecutive games played. Cal Ripken, Jr., at 2,632. Lou Gehrig, at 2,130. And Everett Scott, 1,307.
Nuzzling into my chest, a breathy sigh escaped her.
Travis’ naked ass.
I was relieved to find out Tweet actually lived on the second floor, not because I was tired of carrying her. I wanted to hold her for the rest of my life.
But with each step across campus my body’s reaction took control. There weren’t enough baseball stats in the world to keep my mind focused. When picturing Travis’s naked ass didn’t cool things down, I picked up the pace, practically jogging the last block.
I was still holding her as she unlocked the door to her room. Once inside, she reached back to the wall, flipping on the overhead light, and then pointed to the bed across the room. I put her on the bed, helped her take my jacket off, and sat down next to her. Tweet shifted, angling her body toward me. Sliding my hand behind her ankle, I carefully lifted, and then placed it in my lap. My gaze shot to hers when I felt her body tense in pain. When our eyes locked, she immediately relaxed. Heat radiated through my chest at the trust she still had in me.
Slowly, I removed her shoe and sock. The ankle was already starting to swell and a mild bruise had formed on the top of her foot. I gently ran my hand over the area, pressing slightly, to see if she had broken a bone. Nothing felt unusual.
I placed my palm on the sole of her foot and asked, “Can you push on my hand?”
Inhaling a deep breath, she tentatively flexed the foot. Tweet bit down on her lower lip as her eyes shut, crinkling at the edges.
Her foot was cold to the touch. Taking my other hand, I placed it on top, sandwiching her foot between my palms, in an attempt to warm it up a little.
“I think we should go to the hospital, Tweet.”
“It’s just a little sore,” she said, holding her breath.
“Let me take you, just to be on the safe side.”
“I’ll be fine.” Wiggling her toes to prove her point.
God, she was stubborn.
“I’m at least going to get some ice for the swelling.”
Her chin dipped slightly as a sweet smile worked its way over her face.
Luckily, there was a twenty-four-hour convenience store directly across the street. I made a quick trip to pick up some ice. Before heading back I texted Travis to let him know where I disappeared to… kind of.
Me:
I met up with an old friend. Will check in later.
Travis:
Hope you know what you’re doing. By the way, a redheaded lovely found my dick and balls.
Me:
So she’s a Microbiology Major.
Travis:
Fuck you. :)