College Ruled

thirty-nine

39
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DANNY WORKS FAST, and the constant flow of tequila shots he pours me, well—those work even faster.

     A half hour later and I'm feeling fan-fucking-tastic.

     So much so that when a complete stranger—a beautiful stranger, mind you—asks me to dance, I say 'Hell yes,' and let him drag me out onto the floor.

      With finals next week and Christmas break fast approaching, Mystic isn't as busy as it usually is. Plenty of students on campus had submitted assignments early and fucked off already.

      And despite sharing a class with a certain someone, I shamelessly hope he is a part of that group. Perhaps Professor Barlowe had given his favorite student a favor and let him take the exam early. A girl can dream, right? Because the thought of having to take my final in the same room as Grayson grates at my nerves. How am I supposed to focus on a test when he'll be right there?

      I am fucked. Royally. Completely.

      "Hey," the man's voice pokes into my thoughts, dragging me back to myself. I'd stopped halfway to the dance floor, breath falling uneven from my lungs. "You okay?"

      Shit. He's looking at me like I am crazy. Or, maybe not crazy but... helpless. Small. In-need-of-saving.

     It makes me want to gouge my own eyes out.

      Come on, Remi. I shake my head, jumbling my thoughts back into place—back in order of importance (because seeing Grayson again and potentially failing my Psych final is so not important right now)—and beam up at the gorgeous stranger.

      "I'm perfect." I latch onto his hand and drag him closer to me. "Let's dance."

He sighs, obviously relieved that I didn't melt into the panic I'd been dangerously treading, and follows obediently. His hands are warm in mine, dark skin calloused and firm as he twirls me into his back.

His hands go to my hips, his face burying into my neck, and I let him. He drags my body back into his, swaying to the swell of music that falls like sweat over skin, thick and warm, and it feels... good.

I chose this. I let myself have this, and there was no ulterior motive. There was no deal, no I'll give you this if you give me that.

This is just a boy and a girl dancing. And it doesn't mean a damn thing.

God, isn't that amazing? Christina would be fucking thrilled if she could see me now.

"Fuck," the stranger hisses. The word falls hot on the side of my throat, and I shiver. "You smell fucking amazing."

I twist around to face him, snaking one arm around his neck and clamping the other over his mouth. "No talking."

My palm vibrates with his laughter. His hands slide down my back and over my ass, fingers hooking into the pockets of my jeans.

"Fine by me." He squeezes me closer to him. "I do have one question though."

I screw my eyes shut and nearly groan. How am I supposed to shut my brain off if he keeps shoving words at it?

"One."

The stranger leans back to get a good look at me. Brown eyes flick over my face before shifting to something over my shoulder. Whatever he sees has his lips curling at the edges, fingers tightening on my pockets.