His blue Henley was fitted, and his jeans were light, ripped, and perfect in all the right places. His blue-gray eyes caught mine, bringing me to his face. He had everything going for him. Why was he wasting his time talking to me?
“No, I didn’t.” He shook his head, and my face pooled with heat. “Josie invited you here.”
“I’m surprised you’re talking to me. Your friends might see you,” I said, rolling my eyes. I turned away from him. I’m stuck. I patted my side, remembering the dress had pockets and that I was the proud owner of a new phone. I could call for a ride. I pulled out my phone, and he walked around to face me.
“You didn’t let me finish. I wanted to invite you somewhere else,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Why?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously. I went from being the most hated person in high school to a sought-out girl in college. Maybe people liked you more when they thought you were like them. This wasn’t a fairytale. This was my reality, and it seemed a little fucked-up.
“You can’t get to know people at a party,” he said, bringing his cup to his mouth. “Unless…this is all you do?”
I ignored his dig. “But…why do you want to get to know me?”
“Why are you so hard on yourself?”
“Who said I was?” I asked defensively.
“No one has to say it. I can tell by your tone, by the way you hold yourself…the way you talk. It’s a damn shame.” He shot me a disapproving look.
“What is?”
“That you don’t see yourself the way everyone else does,” he said.
I looked at him as if he had an extra head. I wanted to scream that I did see myself the way everyone else did, but I don’t. I just let him compliment me, because soon enough he would get it. They all would.
“I’m working on that,” I said, not elaborating. I was working on holding myself to a higher standard, but that took time.
“So, what do you say? Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, leaning across the table. He set his cup down, waiting for me to answer.
“Excuse me?” I cocked my eyebrow, waiting for him to word that better.
“I live here, so technically I’m not asking you to come home with me. I’m asking you to leave,” he said, smiling. I held my hand to my mouth, holding back my laughter.
“Does that line usually work?”
“It does,” he said, throwing a grin at me. He held out his hand, waiting for me to take it. His face broke out into a brilliant smile when I accepted his invitation.
I stood, eyebrow cocked, waiting for him to take me somewhere. Anywhere. He led me up the stairs and to the last room in the hallway. My fist was clenched as I waited for him to talk. I didn’t move across the country to fall into bed with the first guy who was nice to me.
I made that mistake once when I was a freshman. I had a shitty home life, he was nice to me, said he loved me. All the big production. After I gave him what he wanted, it turned out nothing about it was real. It was a bet. A stupid fucking bet that ruined my high school life.
“I thought we were getting out of here,” I stated, putting air quotes around my invisible words.
“We left the kitchen, didn’t we?” he quipped.
“Right…” I took a few steps back. I knew this was a mistake, but at least I recognized the destructive path the people in my life were pulling me down.
“You said you didn’t want to go out when I texted you. I just thought maybe we could hang out up here, away from the noise.”
“Away from everyone?” I asked, as if he’d lost his mind. Is that what he thought about me?
“What are you doing way over there?” he asked, turning on the TV. He was completely oblivious to the fact that I was slowly slipping out.
“I think you’re confused about who I am,” I said, twisting the doorknob. “It’s still early, though. You should be able to replace me.”
With that, I took off. I didn’t stop, not even when he came after me. I grabbed my phone. Dialing the number to the campus uber I ran outside, only stopping when I could hide behind cars.
The door opened and shut. I knew he was out here, looking for me. I was being childish and hiding from my problems. To my advantage there was a driver close to the frat house. When I saw headlights, I dashed to the car. I didn’t consider that I could be getting into the car of a serial killer but, honestly, I wasn’t anyone’s type. I doubted a serial killer would even want to kill me.
“McMahon Hall, please,” I said as I buckled my seatbelt.
“You’ve got it,” he said.
Ten minutes later, I arrived safely at my dorm. No murder. No forcing anyone into things they didn’t want. I was safe, until my phone lit up.
Liam: That was not what it looked like.
I lay my phone on my table and peeled my dress off. As I changed into a t-shirt, my phone lit up again. I groaned with frustration. He was incorrigible. In fact, he reminded me of my first, my only, boyfriend. I hadn’t found the perfect term for that guy yet. ‘The guy who lied to me to get him to sleep with him when I was fifteen’ is a mouth full. So, ‘boyfriend’ it is.
Liam: Just give me a chance to explain.
Me: Why?
Liam:
