UGH. I’M FUCKING BORED.
Buzzed.
But bored.
Refilling my cup at the keg, I watch as Ashlei and Bo dance in the living room. Ashlei’s long blond hair is sticking to the back of her neck, but she somehow makes sweating look sexy. I swear she was born to dance. It still hasn’t left her, even though she stopped dancing back in high school.
There are guys all around them, but they’ve turned every single one down enough tonight that they’re staying away now. They only have eyes for each other. Ashlei’s hand is on Bo’s waist and they’re giggling, hands lingering, eyes flirting.
It really doesn’t bother me that they’re together. Honestly. What really fucking pisses me off is that Ashlei is one of my best friends and Bo is my Little and yet neither of them have told me about their relationship. I tried talking myself out of it, thinking maybe it was just a drunken kiss, but ever since we got back from Winter Break they’ve been inseparable. I can just tell, the way they act around each other, the things they say, the things they don’t say. In fact, I’m not sure how anyone else hasn’t caught on yet.
I’ve been spending more time with Bo lately, making sure it’s one-on-one attention and not just sister events. She made it clear last semester that she wasn’t going to take a Little until she got the experience of being one herself, so I’m trying to be better. Still, every time we’re hanging out and she skirts around questions about her dating life, I get a little more irked.
I swear I’m going to explode on the both of them if they don’t fess up soon.
Sighing, I take a sip of my beer and whip out my phone, shooting a text to Jarrett.
– This party sucks. I’d rather be with you. –
– Ditto. This professor assistants game night is as about as exciting as tweezing out my eyelashes. Shocking, right? –
– Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have a good time tomorrow night. ;) –
Smiling, I tuck my phone back in my pocket just as Skyler slides up next to me.
“Have you seen my Little? Or my Big?”
I shake my head. “Last time I saw Cassie she was dancing with you, and Erin said she had to pee but that was like thirty minutes ago.”
“Weird. Oh well. Did Erin tell you what the Social Chairs have been thinking for Spring Break?”
“I thought they weren’t telling us until chapter next week?”
Skyler’s blue eyes gleam as she rakes her damp hair off her neck. “They aren’t, but Erin has all the inside knowledge now that she’s on the executive board. And she heard the girls talking to the O Chi boys about Key West!”
I squeal. “Fuck yes! Oh my God, I haven’t been since my parents took me when I was in high school. I was too young to drink then. Oh my God, this is going to be amazing.”
“The possibilities on Duval Street alone make me giddy.”
Frowning, I eye the beer in my cup. “I should probably start drinking vodka waters like now.”
Skyler laughs. “Spring Break diet here we come!”
My phone buzzes and when I check the message, my mouth goes dry.
– I’m not satisfied with just tomorrow. Go find an empty room. –
I smile, but can’t deny the little flip in my stomach. I love when he goes into sexy Jarrett mode. It’s like there’s a switch — sometimes he’s just hot, funny Jarrett in presentable PA clothing. But when the switch is flipped, he’s unbearably sexy, demanding, fire-eyed Jarrett in nothing but a tight pair of boxer briefs.
I personally prefer the switch flipped.
– Are you asking me to sext you, Jarrett Locke? –
– Was there a question mark in that last text? Find a room. Now. –
I bite my lip, a little turned on at the thought. Dirty pics and words in the middle of a crowded party? I can dig it.
“Be right back,” I tell Skyler, pushing myself off the wall we were leaned against and heading straight for the bathroom. There are several in the house, but the best one is in the upstairs loft. By best, I mean cleanest. Using the bathroom in a frat house is like hanging out the door of a speeding car. You’re taking a risk. My Big used to always say, “Shots and squats, my dear. Do not touch that seat.”
Making my way up the stairs, I type out a text to Jarrett asking him what he wants me to do to myself. The three little dots pop up letting me know he’s texting me back and my stomach tightens in anticipation. When I push through the bathroom door and find Erin with her head in the toilet, my excitement fades.
“Shit, Ex, what the hell?”
She heaves, but it doesn’t sound like much comes up. Cursing, I fall to the floor next to her and scoop her dark blonde hair up, fastening it at the top of her head with the spare hair tie on my wrist.
“You’re such a freshman right now.”
Erin groans, leaning back on her heels and lifting her eyes to mine. They’re red, rimmed with tears, and her entire face is a sheet white. “I’m so fucked, Jess. I’m so, so fucked.”
“What are you talking about?” I shake my head, ripping a few sheets of toilet paper off and offering them to her to clean her face. “You’re fine. Just drunk. Let’s get you out of here.”
“Jess, you don’t understand.”
I groan when I see the dirty text from Jarrett, telling me, in amazing detail, what he wants me to do to myself. Then my phone pings again, and it’s a photo of Jarrett palming himself. His abs take up most of the picture, but just the sight of his hand wrapped around his thick cock makes me whimper. It’s clear he also snuck off to a bathroom, and all I want is to be bad with him.
But, sisters first.
Fuck me.
“I understand just fine. Do you not remember me on Spring Break last year?”
Erin huffs, grabbing my wrist with force. “Goddamnit, Jess, listen to me! I’m not drunk!”
“Clearly.”
She levels her eyes. “I’m serious. I haven’t had a single drink tonight… or this semester, period.” She stares at me expectantly, like I’m supposed to understand. When the little lightbulb finally flashes on, I gasp.
“Holy shit. Do you think you’re…”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh my God, Ex, how?!”
She sighs. “I’ve been throwing up and my body just feels weird. I’m freaking out, Jess. What do I do?”
“Have you missed a period yet?”
“I was supposed to have it this week, but nothing.”
I curse, my hand flying to my forehead. No way. No fucking way is Erin Xander, the most angelic of all of us, pregnant. The girl doesn’t party as much as we do, she hasn’t had a boyfriend in I don’t even know how long, and she’s not exactly the hook-up kind of girl.
Actually, that’s a great fucking point.
“Erin, who… um,” I fade off, not sure how to phrase my question. “If there were, for argument’s sake, a little bundle of joy in your belly — who would be responsible?”
She bites her lip just as the door swings open. Clinton startles when he sees us just as Erin yells something about them needing a new lock on the damn door.
“Whoa. You two okay?” Clinton asks. I ignore him, turning my eyes back to Erin.
But her eyes are still fixed on his.
And she’s breathing really fucking hard.
When she looks at me once more, panic evident in her features, I know I don’t need to repeat my question.
Well, shit.
Spring semester is off to an interesting start.