Page 46 of Collision
Hesitantly, I lower my gaze to Thomas’s tattooed hand stretched out toward me. Faced with the mischievous glint in his eyes, I am overwhelmed by a rush of adrenaline. And in a moment of madness, I choose to listen to Tiffany. I choose to dare. To break the rules. I choose to sweep away rationality and surrender to instinct.
To hell with Travis, to hell with everything.
I clasp his hand and, in a snap, he pulls me to my feet, just inches from his face, causing our bodies to collide. With his thumb, he traces the contour of my lower lip, and I can’t seem to draw any air into my lungs. “Excellent choice, stranger,” he murmurs lasciviously, before pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth and sending shivers down my spine. I smile nervously at him, and a moment later, Thomas drags me away.
Fourteen
We ride in a car with two of Thomas’s friends. I don’t know their names, nor do I pay attention to the road. My head is foggy, as if the life I am living is no longer my own. Like I’m trapped in a nightmare and cannot wake up. The only thing that makes me feel like a living person right now is Thomas sitting on the seat beside me and the burning heat emanating from his hand, which rests on top of my bare thigh. I force myself out of my stupor long enough to text Tiffany, telling her that I left and not to worry. When I see that Travis is spamming me with phone calls and texts, I turn off my phone and put it in my purse.
We get out of the car, and Thomas takes me by the hand as if it is the most natural thing in the world. He probably holds so many girls’ hands that he doesn’t even notice it anymore.
The frat house is packed. Through the open windows of the second floor, you can see rooms filled with people drinking, making a ruckus and generally wilding out, swapping spit as they grope and grind on one another.
In the garden, kids are doing keg stands and playing beer pong, and I get a strong whiff of weed when I inhale. The electronic music is booming loud enough to make my chest tremble. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a classic Matthew Ford frat party.
“Don’t get too comfortable with these people. Most of them are so stoned they wouldn’t even recognize their own mothers,” Thomaswarns me.
I nod distractedly. I make to advance toward the front door, but Thomas draws me against his body and encircles my waist with an arm, all without letting go of my hand. In an instant I find myself pressed to his chest, and my heart beats uncontrollably. I am so close that I can smell the intoxicating mixture of vetiver and cigarette smoke that he exudes. I lift my head to observe him and, with his gaze fixed on me, I linger on his parted lips.
“Most importantly: don’t take drinks from anyone. You never know what they put in it,” he whispers a few inches from my mouth.
I blink dazedly and try to recover from the state of bliss into which I had so eagerly sunk. “Reassuring,” I reply uncertainly.
When Thomas releases my hand, I take the opportunity to step back, to put some space between us and clear my head. “You can’t trust anything in there. And you, dressed like that, you’re…” He examines me slowly, biting his lip. “Easy prey.” His eyes linger a bit more than necessary on my cleavage.
“No, go ahead. This isn’t embarrassing at all,” I hiss.
“You’re breathtaking tonight,” he pronounces hoarsely.
I could say the same thing to him. He’s never been so sensual. Lascivious gaze. Full lips. His imposing size. Big, strong, masculine hands that part of me wishes I could feel on my body, on places he has never seen…
I am shocked by my own thoughts. Less than an hour ago, I was crying over the end of a love story that, at one time, I had believed would last forever. And now I find myself thinking about Thomas’s hands on me. I must be going crazy.
Thomas takes me by the hand, pulling me out of my thoughts, and leads me inside. We are immediately greeted by a small group of his friends that I think I’ve seen on campus. He greets them with high fives and shoulder bumps.
“Collins, finally you’re here! We’ve been waiting for you!” exclaims a boy with reddish hair.
“Did you start without me, you assholes?”
“The girls refused. You know they won’t do it without you.”
I stiffen, puzzled, and Thomas notices. He looks at me apprehensively before getting distracted by his friend.
“What are you trying to do, not introducing us to this piece?”
Instinctively, I loosen my grip on his hand and take a step away from him, tense and intimidated. Maybe it was a mistake to come here after all.
“Perez, I know you’re a smart guy, so listen carefully,” Thomas says, resting a heavy hand on the other boy’s shoulder. “This piece is off-limits. And she’s gonna stay off-limits, understood?” The boy, after a moment of bewilderment, nods. “Put the word out, I don’t wanna have to get mad at anyone,” Thomas concludes, dismissing him with a friendly pat. When Perez walks away, Thomas looks at me and reassures me with a barely there smile. I’m about to thank him, but I don’t have time, because some boys—I recognize Finn’s face among them—jump him from behind and drag him away with them. In an instant, I find myself alone on the threshold of this madhouse.
Perfect. Great move, Vanessa.
Hesitant, I look around and study my surroundings. Maybe I’ll be able to find some hidden corner to hole up in here too. This is not my first time at the frat. During the last academic year I spent an evening or two here, but I was always with Travis then, and I felt safe.
Now, however, I am a fish out of water. As I walk along, dodging plastic cups spilled here and there, I run into Matt. He looks oddly sober.
“Nessy, is that you?” He looks me up and down, and I don’t miss the appreciation that shines in his smile.
“Hi, Matt,” I greet him tonelessly. “It’s me, in the flesh.”
