Page 25 of Collide
Suddenly, an angry brunette stands before me, and I can’t help but stare at her tiny outfit. It’s a white scrap of a dress that has me swallowing. But when her grip on the red solo cup tightens, I’m reminded of my current predicament. “I guess you’re not too violently ill for a sorority party, huh?”
“It’s not what you think,” I say.
Her gaze bounces between my eyes, as if assessing the truth before she lets out a disappointed breath. Summer turns, and Kian lets out a curse before scrambling to go after her. When he pushes past me in a hurry, he trips and empties the sticky liquid from his solo cup all over my bare torso.
THIS WASHROOM SMELLS like candy.
It’s so small I have to cram into the space and nearly knock down the toiletries on the counter. But one good thing about getting a drink spilled on you in a sorority is that the washrooms have everything you need to clean up.
As I’m wiping my abdomen, the doorknob rattles.
“Someone’s in here,” I mutter, but the rattling doesn’t stop. “It’s occupied,” I say louder. Still, whoever it is doesn’t stop. Finally I yank open the door to tell them to fuck off, but a girl trips into the bathroom and right into me.
“OMG!” Her hands slide up my wet abdomen to my pecs. Then she squeezes.
Fucking sororities.
“It’s really you! Totally thought that bitch Bianca was lying, but it’s seriously you!”
“Yeah.” I pry her hands off me. “Come back later. I’m using this bathroom.”
She pulls out of my loose grip and grabs my waist. “Oh, trust me, we can put this bathroom to good use.” She kicks the door closed. “Guess what color my panties are?”
I almost choke on my saliva. That’s one way to get my attention. Though unfortunately for her, I was focused on a different girl tonight. The sliver of hurt that swam through Summer's eyes when she saw me hit me harder than I expected.
“Look, you seem like a nice enough girl but—”
“Wrong answer,” she interrupts. Her hands travel to the hem of her white dress as she lifts it all the way up. “Correct answer is…”
She’s not wearing any.
I pinch the bridge of my nose to alleviate the tension in my head. I don’t know if I’ll regret this later, but I really need to get out of here. “I don’t even know your name,” I say.
“You always ask the name of every girl you hookup with?”
Well, no, but it seemed like the right thing to say. “I don’t know you.”
“I know you.” That’s all she says, but I don’t budge. “Ugh! Fine. My name is Crystal. What kind of guy asks a girl's name when she’s getting naked?”
No guy. Ever.
When she comes close, I smell alcohol, and it’s a relief knowing she’s not this insane when she’s sober. Just as I try to politely remove her from my body and place her outside the bathroom, someone knocks.
“We’re busy!” Crystal calls. With her distracted, I manage to squeeze away.
“Sorry, not tonight.”
I don’t hear the rest of her curse when I close the door and head downstairs. I’m fixing my beer-stained toga when I spot Summer in the hallway.
As I weave through the crowd, I notice she’s talking to someone. He steps closer to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. She smiles at him, but it’s small. So small, I know she’s annoyed by the touch.
As I move closer, I hear him mumble something about a drink before he takes her empty solo cup. “I didn’t get your name,” he says.
“Summer. Like the season.”
The guy smiles that douche-y white teeth smile. “Your eyes are radiant like the sun, Summer.”
I hold back my laugh. Is he going to recite a whole god damn novel about her eyes? This guy is seriously embarrassing. To my surprise, she actually giggles, and a blush paints her cheeks before he ducks into the kitchen.
