Page 64 of Wanted You More

Lincoln and I share a knowing look, but we nod as if she’ll hold to that.

“Whatever you say, girl,” I reply, keeping a firm grip on her. “You survived your first college party. How do you feel other than incredibly drunk?”

She stumbles in the heels I let her borrow, nearly taking both of us down. “Incredibly drunk,” she reiterates. “Although I think puking helped a little.”

I wind our arms together. “It’s probably a good thing you did. Some people get alcohol poisoning, so you saved yourself the hassle of getting your stomach pumped.”

Kennedy shoots me a mortified expression and whisper-hisses, “That really happens to people?”

It’s Lincoln who answers her. “All the time. Especially for first years who’ve never drank before.”

The girl clinging to me looks mystified by that, silently taking it in as we walk back to our building on campus.

“Do you think you could handle some food or not? Because I’m starving.” I spent so much time making sure she was okay that I didn’t have much time to do anything but drink water and nibble on pretzels that Lincoln found in the kitchen when he raided it for snacks.

Kennedy makes a pathetic noise, which tells me she might not be down for food at all.

“I can grab you some,” Lincoln offers. “One of the deli’s stays open until two in the morning on weekends if you’re down for a sub.”

My mouth practically waters. “Is it as good as the panini you had me try the other day? I’ve been thinking about it all week.”

He finds a way to lay on the charm. “I’m glad I could be in your thoughts somehow. I don’t know if I’d consider the sub as good as the panini, but it’s got to be a close second.”

Kennedy groans. “Are you guys going to flirt all night? Because that will definitely make me vomit again.”

I pat her back, trying not to snicker at the drunken sass. “Sorry, Kenny. No flirting. Promise.” My eyes go to Lincoln in warning. “I said the panini was in my thoughts. Not you. But nice try.”

He shrugs it off. “A guy can dream.”

My roommate scoffs at his reply. “That was really cheesy, Lincoln.”

He doesn’t deny it.

Another sound rises from Kennedy’s throat, but not an alarming one that has me reaching for her hair. It’s a little giggle, followed by a sigh. “Tonight was fun, you guys. Minus the puking. And the stumbling. And feeling like trash right now. But I look hot, and boys kept wanting to dance with me, so that’s a win.”

I grin at the compliment since I’m the one who chose her outfit. She didn’t want me to put any makeup on her, but she went with the yellow sundress that shows off her killer legs. “I told you they wouldn’t be able to keep their eyes off you. You’ve got an insane body. There’s nothing wrong with showing a little of it off. Plus, guys love sundresses. Right, Linc?”

“I can confirm that,” he agrees.

“But why?” Kennedy asks, nose wrinkling with confusion as she tugs on the hem of her dress that ends mid-thigh. “I saw the girls in there. They had on tight jeans and short skirts and guys loooooved them.”

Lincoln grins. “Well, yeah. Guys are simple creatures. It doesn’t take much to get our attention. But there’s something innocent about a sundress that we like.”

Kennedy glances down at herself. “Do I look innocent?”

It takes no time for Lincoln and me to answer “Yes,” simultaneously.

Between her thick purple glasses, naturally tinted cheeks, and cute outfit, she looks like the pillar of innocence tonight. Lincoln is right. It made her a lot more interesting at the party because she wasn’t exposing as much and way more timid than other girls. It made her stand out.

“Innocent isn’t a bad thing,” I tell her when I see the frown tugging at her lips. “I have it on good authority that men like a little mystery. It makes it that much more rewarding for them when they get to figure it out.”

Once again, Lincoln steps in with, “I can confirm that too.”

Kennedy is quiet, and I can tell there’s something on her mind. She doesn’t divulge it until we’re back in our room alone while Lincoln goes to get us all food.

“Remember what you said the other day?” she asks after changing into her pajamas and lying down in her bed. She props her head on her hands. “About not being a…”

It takes me a second before I figure out what she’s trying to tell me since we’ve had plenty of conversations since moving in together. “What? A virgin?”

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