I watch her eyes roll back and her lids closed just as her knees buckle. I reach her just before she hits the floor, feeling like the biggest piece of shit ever. Kat pissed me off making comments to her roommate about how I have an STD, and that I actually gave one to someone else. College isn’t much different from High School. Tell that kind of shit to the wrong person and suddenly half the campus thinks I’m infecting every girl I come across. It won’t matter if I had sex with them or not. They’ll be exposed to herpes just by sitting by me in class, or being behind me in line in the dining hall.

My anger led me to egg her on, to remind her of what she said at the restaurant. It’s not like I didn’t know she was full of shit at the time, though I was kinda stuck on the whole “I’m not a virgin” part of the conversation. Oddly, I wanted to demand to know who and when, so I could go kick someone’s ass. Protecting a girl’s virtue is not my deal, but damn if I didn’t want to do just that. From the look on her face it clearly wasn’t the best experience.

I remember my first time. It doesn’t matter how much porn you watch or how many times you jack your junk. The feel of a tight, wet pussy around you for the first time, well, it short-circuits your brain, and you’re lucky to know your own name. I’m not ashamed of the fact that I lasted about point two seconds the first time Emily let me stick it in, but I’m damn sure proud of the fact I’d watched enough porn to know how to get her off beforehand. Plus, it’s not like I was a complete newb the first time. I’d fingered a girl before I finally had sex; it just didn’t prepare me fully for what it would feel like when I stuck that part of my body inside.

This line of thought is not the right one when I’m holding a drunk, passed out girl in my arms. I look around for Becca but don’t see her. She must still be outside. I pick Kat up so I’m cradling her neck with one arm, and her knees are draped over the other while I scan the room, knowing there’s no way I can carry Kat around the house looking for her. When I spot Liam I jerk my head toward the front door. He nods once and starts making his way over to meet me.

Liam holds the door open so I can carry Kat through, careful not to bump her head on the side or edge of the railing as I walk carefully down the steps. The fleeting thought that it’s a good thing I work out every day crosses my mind, and I silently curse myself for it. Kat is by no means a heavy girl. She’s tall but lithe with long limbs and slender curves. Liam darts forward to open the passenger door, so I can gently place her in the seat. I fold her legs inside, so she looks more comfortable and pull the belt around her, fastening it quickly before quietly shutting the door.

“What the hell, man?” Liam questions.

I shoot him a glare. “What? She got drunk and passed out. What was I supposed to do? Leave her here?” Why is he giving me shit?

“I get it, I do, but …” He looks around. “Isn’t there anyone else who could take her home? You’re leaving before the party even gets good. Not to mention, you’re going to be missing out on some prime pieces of ass if you leave now. Unless …” he trails off and I raise an eyebrow at what he’s implying.

“Unless what?”

“Unless … you’re hoping to score with the drunk chick.”

I roll my eyes, but it’s too dark for him to see me. “Lee, for real? That’s ridiculous for so many reasons. First of all, she’s drunk. Passed out, non-responsively drunk.” I prefer participation from the girls I sleep with. “And second, she’s been friends with, and hung up on, my brother for years. There’s no way I’d touch that. Not even if she was sober.” That last part may not be completely, 100% true, but I’d at least think hard about it. I’m not into being second place or a substitution. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing? To be a stand in for my younger brother. I shudder just thinking about it. Great. Now I have the image in my head of her calling his name during sex with me. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Okay, okay. I get it. You gotta take care of her for your bro.” I don’t bother to correct Liam. It’s not just because of Max. I wouldn’t leave any girl at the mercy of college guys who are desperate to get laid. Not every guy has my standards … or my pussy average.

Hmm. What would you call that? In Baseball it’s called an RBI—or Run Batted In … so would this be PBI? Or maybe FPA—Fucked Pussy Average. Yeah, I like that. Shaking my head, I walk around the car continuing to think of other acronyms. PIB—Pussy I’ve Banged is another good possibility.

I’ve almost forgotten Liam’s even there when he tells me goodbye. Distracted, I lift my hand in a wave as I fold myself into my car, glad I only had the one beer, so I’m okay to drive. Kat’s had enough alcohol for both of us. Pulling up to a stoplight, I look over at her in concern. I wonder what happened tonight, not including the run-in with me, that made her drink so much. It’s not like her. Kat’s normally the type of girl who doesn’t drink at a party because she’s kind of a goody-two-shoes and she’d be terrified the cops would show up and arrest her as soon as she took a sip.

She’s still passed out when we arrive at my apartment. I didn’t take her to her dorm because I still don’t know where Becca is and I can’t locate a cell phone on Kat to get her number. I make a mental note to yell at her about that tomorrow when she’s awake and consider calling Emmett to come out and help me get her inside. Just as I pull my phone out she begins to stir.

“Clay?” Her voice is scratchy and groggy. “Where are we?”

I get out of the car and go around to her side before answering. “My apartment. You’re drunk and you passed out. If I take you to your dorm, you might get in trouble. You can sleep it off here, and I’ll run you home in the morning. Or, I can have Max do it,” I say as an afterthought, though oddly enough, the idea pisses me off. If anyone’s taking her home, it will be me.

“Oh,” she sighs sleepily, barely conscious as I help her out of the car. Her feet barely move as we make our way slowly over to the stairs.

Giving up, I lift her back into my arms, and she drops her head onto my shoulder, her arms wrapping loosely around my neck. I set her down briefly to unlock the door before picking her up once again and carrying her into my apartment. I don’t know if she’ll get sick, and I don’t want anyone asking questions about why she’s here, so I take her into my room and lay her down on my bed.