Page 30 of You Were Never Not Mine

“Of course you didn’t.” August keeps that smile on his face, but I see the glimmer of meanness in his gaze. I recognize it and a tiny flicker of fear lights within me. “You don’t notice a lot of things, huh, Timmy?”

Tim laughs and chugs from the can of beer clutched in his hand. “I guess I don’t. Oh, what the fuck!” He jumps to his feet as the rest of the people watching the game start shouting while August doesn’t say a word. Neither do I.

He’s staring at me, his attention not on the game and the bad call that was just made. He could not care less because this man doesn’t care about football at all. He doesn’t like it. I know he doesn’t. I don’t either. There’s another reason he came to this game tonight—this suite.

And maybe this is my ego talking, but I think his reason has everything to do with me.

Chapter Fifteen

AUGUST

It’s finally halftime and I’m afraid I might pluck my eyeballs straight out of my head, I’m so over being in this suite. Watching this game with these drunken fools that are actual members of my frat—still not sure how that happened—and Rafe’s equally drunk girlfriend or hookup or whatever he wants to call her. Sin’s roommate, which is probably the best thing I can label that girl who has zero qualms about letting the lecherous Rafe feel her up every chance he gets. In public. They’re all so drunk, they don’t care about the ruckus they’re causing, and I’ve already gone to the various donors and alumni that are occupying the box with us tonight, promising donations and contributions to their various charities if they can pretend to ignore the little mess our first years are causing this evening.

They all nodded and murmured their thanks, telling me they understood, though they don’t understand shit. I’m not doing this out of the graciousness of my heart or because I want these freshman idiots to have a good time. I’m suffering through this night for this certain woman who has been sitting next to me the entire time. Driving me out of my mind withfucking lust because of her scent and her soft hair and the thick white crewneck college sweatshirt she’s currently wearing. She’s pulled her hair into a ponytail and every time she swings that head—which is often—the ends slap me in the cheek and I think she’s doing it on purpose.

It's fine. I like it. Far too much and I don’t fucking understand why because I don’t like this woman. Can I even call her a woman? More like she’s a girl—barely eighteen, barely out of high school, probably doesn’t have an ounce of experience, and if I made even a minor attempt at seducing her, she’d probably scream bloody murder and run like the devil himself was chasing her.

Maybe I am the devil. I probably am. I’m no better than the skeevy Rafael who is currently sitting on the other side of Tim with his precious Elise. His hand is up her shirt and I can see his fingers move beneath the fabric of her tight T-shirt as they work at her nipple.

Seriously, what the fuck?

“Hey.” I lean forward, my gaze meeting Rafe’s. His eyelids are at half-mast and I wonder if he’s high as well as drunk. “Take that shit somewhere else.”

Rafe removes his hand from beneath Elise’s shirt and salutes me, making her giggle. “Yes, sir.”

He stands, grabs hold of Elise’s hand, and within seconds, they’re gone.

“Where did they just go?” Sin glances up from her phone, of which she’s paid attention to more than Tim tonight. I take that as a good sign. She nudges Tim, who’s focused on the field and not paying attention to her. The stupid prick. “Where did your friend and Elise go?”

“What?” He glances around before returning his gaze to hers, his expression sheepish. “I didn’t even notice they left.”

“I told them to take it somewhere else,” I drawl, sounding bored as fuck because guess what?

I’m bored as fuck. With the game, at least. Not with the woman sitting next to me. She will hardly look at me and I’m sure she’s still pissed. She was not happy to see me and that’s putting it mildly. I annoy her, which is fine. Perfect. She annoys me too. More than anything, my thoughts and—oh God I sound like a sap—myfeelingsabout her annoy me.

“Ahh.” That’s all Tim says. He returns his attention to the game, completely unbothered. Guess my explanation was enough for him.

Sinclair’s exasperated sigh goes right over Tim’s head and she turns to glare at me. I smirk at her, unable to help myself, and her entire face reddens. “Take what somewhere else?” she asks, her voice vaguely shrill.

I have no patience for a shrill sounding woman, but I’ll try my best. “They were sitting over there practically having sex. Or did you not notice?”

“Having sex?” Her voice rises and I send her a look. She lowers her tone, thank God. “What do you mean?”

“His hand was up her shirt and I’m pretty sure I saw a wet spot on the front of his pants.” Jesus, do I need to give her a play-by-play? How did she not notice the two of them grinding on each other? “I told them to get out if they were going to keep that sort of thing up.”

“Wow. You didn’t have to be so rude to my friends by kicking them out,” she mutters, her disgust obvious.

“You’re saying you didn’t have a problem with them going at it in here? They’re representatives of our fraternity, you know. Have you seen everyone in here tonight?” I wave a hand in the general direction of the rest of the crowd. “There are some serious VIPs in this suite.”

“Like Tim and Rafael?” She raises her brows, no doubt challenging me, and I have to admit to myself…

That thing she does with her brows and the way she tries to defy me? Maybe even tease me? Hot.

Hotter than hot.

“Right. Like your little buddies,” I drawl.

“They’re not my little buddies.” She leans in closer, giving me an excuse to subtly sniff her hair. God, she’s delicious. “Rafe and Elise had sex earlier today for the first time. And it was her first time ever.”

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