Trixie Toberman has successfully managed to crawl under my skin for the last week and a half, and tonight I’m bracing myself for more of the same. I’ve hung around the Annex on nights she’s on the air. The girl plays Elvis songs for an hour straight. I guess she figures there’s no better way to lull the WB student body to sleep than with a few good oldies. And once she’s done, I make sure she gets to Cutler Tower. The campus is safe for the most part, but I wouldn’t want Sunday walking around by herself that time of night, and I did tell Knox I’d keep an eye on his kid sister as if she were my own.

The Mustangs had a bye last week, but this Saturday night it’s a home game against the Lambert Tridents, our self-professed rivals. The entire school has shown up in number and so has Lambert. I don’t think the stadium could house another body even if it was standing upright.

My phone buzzes, and I look down to find a text from my cousin Lex. The Sloppy Pelican tomorrow night at six. Don’t forget!

I text right back. Wouldn’t miss it.

Tomorrow happens to be my brother Nolan’s birthday. Lex has been coordinating our birthday get-togethers for as long as I can remember. As long as my mother’s been dead to be exact. I know for a fact my dad can’t make it. He’s in Europe doing a tour of duty at all the local whorehouses, I’m sure—even if the trip is thinly veiled with the prospect of snapping up real estate. My father is into collecting homes, land, buildings, the way others collect art.

The Media Club is all over Mustang Stadium tonight, but I gave Trixie the run of the field, along with myself, of course. I’ve worked the field during every game for the last two years, and I’m not about to give up the best proverbial seat in the house starting now. I paired Seth with Miranda to work the student section. I figure a couple of hours huddled with the screaming student body should set them both straight. Miranda has been showing off her moves and assets all week wearing those low-cut sweaters, those short skirts that make very little sense with the frosty temperatures we’re having. For whatever reason, she’s turned up the volume this past week, practically begging me to do a nightly visit to her sorority. And when that didn’t work, she showed up at my new rental with a bottle of champagne to christen the place. It took me an hour and a fake illness to finally get rid of her.

I squint out into the crowd and spot the two of them. Miranda screaming right alongside her buddies, and Seth settled between Sunday and Serena. I can’t help but growl over at him. Who the hell does he think he is hogging every second of Trixie’s time the second she steps into a meeting? I get it. We’re all free to work on our projects, help each other out, but there’s something about the way he lingers on her every move that really pisses me off. It’s a damn social outlet, not a dating site I’m hosting. Sunday let me know he’s been making any excuse he can to hit up their dorm—even goes as far as stalking them over at the Black Bear. They go out for coffee? Seth miraculously appears. He’s desperate. And women don’t like desperate.

I can’t see Trixie with someone like him anyway. My teeth grind just thinking about it.

Trixie and I work the periphery making sure to get Rex and Knox in each shot we take. Trixie can’t stop howling for her brothers and losing her mind in the process. And as much as I want to keep my eyes on the game, my gaze keeps drifting to those jeans she’s wearing, the way they hug every curve without giving a millimeter of space in between, and that sweater to end all sweaters. It’s not cut down to her belly button like Miranda’s entire closet seems to be composed of, but it sure as hell lets you know what’s going on underneath it. Trixie’s body is comprised entirely of switchbacks. Each and every curve as sharp and honey sweet as the next.

She jumps to her left as she struggles to get that perfect shot with her phone and accidently lands on top of me.

She jumps back, my hand still burning with the heat from the touch of her thigh. Her eyes snag on mine, and something electric sparks between us. Maybe it’s the game, or the inhuman level of cheering taking place, or the fact I just abstained from sex for eleven days in a row, but my boxers twitched with hope at the exchange.

Trixie screams right through a laugh, breaking the spell as she reaches up and gives my ear a yank. “Watch where you’re going, frat boy.” She takes a moment to glance up at the student section. “I’m sure there’s a girl who will happily let you destroy her body later this evening.” Her eyes dart to mine. “This body just so happens to be off-limits.” Her lips saw the words out slowly, and it’s as if the world, the noise around us grinds down to a demon’s chant, and all I heard was her voice in a tunnel.

“You wish.” I give a little wink and catch her mouth falling open as I start shouting at Rex to move the ball again. But I’m still watching Trix from the sidelines. Every move she makes has me forgetting where I am, whose little sister she might be.

Trixie is wrong. There is not a single warm body I’m looking to destroy later on this evening. My balls ache just watching her jump up and down as if she were on a trampoline. But for whatever reason, Trixie has managed to destroy me, or at least she’s getting damn close.

Toward the end of the fourth quarter, we’re both exhausted from running back and forth like a couple of kooks. Without thinking, I rest an arm around her shoulder, and freeze, forcing myself to look at those dudes running the ball down the field.

“Good game,” I say matter-of-factly, trying my best to offer a friendly display of affection, something a big brother might do. But hell, I’m not even sure I comprehend what just happened out on that field tonight. Try as I might to be that third big bro in the equation, my arm begins to burn from her touch as if her shoulders were steel on fire. Touching Trixie, being near Trixie, is turning me into an animal. Every last part of me demands to flip her onto the nearest bleachers and have my way with her.

Trixie hikes up on her tiptoes, landing those cherry red lips just inches from mine, as she reaches up for my baseball hat and steals it. “It was a good game.” She sinks the hat over her head snug and looks cute as hell. Just the sight of her like that sends my dick pumping to life. Crap. “I think I’ll keep this as a reminder of a great time we had.” She bats her lashes up at me caustically, and I can feel the dig coming a mile away. “I’m sure Randy Mandy will give you something to remember it by. A touch of syphilis perhaps?” She saunters off as the final whistle blows.

The game went off without a hitch. We dominated the stadium, thirty-one to ten. It’s pretty clear that every WB player on that field is getting laid tonight.

I watch as Trixie takes off toward the stands, double-teaming Sunday and Seth with a violent celebratory hug.

Scratch that. There’s one person on the field who won’t be getting laid tonight.

And that’s me.

Trixie leaves the stadium with her friends, laughing and dancing with my hat still planted over her head like a trophy. I don’t head to the Black Bear or to the frat party after. Instead, I make a beeline for my new place and soak in the silence. It feels as if I’m an entire world away from Whitney Briggs out here.

And I think I actually like it.

---

The next evening, The Sloppy Pelican shines like a diamond in the rough out in the middle of Hollow Brook, nestled among the residential properties and strip malls that soccer moms like to frequent. I offered to drive out with Sunday, but she said she was catching a ride with Serena and Seth but that she had a surprise for me. So I headed here on my own, and ironically on my own is something I’ve been a lot ever since I stopped my condom addiction and the girls who were there perpetuating it. Bloody hell, I haven’t had a girl on me in what feels like years. I don’t know how other dudes do it. I’ll have to ask Eli, the only other guy I know who isn’t boning girls on the regular. Everyone else seems to have a plus one these days. Knox has Harper, Lawson has Lucky, Grant has Ava. It’s just Eli and me left out in the cold. Seth, too, but I’m still pissed at him for no good reason.

The murmur of voices grows behind me just before I enter the establishment, and I turn to find Sunday and Serena. Just behind them I spot Seth talking to some chick, and my heart stops—Trixie. A flush of heat washes through me. Shit.

A laugh gets tangled in my chest. Could Sunday’s surprise for me be Trixie? My blood starts pumping as they come in close. I offer a passive hello to Sunday and Serena, outright ignoring Seth. My eyes can’t help but gravitate toward Trixie in that short black dress, those knee-high black suede boots, those big diamond studded hoop earrings harness what’s left of the sun and makes her entire face shine. First star I see tonight. Holy crap. Trixie has cast a spell on me, all right, and I don’t think there’s a single thing in the universe that could snatch me from it. Her eyes latch to mine as her crimson lips curve with a dangerous smile. Just as I’m about to let some smart-ass comment fly, someone comes up from behind and lands a pair of cool hands over my eyes.

“You didn’t think I’d let you sit out another Saturday night without me, did you?” The voice is decidedly female, perky, and way too seductive to be another member of my family. Shit.

I gently peel her hands away and spin to find Miranda Smirnoff in a bright red dress, her white blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun making her eyes look the size of quarters, her nose a long dart down the front of her face, pointing straight to a pair of bright pink overdrawn lips with sticky gloss coating them for good measure. There’s not enough beer in the world to ever make me want to latch onto those again.

“Miranda?” I didn’t mean for it to come out like a question, but every last part of me is hoping that I’m wrong about what’s happening here.

Trixie jumps up, her chest grazes mine, and my insides wrench as if a steak were just dangled before me. Steak? I shake my head at the sexist analogy, and I hate myself for it.

“Surprise!” Trixie drags the word out before tugging down on that bottom lip of hers with her teeth. Her ice-blue eyes are accented with those long, thick lashes. She gives my collar a slight tug as if she were readying to do a striptease. “Brought your little plaything along for a ride. Guess your big bro isn’t the only one getting a happy ending tonight.” She snarls as she snips those words at me. Thankfully, everyone else has moved toward the entrance, and it’s just Trixie and me straggling in the lot. She pivots on her heels toward the restaurant, and my hand reflexively reaches for hers. Trixie looks down. Her eyes widen as if a snake just latched on.

“I’m glad you’re here.” I give her hand a quick jostle before letting go, and she looks up with a shy smile. If I were a betting man, I’d swear her cheeks just pinched with color. But it’s dark, and cold, and she’s giddy as hell to see me suffer with Miranda by my side, so I seriously doubt Trixie Toberman is blushing just for me.

“So am I.” She clears her throat as if the words pained her to say them. “Can’t wait to watch the fireworks between the two of you.” She gets that wicked gleam in her eye again and takes off.

Fireworks. There are going to be fireworks, all right, once I school Sunday for even thinking this was a good idea. We step inside, and the smell of a well-broiled sirloin mingling with beer hits my senses.

The Sloppy Pelican used to be an old coal miner-inspired restaurant that my father took us to on those rare occasions he skipped through Hollow Brook. The décor for the most part is still intact, old, dusty, plywood flooring, giant Mason jars littering the tables filled with soda and lemonade. Lex says the menu is top-notch now that she and her friend revamped it. That right there stopped me in my tracks, considering the fact Lex hasn’t had a friend in all the years I’ve known her. She did have a boyfriend, the goof who owns this place, Axel Collins. And rumor has it, they’re back together after a six-year separation. That must have been hard, being apart from someone you care about for six long years.

“Rush!” Lex comes at me and slaps me with an embrace. Lex is slender and brooding with a mop of red hair. We used to say she’s Serena minus the bubbly. But tonight, Lex is just as bubbly as her younger sister. She does a quick introduction to Axel, tall, affable dude with a lovesick look on his face each time he looks at Lex.

Good. Lex deserves to be looked at that way. I’d say it’s been a long time coming.

Already seated at the table are Nolan and Misty. Nolan is an older version of me. Hair is a little darker, the worry lines on his forehead a little more pronounced. Misty is a cute bubbly brunette ready to offer a warm smile to anyone who looks her way. She and Seth are pretty close, and I like that they appreciate family as much as we do.

My cousin Marlin is here, sporting his Jepson PD uniform with the big shiny badge on his chest. He’s told me a dozen times that uniform is the easiest way to get a piece of ass. It’s apparently a chick magnet right up there with puppies and babies. Trixie plants herself between Seth and Sunday, and Miranda is the only person here with an empty seat next to her, so as soon as I wish my brother a happy birthday, I take the obligatory seat next to my unwanted plus one. Thankfully, Nolan and Misty are to my right and smack across from them is Trixie Toberman looking as if she’s ready to slice off the first dick she sees.

Lex stands and taps her knife against the glass in her hand. “Can I have everyone’s attention? I just wanted to thank you all for coming out tonight for Nolan’s sixty-ninth birthday party.” The table titters with laughter. Nolan hasn’t crested the wrong side of thirty. “And to let you know that Nolan and Misty have finally set a date for their fabled wedding!” A light round of gasps circles the table as we shift our attention to the bride and groom-to-be.

Nolan stands, and so does Misty. “I just want to say thank you for coming out tonight.” My brother takes a deep breath as he says it. “I know you guys are busy, and I also know Lex lured you here with the promise of cake.”

I let out a howl and salute Lex in the process.

Nolan nods my way. “But what I really was looking forward to tonight was to let you in on the date Misty and I settled on that we’ll mark off for years to come as the day we officially tied the knot. Anyone want to take a guess?”

“Valentine’s Day!” Sunday claps as she says it, but Misty shakes her head.

“November, Friday the thirteenth!” Serena spits it out, and we share a laugh.

“Nope.” Nolan winks over at me. “That will be Rushford’s wedding date.”

A cool hand rides up the back of my shirt, and I turn reflexively toward Miranda and that drunk grin she’s sporting. I know what that look on her face signifies, and I’m sorry to be the one to break it to her, but I’m not itching to gift her any relief tonight.

“Sounds like a plan.” She giggles into me.

“March third,” I belt it out, shifting just enough to let Miranda’s hand fall away.

The table grows stone silent as all eyes suddenly become downcast. March third just so happened to be my mother’s birthday. I don’t know why, but I thought maybe Nolan would take that day on his own as a tribute to our mother. I would. I think it’s beautiful.

“No.” Nolan winces at me as if I just publicly humiliated myself.

“What’s March third?” Trixie asks Sunday, and my sister is quick to whisper into her ear.

Trixie’s beautiful mouth falls open as she turns my way, her eyes suddenly filled with sorrow for me.

Marlin slaps his beer onto the table like a gavel. “Hell, New Year’s Evil. That’s when I’d do it. If you have to go out, go out with a bang, dude.”

“You guessed it!” Misty jumps into my brother’s arms, and they share a simple kiss. Something about the way they linger reminds me of that night with Trixie in the bathroom at Beta house, and my balls beg to replay that moment on a loop.

We toast the happy couple, to Nolan’s birthday, to love—and the L word itself feels foreign coming from my lips. I haven’t said that word since before my mother passed away. It’s never been a word I’ve used with my siblings. For sure my father hasn’t uttered it to me once. My stomach grinds at the thought of falling in love. In a world of possibilities, where I was spoon-fed to believe that there was nothing on this planet I could not achieve, that’s the very thing I never thought was possible for me. Love—romantic love seems moronic on a basic level, and yet I’m glad Nolan and Misty found it. Lex and Axel, too.

Dinner wears on with every third person engaging in a micro conversation. Seth keeps chewing Sunday and Trixie’s ear off while Miranda whispers all of her pornographic intentions directly into my ear.

“Wow.” Trix lifts her brows with just as much measured sarcasm as she injected into her voice. “Looks like things are really heating up across the way.”

I glance to Nolan, silently pleading for help, but Misty is quick to distract him by begging him to dance with her. The Sloppy Pelican, much like the Black Bear, has a dance floor with a live band not too far from where we’re seated. And just like that, half the table evacuates.

Miranda wraps an arm around my shoulder like the quiet slither of a python. “That’s right. Rush and I are infamous for lighting the sheets on fire.”

Seth snorts at the thought. “You and half of Briggs,” he says under his breath. Usually I’d kick him for that quip. A comment like that is a surefire way to turn a girl off, but right about now I feel like penning him a thank you.

Miranda gurgles out a laugh so caustic it reverberates right through me. She leans in until her tits have found a home over my chest, and I shoot a quick glance to Trixie.

“She bangs.” Trixie rises out of her seat and pulls Seth with her. “Come on, Baker. Shut up and dance with me.”

Miranda dusts my nose with a quick kiss. “And that’s exactly where you and I are headed as soon as I get back from the little girls’ room.” She takes off, leaving a trail of perfume in her wake. It’s so damn strong it’s burned off all the hair in my nostrils and taken at least ten years off my lungs.

I slap my hands onto the table and lean in toward my sister with a look that says I’m pissed.

“Whoa.” Sunday leans back. “Is that how you ask the girls to dance, or are you honing a glare you plan on sporting come Halloween night? It’s frightening, by the way.” She smirks over at me as if tickled to see me so ticked.

I’m about to ask her what the hell she’s thinking inviting Miranda here tonight—as my date no less, but something better comes to mind just as the music starts in on a sappy love song.

“Yup. It’s my dancing face.” I pick up her hand and dash us to the center of those swinging hips as the couples on the dance floor get close and intimate. I hold Sunday a respectable length away, not just because she’s my sister, but because I want to set an example for her—show her exactly how much distance two people should have when going toe to toe. I do my best to crane my neck in an effort to find Seth and Trixie. And there they are, laughing it up over something. Probably me if I had to take a wild guess.

Sunday waves her hand over my face. “You okay? I don’t think we’ve danced together since my sweet sixteen.”

“Yeah, I’m great.” I move us over to ground zero where Seth is intently saying something to Trixie, and her perfect little pout falls open just the way it did for me that night. My stomach wrenches at the sight. In no way am I going to let him take advantage of her like that. “How about we switch things up?” I tap Seth on the shoulder, and as soon as he spins around, I toss my sister in his arms like a side of beef and steal Trixie. But instead of holding her out a solid foot from my body, I pull her in close, just an inch shy of adhering to my chest. My arms wrap around her tiny waist as she circles her arms across my back. It feels good holding Trixie this way, like a relief, and I still can’t pinpoint whether or not it has anything to do with the drought I’ve unleashed on myself. My fingers press into her soft skin, and I die a little on the inside. I’ve held my fair share of girls, done exactly this with them on occasion, but I’ve never felt so damn turned on in my entire life. Trixie is setting off all the bells and whistles my dick can handle without exploding into a full-blown salute.

“Wow, it’s almost like you knew.” Her eyes grow wild.

“Knew what?”

She bites down on her lips as she looks past my shoulder. “Never mind.”

“That you wanted to dance with me?”

“Get real.” She leans in close and her tits press against my chest, so fucking soft. Shit. The song changes, and Trixie sucks in a quick breath. “So where’s Randy Mandy? She in the back getting it on with a waiter as a means to build up to the big event?” Her eyes quickly glide down my body. “Sneaking in an appetizer before the main course?”

“Oh, honey, I’m an appetizer, a main course, and a dessert.” I can’t help but grunt it out with pride. It’s true, though. Or at least it used to be when I participated in life’s favorite sport. “So what’s with the name calling? You have something against Miranda?” A smile begs to expand over my lips, but I won’t let it.

Trixie scowls at me, and I can’t help but lap it up. Is this a hint of jealousy I detect? “Everyone has something against Miranda. She designs it that way. People like her thrive on chaos both in and out of the bedroom.”

“Other people seem to like her.”

“Sure they seem to like her. But she’s annoying as hell. Everyone at the table thinks so but you,” she snarls at me. “Nobody’s stabbed her eyes out yet, but it’s still early.” Her lips quiver for a moment, and as much as I’d like to think it was with wanting, or the fact she was near tears because she can’t contain her feelings for me, it’s most likely rage. Anger seems to be her go-to emotion. “What exactly attracts you to her? Is it her stunning level of intellect? Or are you mesmerized by her pit hair?”

A quick laugh expels from my throat.

Trixie shrugs. “Miranda is notorious for ditching the razor weeks at a time. I’m just saying.”

“I’ve never noticed.”

She glowers at me a moment. “Overlooking her faults? It must be true love. So I guess she’s the one, huh? At least Sunday seems to think so. Especially after you decried the expansion of your condom wall art.” A smile flirts with her lips, and I can feel the zinger coming a mile away. “It was very brave of you to take on all those coeds the way you did.”

Here we go. “It was the only real contribution I could think of to offer the university.”

“You did the right thing.” She bats those doe eyes up at me, the curve of a devious smile rounding out her lips. “On behalf of WB girls, past and present, thank you for your services. I’m sure your bucking bronco moves will be missed by many.”

My brows dip at that crass comment, and before I can say a word, the music shifts to yet another slow number and I’m relieved because in no way am I ready for this to be over.

Trixie sucks in a breath. “This is my favorite song!” Her lips clamp together, and her eyes sparkle with instant tears.

“Nice cover.” I give a sly wink. “We both know you’re moved to tears because I’m holding you in the safety of my arms. You have a propensity for falling, remember?”

“Oh, you.” She slaps me over the chest. “I’m serious. It’s Elvis. I’m sort of obsessed with the King.”

I lean back and let the music drift through me a second. “Only Fools Rush In,” he muses.

“Hey”—Trixie tilts her head to the side, and that sparkle in her eyes is replaced with a devious look—“do you think it’s a coincidence that the word fool comes right before your name in the title?”

A groan works its way up my throat. “You’re not funny. And for the record, I happen to like Elvis, too. My mom was a huge fan. She had a playlist of his songs she’d play on a loop until I felt as if his ghost was going to pop out and start performing in our living room.” I stop cold as that stupid grin I’ve been wearing glides off my face. “I guess, at this point in my life, I’d do anything to have her ghost pop up in my living room.”

Trixie’s affect softens as her body sags against mine. “You miss her.” She runs a finger over my cheek, and a fire unleashes in its wake. “I’m so sorry.”

“Knock, knock.” Miranda pops up from over Trixie’s shoulder, and the two of us jump apart, allowing Miranda the moment she needs to crash the party. Before I know it, Trixie has disappeared and I’m finishing out the song with Randy Mandy.

Once it’s over, I make an excuse to leave the dance floor, and soon we’re back at the table blowing out birthday candles. After cake and wishing Nolan well, our small group quickly disbands.

“Thanks, Lex.” I pull her in and accept a warm embrace. “You know, there’s something softer about you since the last time I’ve seen you, and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“I can.” She pulls back and jabs her boyfriend Axel in the gut. “This guy right here.” She gives a little shrug, her nose wrinkling the way my mother’s used to. Lex and my mother were close, especially after Lex’s own mother ran out on her. “Love makes you soft, Rush.” She cups the side of my cheek as if I were still eight-years-old. “It sands off all the rough edges and makes you who you were destined to be all along.”

“Agree.” Nolan comes up and slaps me over the back. “So stop dipping your wick into everything that moves and fall in love already, would you?”

“Hey!” Misty smacks my brother over the chest. “You can’t rush these things.” She touches her fingers to her mouth a moment, holding back a laugh. “No pun intended, of course. Thanks for coming by tonight. I look forward to us all getting together more often now that we’re going to be family.”

“I do, too.” We wrap it up in a group hug while doing a quick scan for my sister and Trixie, and there’s a heaviness inside me once I note their absence. Oddly enough, I think I realize that feeling isn’t quite for my sister as much as it is for Trix.

That girl has me going places I don’t think I should ever venture.

I head on out and spot Seth and Trixie as the valet brings up his car.

Shit. He’s really doing this. He’s going for it, and Trixie is falling right into that lap rocket I’m sure he has just waiting to greet her.

“What’s up?” I give a curt nod Seth’s way.

“What’s up with you?” His eyes narrow in on me as the valet hands him the keys. “Miranda wanted to let you know she’s in the restroom.”

Trixie grunts, “I believe she referred to it as the little girls’ room. I’m sure she’s powdering all her pink parts just for you.” She snipes the words at me as if each were its own white-hot bullet.

“Oh, right.” Crap. The last thing I need is getting saddled with Smirnoff tonight while Seth gets the gold. Nope. Not happening. “Actually, she asked if you could wait for her.” I stare Seth down a moment, not sure where I’m going with it. “She mentioned something about needing a lift to her apartment. I guess you both live in the same building.” Brilliant. I happen to know for a fact Miranda lives at Kappa G, but Seth doesn’t know that. “I’ll give Trixie a lift and spare you a few minutes. Thanks for coming out.” I grab Trixie’s hand and sail her through the parking lot, suddenly thankful I didn’t bother with valet for the night myself.

Trixie gets into my truck, bubbling with laugher as we speed out of the lot.

“I’m guessing Randy Mandy shut you down for the night? Either that or you just avoided the hell out of that Smirnoff situation.”

I don’t say anything as we wait for the light to change. My mind is still reeling and I don’t know what I’ve done, but one thing’s for sure—I don’t feel like spilling the truth to Trixie. The girl has an ego, an attitude. Hell, I don’t know what you call it. But she’s got plenty of it.

“I wouldn’t worry about Miranda. I’m sure if he’s up for it, Seth might even get lucky tonight.” There. If Trixie has any misgivings that things are going in a romantic direction with Seth, I hope to God I just killed it. Seth isn’t the kind of guy I picture Trixie with. She needs someone more her speed. Seth is a junior with way too many girls under his belt, even if he’s not slaying them by the dozens the way I was.

“Wow. Didn’t see that coming. I guess when you’re at your level of the fornication game, you just sort of accept the fact your girlfriend is going to cheat on you.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. Never had one.”

“Aw, well, it’s a novelty you probably have no interest in.” She slaps her knee, and I can’t help but follow her curves right up to that illuminated angelic face of hers. Scratch that. Trixie is a devil through and through.

“Not true,” I’m quick to counter. “Part of giving up my playboy ways is all about exploring my options. And a girlfriend, as in singular, is something I might just test drive.” I shrug it off because most likely I won’t. “Nolan and Misty are happy. Knox and Harper. You know the drill.”

“Oh, honey, I do. And believe you me, I’ve got a plus one on my bucket list, too, but I guess that’s sort of way down the line for the both of us. I’m not exactly the world’s easiest person to get along with.”

“You’ve got that right.” We share a quick laugh.

I pull in behind Cutler Tower, the dark side of the dorm where not even the moonlight dares to tread and there’s not a soul in sight. I get out and we walk toward the monolithic structure following navy shadows of the night.

“Thanks for ride. Sorry you’re not getting laid tonight.” Her sarcasm shines right through her apology, and I hold back a laugh.

“No, you’re not. I have a feeling you like to see me tortured.”

Her eyes widen as she bears into mine, and I’m trapped. Something about those unearthly colored eyes, they have the power to hold even the strongest of men.

She pumps her shoulders. “There’s having fun—and then there’s tormenting you. I’m all about the latter.” Trixie stops shy of the corridor that leads to the elevator, and her eyes shine like twin diamonds, each its own brilliant stone. Her lips quiver a moment as she steps in close.

Get a grip, boy. I try to talk myself down off the ledge I’m on. Knox keeps jumping in my head, begging me to keep an eye on his baby sister, protecting her from the perverts floating around.

I swallow hard, trying to figure out what I want to say. I know for a fact it isn’t goodnight.

“You are tormenting me.” My finger glides over her lips like a reflex, and her eyes grow large. Her chest expands as she steps one inch closer, and that’s all I need for affirmation.

My hand slips behind her neck, my fingers stabbing into her thick glossy hair, so slick and shiny it makes you want to touch it all day long, and I pull her in close. I lean in, my heart detonating in my chest, one booming explosion after the next. My lips part to greet her. I don’t close my eyes until the last possible second just drinking down that stunned look on her face. And just like that, I swipe my lips over hers just barely.

Trixie molds into me, her arms wrapping around my neck pulling me closer with a greedy fervor. She presses a long, lingering, meandering kiss over me, and we both groan in unison. A knot builds deep down in my gut because I know this is wrong. Everything in me knows Trixie Toberman is the very last person I should be doing this with. Knox pops into my mind, and I pop him right back out. Sorry, dude. You lose tonight. This girl, these lips belong to me at the moment, and I’m about to take ownership of them in the very best way. My hand rides up her back, feeling out her body as if I were a cartographer in need of every last detail. Her chest presses hard against me until I can feel every last pillow soft ounce of the girls. Trixie muscles me closer until her fingertips burn into my flesh.

Our mouths move in a preciously slow rhythm that I don’t believe I’ve ever experienced before, and it feels strangely erotic. Trixie’s vanilla perfume makes me hungry for her in ways that are perfectly beastly, and in no way can I ever think of this girl as a sister ever again. Not sure I ever did. If anything, that first kiss cured us of that. Her lips open and her tiny wet tongue delves into my mouth and I chase it around as if I were feral.

Holy crap, I have never felt so insanely charged by a kiss of all things. In all of my past experiences, the kisses were the least titillating as far as anything that’s ever happened behind closed doors. Never in my life has a kiss had the power to skyrocket me to the moon and beyond, and that’s exactly what Trixie and her mouth have the authority to do.

I’m high, drunk, so jacked up on what Trixie’s doling out I don’t ever want this feeling to end. I don’t want this kiss to come to a conclusion. Selfishly, I want the night to go on forever so we can stand here doing just this—savoring one another in the dark, away from prying eyes, as if we were Whitney Briggs’ best kept secret. And in a way we are. I certainly am not about to whisper a word about this to anyone. I’ll leave it up to her what she decides. For now, having Trixie all to myself this way feels like more than enough.

Her legs hike up around me, and I lift her up by the thighs, holding her, pinning her to the wall of Cutler Tower as our mouths cut loose, run wild, slow down, then speed back up again. My insides spin with a feeling I’ve never felt before. My body screams to have her, to beg her to have her way with me, and yet not a single part of me wants to ruin this perfect moment, this perfect kiss.

If this is what it’s going to be like with Trixie, it’s safe to say I’m screwed. There will never be another moment where I won’t crave her mouth, the gentle swatting of her tongue, those little noises she’s making as if what we’re doing right now pleased her to no end.

But deep inside of me a flare is going off. Red flashing lights, bells that won’t stop ringing, all doing their best to warn me that I’ve just treaded where I don’t belong. Trixie deserves some decent kid who doesn’t have a Guinness worthy track record of sleeping around. I can’t get that idea out of my mind.

This can’t be right.

We’re not right.

I shouldn’t have done this. It’s all my fault. Nothing about this is good.

It’s happening way too fast, and everybody knows—only fools rush in.