Evolve

Chapter One

*Note from the author: Hi all! Please feel free to leave me comments! I'd love to know what you think of the story and the characters. And please keep in mind that this is still in draft form.

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I rolled out of bed, naked and reeking of the night before, and rifled through the pile of clothes on the floor. I pulled on the tank top I’d worn to the party last night, underwear, and a pair of men’s jeans, then headed out of my dorm room to buy a bottle of Gatorade. I leaned against the vending machine and drank and drank, completely parched from last night’s festivities. My head hung heavy and my eyes felt as if they wanted to claw their way out of my sockets.

Hangovers were a bitch.

I’d attended a party at someone’s apartment last night, a senior at NYU who was a friend of a friend, and had made a beeline for the alcohol. The only way I was going to survive a roomful of strangers was to use alcohol as a social lubricant. And boy, had it worked. I’d met a guy and taken him back to my dorm without even a backward glance.

I shuffled back to my room, my bare feet slapping against the linoleum floor, feeling like I was doing a walk of shame. When I got back, the guy in question was already awake, laying on my bed with one hand folded behind his head and the other playing on my laptop.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I asked, stalking over and flipping my laptop shut on his fingers.

“Just checking my email.” He gave me a lazy, scruffy smile that reminded me of the first time I’d spotted him across the room last night. He had made his way through the throng of people in that tiny apartment and had leaned on the counter beside me, with an overabundance of confidence and dark good looks. Guys like him were my kryptonite.

I placed my laptop on my desk and turned back to the guy, scrambling around for his name. “So…”

He grinned, a deep dimple appearing on one cheek. “You don’t remember my name?”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Kyle.”

He snorted and sat up, revealing his tattooed chest and arms. “Try Braden.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

He reached over and pulled me onto the bed, holding me by the back of the head and planting a kiss on my lips. I pulled away, a little grossed out by the stale smoke and alcohol in his breath. “Okay Braden, it’s been nice, but I need to get to class.”

“It’s Sunday,” he pointed out.

“I need to study.”

He held his hands up and started to get up. “I get it, you’re kicking me out.” He stepped out from under the covers and stood in the middle of the room, completely naked.

We eyed each other boldly, both of us playing a mental game of chicken. Determined not to look away first, I slid my gaze down his tattooed chest to the smattering of dark hair on his stomach, and then down to his crotch. I raised an eyebrow in question.

Braden was nonplussed. “For someone who was screaming last night, you sure are quiet this morning,” he said, pulling on a black shirt that was tight across his muscled chest. “Do you regret my tongue in your—.”

“Okay, get out.” I stood up and shoved his leather jacket and boots in his arms.

He laughed, refusing to move. “I can’t do that, love.”

“Why not?”

He looked me up and down, giving the same heated look he’d given me all last night. The same one that had prompted me to ask him back to my room even if I’d known it would end badly. They always do. “Because you’re wearing my pants,” he said.