Crushed (Rushed #2) (11 page)

"Awwww, that's sweet." Kelly, the house president, gave us a thumbs-up. "Are you two staying in?" Her gaze flitted over our outfits. "You should come with us. The Zeta Nus are having a freezing rain party."

Kelly sounded so sweet and innocent. But she had to know I was on social probation. So was she dangling forbidden fruit in front of me on purpose.
 

My heart pounded, but I smiled sweetly and nodded toward Alexis. "We're staying in. Having a girls' movie night together. A little big/little bonding. I'm going to shower her with popcorn and share my favorite Halloween movie with her,
Van Helsing
."

I felt Alexis stiffen beside me, but I wasn't about to give her an out. She and I were going to bond, damn it. Not like I was terribly thrilled about it, either.

"That's a cornball movie," Kelly said.
 

"Hey!" I said. "Hugh Jackman looking hot and killing vampires." I gave her a look like,
come on!
"Do I insult your movies?"

Kelly laughed. "Point taken."

Victoria winked at me like she knew what was up. "Well, have fun, then."
 

"Don't break your necks." I waved cheerily at them.

"Thanks, Mom."

Kelly and Victoria headed for the door. I felt the cold blast of air seconds after they opened it. But it was nothing compared to Alexis' frosty demeanor.

Okay, I was the big. So I had to be the bigger person. There was sound logic in there somewhere. Plus I had the most to lose. "You and I got off on the wrong foot," I said. "How about we start over?"

Alexis' eyes narrowed, full of distrust. But I had her right where I wanted her—trapped into accepting my overtures of big/little bonding. I was going to get out of this social probation mess and get back on track if it killed me. As much as Alexis and I disliked each other, that might very well be the case.

"I'll get the popcorn and the movie. What do you want? Original or kettle corn?"

Chapter Eight

Morgan

So the movie night was a huge success. I got points for being the bigger person and trying to make up with Alexis, as ordered. Even though the atmosphere between was thick with distrust, about like the relationship between the vampires and the vampire hunters in
Van Helsing
. I was Anna, the heroine. She was Aleera, out for my blood.

A dozen other girls joined us. Drinking wasn't allowed in the house, certainly not in the common areas. So temptation, and suspicion, avoided.

I slept in past ten on Sunday and woke thinking about Halloween and Halloweekend coming up next weekend. How was I going to deal with those? If I came up with a clever enough disguise, then maybe…

And what about Dakota? Why did he keep invading my thoughts? And why did my heart race when I thought about him and a smile threaten to erupt? I knew the deal, just like I'd told him—hookups didn't make good serious boyfriends. But my heart refused to listen. The way my head and heart were playing ping-pong with my emotions and reason, I was beginning to think I was getting a crush on Dakota. Which was crazy, but the signs were certainly all there. He'd never been anything but second to Zach. Logic said I should stay away from him. But my heart wanted what it wanted. I resigned myself to being conflicted.

I took Alexis to coffee, as I'd promised earlier, and spent the early afternoon expecting a text from Dakota. And Facebook stalking him. Nothing. Screw him.

Around two, I was in the middle of reading for English Lit when my phone rang. When I read, I get so absorbed that I close the world out. The phone startled me. I grabbed it and glanced at the screen. Dakota was calling. Not texting, calling. My fingers trembled as I answered.

"Halloweekend," he said.

"Halloweekend to you, too," I said. "But 'hallo' would have done."

His answering laugh sounded richer and deeper than it had before. And made me smile. I was letting myself get in too deep.

"No, this is serious shit," he said. "On Halloweekend, the booze will flow like water. Temptation will abound."

"Abound?" I smiled.
 

"Thrive. Sobriety buddy, this is our holiday to stick together. Morgan, I need you more than ever."

Did his voice just crack? Or was that laughter? It didn't matter, because my heart had started dancing.

I goaded him. "I didn't know you needed me at all."

"Of course I need you! I need you desperately."

"Only desperately?"

"Tragically."

"That's better. I like tragically. It has a nice ring to it." I couldn't wipe the stupid grin off my face. Involuntary smiling. I was in trouble. "What were we talking about again?"
 

"Partying. An epic, once-in-a-college-years Saturday Halloweekend that we can't miss."

"No need to miss it. Just stay at the frat and hand candy out to children," I said in my most helpful tone.

"Funny, Morgs! As if parents are going to trust us to provide wholesome treats to their babies."

"You mean non-alcoholic, non-spiked treats," I said.

"Yeah, that too."

"No problem. You'll have a steady stream of sorority girls drop by for trick or treats. You always do. They expect alcoholic goodies. I'm sure you can find one you can trick into showing her treats to you." I sounded pert and teasing. But I was holding back a wave of jealousy at the thought. I had to beat this craziness.

"You'd think," he said. "But they'll all be expecting a drinking party animal. I have a rep, you know. It's not fun being the only sober guy in the house. Nothing's as funny as everyone else thinks it is. And you get tired of holding girls' hair back as they puke."

"Nice. You make a good point."

"Damn right I do. And what kind of a sobriety bud would I be if I left you out of the action, alone, fending for yourself against nearly insurmountable odds?"

"You're laying it on a bit thick," I said.

"I'm making a point. I have as much duty to you as you do to me. Because you're banned from any Greek parties—"

"Not if I go in disguise." It was a relief to be able to be honest with someone.

"Shit, Morgan. That's a bad plan." There was real worry in his voice.

It was sweet, and I liked it. "Why? Everyone will be dressed up. I was thinking of going as a one-night stand." I didn't know why I threw that barb out there. Sometimes my evil nature would not be quashed. Dressing like a nightstand was no big deal.

"Having a lampshade on your head would be appropriate for a convicted MIC like you."

I sighed. "I set myself up for that one. But seriously, I'm going to wear a mask—"

"And disguise your voice? Change your personality?" He sighed. I pictured him shaking his head. "Your standards board will have spies everywhere."

"Victoria is my twin. She'll look the other way."

"And Brenda?"

"How do you know about her?" I asked.

"It's my business to know things," he said. "The girl's hot for my bod."

"Egomaniac," I said. But he was spot-on.

"I can see I'm going to have to save you from yourself. I have a better idea. Much better. Wait for it." He paused a beat while I shook my head. "You and me in matching Halloween costumes. We won't even need masks if we don't want them."

My pulse raced as I got irrationally hopeful about a plan that included me and got me out of the house on Halloweekend and into the party scene. With Dakota. Wearing matching outfits, like a couple. "What's your idea?"

"Party refs," he said.

"Party refs?" I frowned.

"We dress as party refs and crash the Geed parties at the apartments."

"I don't know—"

"It's perfect, Morgan. You and me dressed in referee costumes showing up as a team of party refs, going to all the parties and calling the shots. Literally if we want to."

"Will we have whistles?"

"Whistles. Hats. Whatever you want, babe."

Babe? I let it slide.

"You can't refuse. As your sobriety buddy, I insist on this brilliant plan. The roads are clear. The ice has melted. I'll be over in fifteen to pick you up. We're going costume shopping before all the good stuff is sold out."

"You're picking me up? On what? Your bike? How cute." I shook my head, but I was smiling.

"We're walking."

I cursed beneath my breath.

"I heard that. When did you become such a lazy ass? Walking's good for us. We're going to be in damn fine, hot shape by the end of this probationary period."

"Bring your bus pass," I said.
 

Dakota

When Morgan came out of the dressing room to model the sexy ref costume, my mouth went dry. Her short shorts were tight. A glittery silver belt was slung over her hips. And her breasts were pushed up and spilling out of her striped, form-fitting black and white tank top. I had a hard time not staring. I had a hard time all around.

"Well?" She turned her back to me and looked over her shoulder at me with a coy look.
 

The short shorts rode up in the back, revealing perfect, grab-able butt cheeks. The girl was hot. I was playing with fire.
 

"What do you think?"

What I thought was X-rated. "You need a whistle and a pair of striped athletic socks. I have a pair you can borrow." I was standing there in black pants and your standard referee shirt. "And some smoking heels."

She spun around to face me. "I have a pair of black high-heel boots that will be perfect. They're cute. From the front, they almost look like hiking boots or maybe black tennis shoes. From the back, you see the heel. They're awesome." Her gaze ran over me, like she was inspecting me.

Before I could move, she stepped forward and ran her hands over my shoulders, smoothing my shirt. "There. You had a wrinkle."

I had more than a wrinkle. I was completely creased. Morgan was going to be my undoing. We stood almost breast to chest, just inches away. Her shirt zipped up the front. On impulse, I grabbed the zipper and pulled it down a few inches, letting her breasts spill out farther. "Too modest."

She held her ground and smiled up at me provocatively. "Are we done here?"

"Yeah. Go change." I could have stared at her all day. "We'll stop by the sporting goods store for a whistle. If you're good, I'll take you to the candy store after."

"Oh, I can be very good." She winked and bounced off to the dressing room to change.

What was going on here? Were we still flirting with each other?

It took less than five minutes to buy the whistles. This college town was a small town. For years it had resisted any chain stores. That had changed, and the Walmarts and fast food chains of the world had invaded. But the shops on Main Street were still quaint and locally owned, throwbacks to a bygone era. The candy shop, with its jars of confections in bulk, was the place to impress a girl with your sweetness. It was the kind of shop that girls just went
Ah
to.

For Halloween it was decked out with witches, spider webs, black cats, and cauldrons, and every type of Halloween candy imaginable. Inside smelled like sugar and cinnamon, chocolate and licorice. And everything nice.

I held the door open for Morgan.

"I love this place!" She sighed in a way that reminded me of sex.

Around Morgan, everything reminded me of sex. But she more than turned me on. She lit me up. I enjoyed being with her. But how much did I trust her?

"Chocolate frogs!" She pointed to the candy counter. "Jelly beans. Candy corn in school colors. That's cool."

We wandered around the shop.
 

I picked up a candy necklace. "Can I buy you some jewelry?"

She laughed. "Big spender!" She was snooping around the jars of hard candy. "Green apple. Cinnamon. Sour balls."

"Yeah, they have about every flavor."