Page 15 of Becoming Selfish

He’s never spent the night with a girl? That does seem odd. What does he do—just has sex with them and leaves? Not to mention it’s not even in his own room. The conversation I just overheard lines up with the impression I had of Eli before I met him, but it doesn’t align with the guy I met tonight. Maybe that’s part of his game; he knows how to use his charm to convince you he’s someone who he’s not.

Just as I finish eavesdropping and wiping at my shirt, an arm swings around my shoulders. Twisting my head to the side, I find Patrick’s face so close to mine that I can smell the beer wafting on his breath.

“Hey Cali, I’ve been looking for you,” he drunkenly slurs, licking his lips.

“Well, here I am,” I plainly state as I continue to try and clean my clothes.

Thanks to the hours we spent playing beer pong, I’m not as alarmed by him as I was when we initially met in the kitchen at the beginning of the night. Regardless of that, I remember Marc’s warning about him.

“Whatcha up to?” he asks, his gaze wandering down to my shirt. Or my chest, I can’t tell.

“Just looking for Marc. Have you seen him?”

“Nope, not for a while. I can help you look, though,” he offers with his arm still draped over me.

As much as I don’t want to ask for his help, I might need it. Ali is nowhere to be found, and Marc is my only way of getting back to my dorm tonight. He’s the only person I trust to walk with me. Patrick lives here, so he knows this house and where I might be able to find him.

“Actually, that would be great.”

A smile creeps across his lips. “Have you tried upstairs?”

“Not yet.” I shrug his arm off my shoulders.

In the belief that Patrick knows this house better than me, I follow him upstairs in search for Marc. I’ve already scoured the downstairs numerous times, but I’ve avoided looking up here in the fear I would walk in on someone hooking up, or worse, walk in on Eli hooking up with someone.

When we reach the top of the stairs, Patrick turns to me and says, “You know what, it’s getting late. Why don’t you just crash in my room for the night, and you can find Marc in the morning.” He has a sneaky smile on his lips as he nods in the direction of what I assume is his bedroom.

I stay tight to the railing as he leans in closer. I can now tell just how drunk he is by him slightly falling into me. I guess losing six games of beer pong will do that to you.

“That’s okay. Thank you, though. I’m just going to find my way back to the dorms,” I say while tightening my grip on the rail.

“C’mon Cali, it’ll be fun. Just stay with me,” he repeats, running his fingers down my arm before grabbing ahold of my elbow.

Marc’s warning about him starts to flash through my mind like sirens going off. My heart begins to thump against my chest, and my knuckles are turning white thanks to the tight grip I have on the stair railing.

“Patrick.” I keep my tone stern but even. “I said no, thank you,” hoping I can break through his drunken state of mind and make him understand.

I try to yank my arm away from him, but his grip on me has gotten even tighter.

“I said, stay with me. You’ll have a good time, and I’m not going to take no for an answer.” He looks me dead in the eyes with a blank expression as if he’s not even there.

I think the fuck not.

I look around the hallway, but no one is around, and I’m scared for myself at this moment. Typically, I can handle myself, but Patrick is a big guy and much stronger than me. If he doesn’t leave me alone, I can’t protect myself.

“Get the fuck away from her!” someone yells from down the hall.

I instantly recognize him by the sound of his voice and when I turn his way, the sleeve of tattoos down his arm is the first thing to catch my eye. Eli stands in his doorway, his size taking up most of the threshold. He doesn’t have a shirt on and is only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. If I wasn’t so scared, I would allow myself to admire his body a little longer, but right now, I’m just grateful for his timing.

Chapter 12

Eli

I lie in bed, trying to fall asleep to no avail. It’s getting quieter, meaning the house is beginning to clear out, but my mind continues to wander back to Logan as I lick my lips and taste the vanilla that still lingers there from her drink. God, I wish she wasn’t Marc’s friend.

As I’m lost in my thoughts, voices echo right outside my door—both of which I recognize.

“C’mon Cali, it’ll be fun. Just stay with me,” I hear Patrick say to who I assume is Logan judging from the ridiculous nickname he’s given her.

---