“Like I said, I was just about to head out, so it’s not a problem.” Hell, despite the smell (which was atrocious), I was grateful for the perfect excuse to get out of the party early. When Scarlett asked why I bailed, I could tell her—honestly—that I needed to change before I became tragically ill in a room filled with people I didn’t dare offend with projectile vomit. Cowardly? Yep. Did I care? Nope. Blessed escape was in my sight, and I intended to take it, but before I could excuse myself from the still-apologizing girl, a wonderfully warm and strong hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I looked up to find the object of my unrequited longing standing beside me. Touching me. Smiling easily, naturally, that amazing smile that was radiant and charming; the smile that revealed dimples that were oh-so-sexy. I blinked, certain I was suffering from some unexpected hallucination. I had to be. There wasn’t any possible way Avery Beckett was touching me… smiling at me …. I shook my head to try and clear aside the obvious hallucination. Avery didn’t disappear from my sight, but he did turn to flash a smile at the young woman whose drink was currently soaking into my shirt and chilling my goose-fleshed skin.
“It’s cool, Tabby.” Avery’s voice was as rich and warm as I remembered from our class, but hearing it up close, with Avery’s hand resting casually on my shoulder… shivers of delight (and lava-like arousal) traveled down my spine and my digestive organs did a series of rather impressive somersaults. “Go grab yourself another drink. I’ll take Decker upstairs and find one of my shirts for him to change into.” I was dimly aware of the girl—Tabby—looking relieved and departing with a happy smile aimed at Avery, but mostly I was in a state of shock. 1) Avery was touching me, 2) apparently Avery actually knew my name, and 3) Avery intended to take me upstairs and loan me a shirt, and that was just so out of left field I half expected to hear the theme music from The Twilight Zone . Had I tumbled down a rabbit hole? Could I be drunk—and delusional—from simply smelling alcohol? That seemed unlikely (since I knew it was impossible), but there wasn’t any obvious explanation for why Avery’s hand moved from my shoulder to catch me by the wrist. With casual confidence, he began tugging gently through the crowd of giddy partygoers toward the stairs which undoubtedly led to the dorm rooms. What the hell was happening? Dazed and more than mildly confused, I forced myself to stop moving when we reached the bottom of the stairs. Avery turned around to look back at me, and I drew in a much needed, almost desperate, breath.
“Come on. I’m sure I can find something for you to wear. No need to spend the rest of the night in a wet shirt.”
“I don’t… I mean, I… I was leaving….” I winced, because damn, did I sound stupid. “You don’t need to be nice to me because….” His beautiful lips curved into another radiant smile, and I felt something inside me shiver again because that smile was perfect. I figured he could convince me to walk to the moon and back by just flashing that smile and yes, that made me pathetic on at least a dozen levels, but I realized I didn’t care. So I was pathetic? So what? I could live with it, if Avery would just keep smiling at me like that, like maybe he really did see me, Mr. Wallflower, as more than some borderline hermit/nerd/utterly-unjocklike loser. Christ! My heart kicked so hard in my chest that I briefly wondered if I was suffering from a heart attack, but once again I simply did not care, as once again Avery tugged gently at my wrist and I began following him up the stairs as if I had done so before and would do so again.
A moment later, I was ushered into a room— Avery’s room —and I noticed that it was a single, larger than mine and surprisingly uncluttered and well-organized. Avery had a few sports posters on the walls, a large bed, a
“It’s cool, Tabby.” Avery’s voice was as rich and warm as I remembered from our class, but hearing it up close, with Avery’s hand resting casually on my shoulder… shivers of delight (and lava-like arousal) traveled down my spine and my digestive organs did a series of rather impressive somersaults. “Go grab yourself another drink. I’ll take Decker upstairs and find one of my shirts for him to change into.” I was dimly aware of the girl—Tabby—looking relieved and departing with a happy smile aimed at Avery, but mostly I was in a state of shock. 1) Avery was touching me, 2) apparently Avery actually knew my name, and 3) Avery intended to take me upstairs and loan me a shirt, and that was just so out of left field I half expected to hear the theme music from The Twilight Zone . Had I tumbled down a rabbit hole? Could I be drunk—and delusional—from simply smelling alcohol? That seemed unlikely (since I knew it was impossible), but there wasn’t any obvious explanation for why Avery’s hand moved from my shoulder to catch me by the wrist. With casual confidence, he began tugging gently through the crowd of giddy partygoers toward the stairs which undoubtedly led to the dorm rooms. What the hell was happening? Dazed and more than mildly confused, I forced myself to stop moving when we reached the bottom of the stairs. Avery turned around to look back at me, and I drew in a much needed, almost desperate, breath.
“Come on. I’m sure I can find something for you to wear. No need to spend the rest of the night in a wet shirt.”
“I don’t… I mean, I… I was leaving….” I winced, because damn, did I sound stupid. “You don’t need to be nice to me because….” His beautiful lips curved into another radiant smile, and I felt something inside me shiver again because that smile was perfect. I figured he could convince me to walk to the moon and back by just flashing that smile and yes, that made me pathetic on at least a dozen levels, but I realized I didn’t care. So I was pathetic? So what? I could live with it, if Avery would just keep smiling at me like that, like maybe he really did see me, Mr. Wallflower, as more than some borderline hermit/nerd/utterly-unjocklike loser. Christ! My heart kicked so hard in my chest that I briefly wondered if I was suffering from a heart attack, but once again I simply did not care, as once again Avery tugged gently at my wrist and I began following him up the stairs as if I had done so before and would do so again.
A moment later, I was ushered into a room— Avery’s room —and I noticed that it was a single, larger than mine and surprisingly uncluttered and well-organized. Avery had a few sports posters on the walls, a large bed, a
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