Page 178 of Burn Bright
“I better be number one.”
The only one.I can’t stop smiling.
40
HARRIET FISHER
“You came with Ben Cobalt, right? Is Charlie Cobalt here too?” a brunette with clear-framed glasses asks while Monster Mash blasts.
It’s thefourthtime tonight I’ve been asked if I brought Charlie to the Honors House’s Halloween party. As if I can speed dial the eldest Cobalt boy and have the power to conjure himanywhere. He wouldn’t even accept a blow job from me.
My cheeks flame thinking about it. “Uh, no. Just Ben.” That Cobalt boy is currently off grabbing me a glass of punch from the bar—which I wouldn’t be able to tell youwhereit is. I got lost as soon as I entered the massive white-brick building.
The Honors House truly is a stunner with its four stately marble columns and wraparound porch, decked out tonight with cobwebs and six-foot skeletons. Decorations aside, I’ve never been somewhere and thought,this is where I want to be. But as I passed each room with oak-paneled walls and a cozy, academic atmosphere, this place has felt especially made for me.
I don’twantto feel that way.
Fifty people are at this party. Eleven of whom are already in the Honors House, and they’re vetting the rest for theirtwelfth and final spot. My goal seems out-of-reach, especially when I was only granted this invitation because Ben worked his extrovert magic. He wouldn’t tell me how exactly he did it, but I’m beginning to suspect it might have something to do with Charlie. Maybe?
Especially when the brunette says, “When Charlie shows up, can you just…nudge him my way? I’m a polyglot too, and I think we’d really hit it off—oh, shit, I haven’t even introduced myself.” She passes her punch to her left hand to hold out her right. “I’m Venus, yes like the planet, and I’m a third year at the Honors House.” I figured she was a member because she’s not wearing a name tag on her shirt.
All guests have them.
Mine is stuck on a red-and-white striped T-shirt. My bangs are blown out in Farrah Faucet waves, and these red shorts areseriouslyriding up my ass. I’m not in love with the ’70s Slasher Summer Camp theme for this Halloween party. But it’s my own damn fault for wearing hotpants when I could have been like Venus and chosen high waisted bell-bottoms and a comfy floral blouse with bell-sleeves.
Luckily, I’m not in danger of being booted from Honors House contention because of the short-shorts. I saw a member wearing a bikini top and a pair of cut-offs, so I don’t think they’rethatstuck-up. This is still college.
Venus’ words ring in my head as I shake her hand.When Charlie shows up. Is he showing up? Did I miss this memo? “Sure,” I say, not even knowing if I’m lying. “I’ll give him a nudge.”
Her white skin goes rosy at the prospect. “Thank you.” She grins excitedly. “And of course, I know all about you through your application. I love how you got into Dr. Venison’s lab. She is a notorious stickler for only accepting seniors. You must be something special.”
I nod, my neck stiff. At a loss for words. I don’t know what to say. Agree with her and sound like a pompous jerk? Or downplay and risk coming across as a humble bragger, especially with my scowly face? Ugh, I wish I knew what to do.
“Punch.” Ben appears beside me carrying a paper cup of pink liquid. What I hope contains three ingredients and not ten that’ll make me barf, but I spy the Skittles and think,this is my kind of drink.Candy is my weakness. And the floating ping-pong eyeball is a nice spooky touch.
I take the punch, grateful for the perfectly timed interject. Being around Ben is like that. He has perfect fucking timing. He turns to Venus. “I just learned this is a plastic-free house, and I’m impressed. I’m going to have to bring your ways to Kappa Phi.”
Venus snorts. “Those guys would rather fuck a landfill than give up their Solo cups.”
I laugh. Okay, I think I could like it here.
Ben’s smiling too. “I believe it.” His hair is extra fluffy tonight, teased with the blow dryer, and his ’70s vintage gym shorts are just as short asmine.The green fabric really leaves nothing to the imagination. I’m not the only one who’s noticed.
Even Venus peers down at his dick.
Ben gives no shits. He knows he’s packing, and the fact that he’s 1.) not self-conscious and 2.) not cocky about being well-endowed is somehow more attractive. I’ve blushed way too much tonight, and I’ve been telling myself to focus on his white ringer tee instead. It says Camp Crystal Lake Counselor, an homage toFriday the 13th.
Still, I have trouble not imagining Ben thrusting inside me. I get hot just picturing his erection between my legs. Our sex quest has yet to be completed. Fall midterms and his hovering brothers have been majorly in the way since the bar fiasco. Bencould sense my exam stress, and he hasn’t wanted to be a reason I fail a course.
So right now, I can’t even reminisce on the reality of Ben fucking me. This is purely a tormenting fantasy.
I’m thwarted out of my carnal thoughts when a girl in pink overalls rushes over and grabs Venus’ arm. “Xander Hale is here.”
Venus lets out a soft gasp. “He actually made it?”
“Wait,” Ben holds out a hand. “XanderHaleis here?”
I feel unsteady on my feet, and I haven’t even taken a sip of my punch. Am I competing for an Honors House spot with Xander fucking Hale? I might as well go home.
