The Bad Boy's Girl (Now Available as a Paperback and ebook)

Chapter Twenty-Six: Cole Is Stone Cold Sober. Get It? Stone Cold?

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Warining:Mild sexual content!

Chapter Twenty-Six: Cole Is Stone Cold Sober. Get It? Stone Cold?

"Where's the Justin Bieber song?"

I squint at Cole through the dim lighting, trying to figure out his angle. I mean come on, he's a guy. No guy would voluntarily bring up Justin Bieber unless there was a really cruel joke somewhere in the middle of it all.

"What?"

He slings his arm across my shoulder and pulls me to him, saving me from being shoved into by yet another drunken college student.

"We're at a party and you look comfortable. I'm waiting for you to burst into a song that'll make my ears bleed any moment now."

I scoff and push away from him, nudging him with my elbow. "I'm sorry; I didn't know my singing made you so miserable. Or is it just my voice in general? Maybe I should just stop talking to you. Maybe I should just go and find Seth."

He narrows his eyes at me and then at the red solo cup hanging loosely in my hand. He grabs it before I can stop him and passes it to a guy with dreadlocks. Okay, so I might possibly have been drinking. It's just to calm my nerves, honestly.

"I'm cutting you off Tessie. No more beer for you."

I cross my arms defiantly over my chest and lift my chin, "We're at a party Cole, and we're supposed to be drinking cheap, disgusting warm beer and having the time of our lives. Why do you want to ruin the mood?"

His eyebrows shoot up and he sighs before pinching the bridge of his nose. He exhales heavily before hooking an arm through my elbow and dragging me behind him.

"I forgot you're a mean drunk."

I pout and drag my feet on the hardwood floor, just to be annoying but he doesn't give. Instead he leads us through the throngs of dancing bodies, up the stairs. We're in a typical frat house, with about sixteen rooms in total. I've already spied the quintessential pool table, flat screen, gaming consoles and porn magazines-obviously. The guy Brandon, hosting the party is a friend of Cole and the guys and was a couple of years ahead of them. From what little time I'd had to get to know him, he seemed...nice. Okay so he was completely stoned and asked me if I knew his great grandma Myrtle.

Charming.

"And you're a sour puss."

He chuckles, pulling me along, down a corridor before coming to rest in front of the last door. He digs out a key from his back pocket and unlocks the door, ushering us in. Then he locks the door again and pockets the key. Whereas I'm a little tipsy, Cole is stone cold sober. Get it? Stone cold? You know because his last name ...forget it.

I'm in a typical boy's bedroom. Messy with clothes strewn all over the floor and an unkempt queen sized bed. There's a study desk shoved in a corner, piled high with books and a laptop. Soft music plays from the iPod dock and the open window lets in a chilly early spring breeze.

We're shrouded in darkness until Cole switches on the light. He leans against the door and watches me as I take in my surroundings. Okay so I'm only partially interested in that particular task. It's just something I'm doing to ignore the crazy flips my stomach's doing. I'm alone, in a locked room with Cole-my boyfriend. There's no parental supervision, no nosey brother and no restriction whatsoever. Oh My God.

"Sit," He says simply and I obey, taking a seat at the very edge of the bed.

He walks over to the mini fridge and grabs a sealed water bottle and rummages around for food I guess. This must be Brandon's room if he's so casually going through his stuff. He grabs an unopened bag of chips and tosses them to me.