Page 16 of Getting Lucky Number Seven

Sure. Check everything off now so he wouldn’t have to spend every weekend plastered to my side, basically babysitting me. How embarrassing that I thought he was having fun, too. I worked to sound as casual as possible. “Yeah, and I definitely want to accomplish my list this semester, but…” I glanced at all the people, but between the spinning and the music and the lights, dizziness set in, tilting the floor under my feet.

Beck reached for me right as someone knocked into me from behind, and I ended up having to brace my hands on his chest.Holy muscles, Batman. It’s like hitting a wall.A warm, solid, smokin’ hot wall.

He gripped both of my arms, just above the elbow, and tingly zips of heat spread from his touch and skittered across my skin. “We can keep dancing, if that’s what you want. I’m down for whatever.”

I licked my lips, trying to wade through my sluggish thoughts. “No, you’re right. No time like the present. When you’re as behind as I am, missing an opportunity isn’t an option.”

Suddenly I did feel a little nauseated. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or the dancing, or the weirdo attraction vibes. Maybe I just needed to be drunker. Yeah, that must be it. “I’m gonna go grab another drink. You mingle, I’ll mingle. We’ll meet in the middle.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his large hands still fully wrapped around my arms and making me feel things I shouldn’t.

Which meant I needed to be drunkerandput space between us before I did something stupid like try to kiss a beautiful not-stranger, who would then decide we couldn’t be friends anymore. “It’s a party. I appreciate you being the more responsible one, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun. See you in a bit.”

With every step I took away from him, the more like myself I felt.Wait. The point is tonotfeel like myself, though.Thoughts weren’t connecting like they should, but when a cute guy stopped me and asked me if I wanted a drink, I said sure.

We headed over to the table overflowing with alcohol, exchanging names on the way. By the end of the heavy-on-the-vodka red drink, and a conversation that was too out of focus for me to really follow, the world had blurred into nothing more than colors and sounds, reality melting away with it.

…

I shot up and immediately regretted it. Some little bastard was hammering away at my brain, and my mouth was a desert wasteland. It took me a moment to realize I was at Beck’s.

In his bedroom.

In hisbed.

I lifted the covers, letting out a relieved breath when I saw I still had on my clothes. Pressing my fingers to my forehead, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and screeched when the floor moved under my feet. Beck was stretched out on the carpet, a pillow under his head. He squinted up at me as his hand wrapped around my ankle.

“Please tell me I didn’t puke on you,” I said.

“There were a few close calls, but you didn’t puke. I did have to carry you in here, though, and then you got super chatty. When I tried to go sleep on the couch, you asked me to never leave you alone again, so…”

I dropped my head in my hands, all too aware of the weird thoughts I’d had about Beck last night. “Did I say anything embarrassing?”

“No, mostly just random stuff, heavy on the cat and science references, as usual.”

I peeked through my fingers. “Did I end up making out with anyone at the party?”

“That jackass you were talking to started to pull you away from the crowd, but I cut him off. You gave him your number, but I don’t think he’ll be calling you after what I said to him. Sorry about that.” His tone conveyed that he wasn’t actually sorry at all.

Beck sat up, his hair more a mess than a stylized mess now, although he still made it look good. “You went to a party, did a keg stand, and got so drunk you forgot half the night. Congrats on this amazing milestone in your life.” He squeezed my leg. “What are you gonna do next?”

“Uh, Disneyland?” I spotted a pen on his side table, so I wound my hair into a bun and secured it in place. “Actually, I’m thinking breakfast. Is that thing about greasy food being a good hangover cure true?”

“There’s nothing bacon can’t fix.” Beck glanced at the clock. “I’ve got just enough time to hit the diner around the corner before I need to get going on the rest of my day. This huge assignment in econ is trying to kill me, and I want to knock it out before my game tonight.”

We’d only been practicing conversation skills last night, but he’d said I should go to a game, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to. “Would you be embarrassed if I came to watch you play?”

The beat of silence made my stomach clench—I was blurring the lines too much. Already I had him helping me with my list, carrying me home from parties, and I didn’t want to smother him.

But then a smile spread across his face. “Not at all. It’d be cool.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But best lay off the booze for one night. I might be too distracted to keep the guys off you.”

“Pfft.Like that’s gonna be a problem.” I stepped over the piles of clothes littering the floor of his room and headed to the bathroom. My eyeliner had made a run for my cheeks, so I cleaned it up the best I could. Figured it was nice enough for the diner, at least.

All that really mattered was that, in the light of day, I was thinking clearly enough to realize that Beck was an awesome friend and nothing more. I’d never do anything to risk messing that up, either. I needed him in a way I didn’t need most people.

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