Girl With Guitar by Caisey Quinn Page A

she’d tried to text, but the new phone Pauly had given her was touch screen and her hands were still damp…and she was maybe more drunk than buzzed.
    The message she actually sent looked more like Im a Phkao ?? not sure how bus don’t kno anyone enough ride back come gee mee?
    “Kylie?”
    “Be out in sec.”
    The thought of stepping out into that dark bedroom with an extremely sexy and very intimidating stranger twice her size, that she barely knew, was making Kylie nauseous. Or maybe it was the shots. Or the beer. She splashed some water on her face and tried to recall the saying Lulu was always reciting at parties about beer and liquor. Which order meant you were in the clear and which one made you sicker?
    She stared into the mirror waiting for her reflection to be still.
    “Hey, there’s someone in there. What the hell are you—”
    Kylie heard a man swearing outside the bathroom door as she tried to focus on the screen of her phone. God, why wouldn’t Pauly just text her ba—
    The bathroom door burst open and she jumped to avoid getting hit. Trace stood there, eyes blazing and chest pumping. Steven was behind him, holding his shoulder and looking pissed.
    “Let’s go,” Trace growled at her.
    What the hell was he doing here? She decided to ask him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
    He stared at her as if he was gaging her blood alcohol content with his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”
    “Um, okay. I texted Pauly and—”
    “Kylie, we’re leaving now. Either you can walk or I can carry you out.”
    Before she could really process what he was saying, Steven stepped inside the now way overcrowded bathroom. “She’s fine, man. I can get her back to the bus before—”
    He didn’t get to finish his sentence before Trace’s knuckles connected with his mouth.
    And then Kylie was airborne and upside down over Trace’s shoulder. As they bounced down the stairs, she felt the vomit rising in her throat. Oh God. She was about to puke on last year’s Country Music Artist of the Year. In front of an entire fraternity. Definitely not her finest moment.
    “Put me down,” she ordered as soon as they were outside.
    He didn’t. Instead he asked her a question through clenched teeth. “What the hell were you thinking?”
    She groaned and closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to watch the sidewalk blurring by. Though it meant giving up an excellent view of Trace Corbin’s ass. “Right now I’m thinking I’m going to be sick.”
    Thankfully, he set her down gently on the sidewalk. Kylie leaned towards the bushes lining the concrete and violently relieved her stomach of the chicken salad sandwich she’d eaten before performing. And all of the purple stuff she’d drank, judging from the looks of it.
    “Oh my God,” she moaned when she was finished. This was why she was always Lulu’s DD.
    She stood up and felt her hair fall around her. Trace must’ve been holding it. The sweet acidic smell of vomit wafting from the bushes was too much. She took a few wobbly steps backward, strong arms steadying her from behind. “Well, at least I didn’t puke on you,” she said, looking up into his face. The hat he wore cast a shadow making it impossible to see his eyes. For some reason this bothered her. He had the prettiest eyes.
    “Yeah, thanks. This is my favorite shirt.”
    Kylie glanced at the faded plaid button up he wore. “Why?”
    “Wow, even drunk you’re snide and hateful. I’m impressed.”
    She flushed and fumbled for an apology. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
    “It’s okay. That’s one of the things I like about you actually,” he told her with a shrug.
    Her skin prickled but she wasn’t sure why. It was pretty warm out and there wasn’t even a breeze or a chill in the air. The extreme awkwardness of the situation settled between them as they walked away from the fraternity house. “So…did you score with Red?”
    Trace turned to face her but kept walking.