I draw in a breath and slowly shake my head, my heart beating in my chest like the wings of an excitable bird.
His mouth tugs into a grin. “Well, I’ll let Benneti speak for himself. But I’m totally into you. As if that wasn’t obvious from the last ten minutes.”
I will be thinking about what we did here tonight for a long time to come, because if I close my eyes, I could easily imagine he’s inside me again, making me lose my damn mind. “I still can’t wrap my head around how I was so lucky to run into you that night at the bonfire.” My heart thrums faster and faster. It will not calm itself.
“Maybe it was fate. Call it what you want, but I’m glad it happened.” He leans in and kisses me again.
I can’t believe this gorgeous,kindguy is saying all these things.To me.
“And speaking of fate, I think we’d better not tempt it by walking out of here together. Your brother’s a loose fucking cannon tonight.”
I pinch my eyes closed for a second and nod. I swear to fuck, if Davis is waiting upstairs to find me and lay into me again, I’ll scream. “Agreed. Definitely exit separately. I think I’m heading back to TZE, anyway.”
Emory touches his lips to mine one last time. “Let me know when you get home.”
I jerk my thumb in the general direction of the glass-paned door I’d seen earlier that leads out to a lower-level patio. “Think I’ll just leave from down here. Might be easier to bypass any other disasters.”
“Good call.” He tucks a stray strand of my hair out of my face.
It’s a sweet gesture that has me melting. I look into his soulful, dark eyes and nod. “I’ll do that. You should leave first. I’ll wait a few minutes.” I’m in desperate need of some time to collect my thoughts.
“Okay, then. See ya.” He winks, and a second later, he’s out the door, and I’m left with an entire swarm of emotions buzzing around inside me that I need to rein in before I can think about leaving this room.
Taking several deep breaths isn’t enough to do it. Royal. Davis. Emory. And even Benneti. They all pull at my heart and at my head in distinctly different ways. I have a feeling I’m going to spend this weekend distracted by the torrent of thoughts in my head.
I should text Freya that I’m leaving,notthat my lovestruck big sister even stopped to say hello to me before she went off to suck face with Zane again.
I’m still shaking my head over what a flake Freya has turned out to be when three unfortunate truths hit me in rapid succession. One, I must have set down the little bag I had with me when I was fighting with Davis. Two, my phone is in it. And three, I’m going to have to go back upstairs whether I want to or not.Shit.
Sucking up my courage, I open the door and peek out into the den area we’d passed through earlier. There are still a few guys playing pool, but they’re really into it, and they pay me no attention as I slip from the bathroom and head for the staircase to the main floor. I jog carefully up the stairs in my heels and take a deep breath before making my way through the party. While Emory and I had been downstairs, the drinking and dancing had gone on without us, and the real craziness is just getting started. My gaze swings one way to find a couple that I swear are fucking on one of the couches right in front of everyone, then I look the other way to a crowd out on the patio that appears to be chanting encouragement to some dude who is busy doing a keg stand. There’s beer spurting everywhere. Can’t say I’ve ever tried it before, but it seems like a good time is being had. With a shrug, I keep going. The room I’d run to before is just past the open-concept kitchen and down a hallway. Fuck, that’sifmy bag is even still there. I hope no one steals it. There wasn’t any money in it. Just my damn phone.
It takes me a bit to make it through the wall of dancing bodies, especially when some guy decides to jump off the couch to crowd-surf during one of the songs. Within ten seconds, two more drunk frat boys join in, and then there’s a tangle of shouting, screaming people to push past and flailing limbs to dodge. I’ll be lucky to get through here without getting kicked in the head.
When I finally escape the traffic jam of dancers, it’s like I’m coming up for air after swimming underwater. I breathe a sigh of relief, but then take a swift imaginary kick to the gut at the scene in front of me. Emory and Benneti are in the kitchen … talking to none other than Royal. More than talking. The conversation is volleying back and forth very quickly. And from the look on Royal’s face, he’s pissed as hell. What in the ever-loving fuck?
Some girl screams from the dance floor, grabbing my attention, and when I turn to see what’s going on, it’s that redhead who’d been dancing earlier with Emory and Benneti. She’s crowd surfing. As she coasts atop everyone’s heads and hands, she gives another whoop. “Wilder! Beckham! You should come back to the dance floor! Look at me!” Then, she squeals as some dude gropes her ass.
I frown. Who’s she talking to? Because she’s looking in the same direction I was just looking in. And that makes the hair all over my body stand on end.
My mouth drops open as, in response to her shouts, Emory and Benneti’s heads both turn. Benneti lifts his arm, his fist pumping the air as he eggs her on. “Get it, Darcy girl!”
My gaze swivels back and forth several times, and it’s very apparent that she was speaking to the guys I know as Emory and Benneti. All the air gets sucked out of the room as I struggle to take a breath, and I feel like I’m stuck at one end of a tunnel while the rest of the party is at the other. Everything sounds hollow and far away. I back up a few paces, so they can’t see me and bump right into someone behind me.
“Whoa. You okay?” Freya catches my shoulders, stopping my backward movement. My eyes go wide. Leave it to Freya to show up now of all times. I turn toward her, astonished that she’s here with me. “What’s wrong, Echo? You’re as pale as a ghost.”
At first, I can’t even speak. Can’t formulate thoughts. Then when my brain clicks back into place, I still can’t string words together to put voice to any of my questions. But then, I have to know. I nod toward the kitchen area and exhale slowly. “Do me a favor and take a look in the kitchen. There are two guys talking to Royal. Arguing with him, sort of. What are their names?”
She gives me a look like I’m acting crazy—I totally feel like I am, so that’s fair—but, with a quick shrug, she pokes her head around the corner. She swivels toward me with a confused frown, flipping her hair over her shoulder with one hand. “Um, I don’t get what we’re doing here, but the dark-haired one with tats is Wilder. And you know Beckham. He drove you to fight night.” Her brows pinch together, and she squints, as if she’s trying to poke around in my brain and find out what I’m thinking. Iamacting weird. I know this. But it’s not my fucking fault.
My eyes crash shut, unable to understand how this is happening, and when I reopen them, sure enough, she’s still staring at me like I’ve gone off the deep end. My stomach pitches. I feel sick. I wrench my gaze from hers, my jaw tight as I ask, “What frat do they belong to?”
“Sigma Iota Nu. All three of them.” She shakes her head, then laughs. When I don’t laugh along with her, she stops and presses her lips together, her head rearing back. I feel so fucking stupid. I don’t know why it never occurred to me to ask what frat they belonged to. I’d been so blinded by their kindness, I’d let it slip. I’m smarter than that. At least, I thought I was. Freya and I exchange the most awkward stare ever, her chocolate-brown eyes doing a slow, concerned assessment of me. She looks completely bewildered, then throws her hand out in the direction of the kitchen where I can still hear them arguing. She whisper-shouts, “Um, I thought you knew them? They were on Royal’s bench with you… I mean, it wasn’t weird to me because they’re always there. But it seemed like you knew them pretty well with the way they were flirting with you and pissing Royal off. I thought they were fucking with him and you were fine with it.”
Without answering her question, I mumble. “What are their last names?”
“Emory. And Benneti.” Her perfectly sculpted brows dart together.
Their last names. They gave me their last names. I can’t fathom why, unless— “So, they know each other really well.”
