Page 40 of Broken Romeo

Kate snorted a laugh just as a girl dancing nearby bumped into her, launching her forward into my arms.

I caught her before she went down. Tucking my arm around her waist, I pulled her tight against my body and guided her over to the quietest corner of the room.

Oh boy. Either the alcohol or the Benadryl was definitely kicking in. Maybe both. I steadied her, my hands landing at her hips. She was so small that I probably could have wrapped my entire arm fully around her waist. “Okay, party girl. You know what you’ve won? A chaperone for the entire night.”

“A chaperone?” Her face twisted and she blinked slowly. Too slowly. “Who?”

“You’re looking at him.”

With a roll of her eyes, she hiked a small backpack-purse sort of thing onto her shoulder and shoved past me, moving around the table. “Like heck.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. That’s how it is.”

“If you’re my chaperone for this party, then I’m just going home.”

She tugged a set of keys from the outer pocket of her purse, and I quickly snatched them out of her hand. “Dammit, Kate! You’re not driving anywhere!”

It took a second for her to register that I had her keys.

Yep. Her reflexes were already slower, delayed. No way in hell I was letting her get behind the wheel.

Her eyes softened and she blinked, looking up at me. “You just called me Kate, not Katherine.”

Her voice was so quiet, I almost didn’t hear it over the thumping bass of the music and the thrusting bodies dancing all around us.

“Yeah, I did. Because Kate is a dumb freshman who opens doors she knows she shouldn’t and mixes alcohol with diphenhydramine.”

She spun to face me and the arm draped over my shoulder tightened, pressing that tight body of hers harder to mine.

“If Kate’s the dumb freshman, then who’s Katherine?” she asked.

Katherine was the best version of Kate. The woman I saw beneath the surface of her inexperience and who I desperately wanted to know better. The woman I wanted to be with.

But there was no way. Not with Kate or Katherine. This girl was innocence and sweetness personified, and I was an asshole who was about to leave college in nine months and enter the world of politics with my father after law school. The fucking family legacy.

Like hell I’d drag someone as wholesome and good as Kate into my family’s seedy world.

Even just a night with me ran the risk of papers and tabloids following her and photographing her. Especially if it was an election year. Kids of politicians gone wild is a favorite story of theirs and I’d been in the headlines more than once.

Which was another reason why I couldn’t let her leave here or even just hang out at this party alone. Not only was it dangerous, but if she was in a wreck or something happened to her, I could see the headlines now. Senator’s Son Drugs Underage Freshman at Keg Party.

Kate poked my chest, goading me. “Answer me. Who’s Katherine?”

I opened my mouth, but the words tangled and lodged in my throat. A faint smell of cherry and roses surrounded me from her punch-stained lips and her blue eyes sparkled.

I couldn’t stay mad at Kate. She wasn’t my mom. She wasn’t doing this as some revenge against my dad. And in some ways, Kate was right. She wasn’t any different than any other college student looking to party on the weekend.

Except that she wasn’t as experienced. I wanted to keep her safe.

But who would keep her safe from me?

I cleared my throat. “Katherine is…”

I couldn't think. Not with the way her hand cradled the back of my neck. Or with the press of her breasts against my side as I held her close to me. Too close. Fuck, I wanted her.

Her mouth parted, angling toward mine.

It’d be so easy to give in. To taste her. Feel her. But I couldn’t. Probably not ever, but definitely not now while she was drunk and on Benadryl.

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