Crushed (Rushed #2) (23 page)

"Yeah. She texted. She's running behind." He came into the living room and took the chair next to the sofa where I was sitting.

"If you say that's typical female behavior, I'll totally forget you saved me and have to kill you."

He laughed.
 

"How's apartment life?" I asked.

"Almost a week in—epic." He leaned forward like he was about to tell me a secret. "Just between you and me?"

I nodded.

"I'm trying to talk Seth into moving in with me at semester."

"Miss the old roomie, huh?"

"Yeah. He kind of grew on me. And I could use someone to take out the garbage."

I laughed. "Then what will
we
do about the garbage if you steal our new favorite houseboy?" It felt good to be joking around with him again.

"You'll survive." Secret over, he sprawled back in his chair. "How are you feeling? Alexis said you were sick earlier in the week."
 

It seemed to me that the question was more than innocent. That he and Alexis suspected something. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. "Better, thanks."

"Good to hear." He studied me, looking too nonchalant and casual. "I hear you and Dakota are tight now."

My cheeks went into full flame mode with the implication. Gossip ran high in the house, and either Dak or Alexis could have filled him in. There was no use denying it. I kept my tone casual and light. "Misery loves miserable company. Odd bedfellows and all that crap. Dak has probably told you. We're keeping an eye on each other. Sobriety buddies, we're calling it. Just until our birthdays and we move past that MIC/MIP mess."

"Just buddies?" He didn't look like he believed me.

"Yeah, of course."

His eyes narrowed. He knew. Of course he knew.

I deflected any further questions by going on the offensive. "How are things with your parents? Who are you spending Thanksgiving with?"

He swore beneath his breath. "Both of them. I get two Thanksgivings this year to make up for all their shitty behavior for my entire childhood. The newness of my near-death episode hasn't worn off yet. When it does, I'm sure it will be back to business as usual. And I can go back to living my own life without being smothered." He paused. "Alexis and I are giving Dak a ride home for the break."

He was testing me again.
 

"Are you? Good to know he isn't getting behind the wheel of a car again. I guess I can cross checking up on his ride home situation off my sobriety pal checklist." I smiled, trying not to show I was hurt by Dak's sudden lack of attention. "Keep an eye on him over break, will you? Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."
 

"Talk about giving a guy an impossible task!" Zach smiled and shifted in his chair. "How about you?"

"Victoria's giving me a ride." I sighed. "It's going to be a hellish week. Torn between two Thanksgivings. Half the day with Dad, half with bitter Mom. Who will make a huge dinner and expect me to gorge myself as a form of torture. So I won't be able to eat a bite of my stepmom's cooking. And to cap off the week, a baby shower for my stepmom and soon-to-be baby sister."

He winced. "Family drama."

"Yeah, welcome to the asylum." I shook my head. "A word of advice—pace yourself with the eating."

He grinned and patted his stomach. "No problem there. I'm a bottomless pit." He studied me, looking like there was something more he wanted to say. "Morgan, you've always been a little like a sister to me."

Which was true. But then, so were most girls in the house. Zach was always trying to brother people to make up for accidentally killing his little sister when he wasn't much more than a baby himself. But we had a special bond because I had an older brother who died before I was born. I was the replacement child. I should have seen that Zach had been brothering me before, and nothing more. But having a crush on a guy kills good judgment and common sense.

I smiled encouragingly and tried not to get emotional. I was glad he still felt that way after all that had happened.

"Take this as brotherly advice." He hesitated, holding my gaze. "For your own good, don't lose your heart to Dakota. He's my best friend. I know him better than anyone. He's a good guy. But he's capable of being an epic douchebag, too."

I started to stutter a lame response just as Alexis came down the stairs and spotted us.
 

Her gaze bounced between us. Although she smiled, her eyes grew narrow and suspicious. "There you are!"
 

Zach stood. She ran to him and threw herself into his arms. It was clear she was making a statement.
 

The truth was—I looked on dispassionately. I wasn't in love with Zach. But why had he warned me about Dakota? And was I that obvious?

Dakota

I sailed into Thanksgiving break feeling like the world's biggest jerk for avoiding Morgan. I needed time to process. I needed time to figure out what the hell I wanted and what I was doing. I needed to figure out my feelings for Jordan.

My first night back for break, Jordan insisted on partying with a group of her friends from high school. Four of her girlfriends shared a rented house in Ballard. The night was dark and stormy. Rainy. Typical for Seattle in November. The weather restricted the bounds of the party to the house, which rocked with music.

Jordan drove, which pissed her off. Her car was old, parking was hard to find, and gas was expensive. When I slipped her a twenty to cover it, she took it gladly, but scowled at me to show her displeasure with my situation. That it had all been over a fake show of hurt and anger over Alexis peeved her. She hadn't forgiven me for that.

As we got out of the car and walked toward the party house, she hung on my arm like she owned me, possessive in a clingy way I hadn't noticed before.
 

She cooed in my ear, "Be good and you'll get laid later." She stroked my cheek. "I've missed you, baby."

I wasn't turned on. I didn't reply or rush to assure her I'd missed her, too. I'd never been good at lying to her. I was saved from responding when the door to the house opened and Marsha, her high school best friend, waved to us.

"You're here! Let the party begin." Marsha hugged me and pulled us into the house as I held Jordan's hand. "Dakota! Long time no see. Come on in and get yourself a drink. Coats in the first bedroom to the right. Keg's in the kitchen. Hard stuff's on the table. There are a ton of new people here, Dak. A good crowd. You'll like them.

"Jordan, introduce him around." She whispered something into Jordan's ear while slyly looking at me. The two of them had a good laugh at whatever she said.

Jordan pulled me up the stairs, introducing me to person after person. I felt like I was on display, the trophy boyfriend. The rich boy.
 

In the kitchen, I poured Jordan a beer and grabbed a cola for myself.
 

"Are you serious?" She stared at my beverage as I handed her a beer. "Is there anything in that?"

"What do you think?" I said.

She grabbed a bottle of cheap rum from the table and poured a healthy dose into my cup so quickly I didn't have time to pull it away. Then she grinned. "There! All better."

I glared at her.

The party was a bore. Over half the people worked together. I was on the outside of their inside jokes. Jordan chugged beer after beer and hung on my arm, chiding me for being a stick-in-the-mud when I dumped my drink down the sink untouched.

"Righteous prick." She glared at me and pouted. Then begged me to get her another beer.

As the night wore on and people got drunker, they laughed at the stupidest, most inane things. Jordan thought they were hilarious, and drank more.

After a couple of hours, I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the group she was hanging with. "Let's ditch this place."

"Good idea." She slurred her words.

Shit. She was plastered.

She grabbed my arm, as much for balance as seduction, and pulled me to the bedroom where the coats were stored. We were alone in the room. She shut the door and threw her arms around me, grabbing my crotch in the process. "I've missed you. Let's do it. Here. Now. I want you so bad."

"Not when you're like this." I held her at arm's length. "You're drunk."

"What? Now you've become a romantic?" She fumbled with the zipper to my jeans.

I caught her hand, staring her down.
 

She burped and turned green. "Let go!"

I was no dummy. I dropped her hand and watched her rush to the connected bathroom. A second later, I heard her puking. We'd been here. Done this before. But we usually got hammered together. The world was a different place when you were the only sober one at the party.

I'd been resisting the urge to drink all night, but I was tired. And tired of fighting it. Tired of being odd man out and feeling misplaced. A downer. A wet blanket. Me, the life of Tau Psi. My rep would soon be in serious tatters. My mouth went dry.
 

Ah, shit.
 

I had to talk to Morgan before I pounded down a beer or six. I pulled my cell phone out and called her before I thought too much about it or how calling her complicated things. "Hey, sobriety bud. I'm at a party and my ride is puking in the bathroom, totally shitfaced. What do I do?"

"Call a cab," she said without missing a beat.

The sound of her voice made my heart race. Fuck, I wanted her. I needed her. I'd been furious with her about the pregnancy scare she hadn't shared with me. Scared. Relieved. You name it. Now I just missed the hell out of her.

"Now why didn't I think of that?" I said.

"Party fog. It messes with the mind." She paused. "You aren't drunk, too?"

"I'm insulted. Do I sound drunk?"

"Not a good test, Dak. You can be a surprisingly erudite drunk."

Her laugh made me smile.
 

"I'll take that as a compliment. It's taken great restraint to avoid drinking. I'm surrounded by saboteurs. That's why I need you." Why had I said that?
 

She laughed. "Need me, do you?"

Shit, she had to pick up on that slip of the tongue.

"What do you want me to do?" she said. "Jump on my white public transit steed and rescue you? Where are you, anyway?"

"Ballard."
 

She paused again, like she was thinking. "Too far."

"Where are you?"
 

"Dad's. In Puyallup."

"Ah," I said. "Far away."

"Far, far away. Locked in a tower under the watchful gaze of my evil stepmom." She sighed. "There will be absolutely no fun here. And no temptation to drink. She's warned me she's put a sensor on the liquor cabinet. If I so much as open the door, the security company will send her a message. And she'll know who the culprit is. Apparently, I'm the only one without the code to disarm the alert."

"Wicked. And shows no sense of trust."

"Yeah. And she's totally naïve. If I wanted to drink…" She laughed again. "Call a cab, Dak. Text me when you're home safely." She hung up just as Jordan staggered to the bathroom door and braced herself against it.

She was trying to be seductive, but she was wobbly on her feet. She summoned me with a crook of her finger.

I sighed and went to her. As I put my arm around her to support her, she breathed puke breath in my face. I looked away. "I'm calling a cab and taking you home."

"I'm not leaving without my car."

"You can get it tomorrow." I pulled her toward the bed to look for our coats.

She punched me in the shoulder and swore. "I'm not leaving. What's wrong with you? I'm not going home in a cab." She glared at me.
 

"I'm going."

"Fine." She glared at me. "You're going alone."

"You can't drive home."

She shook loose from me, swearing. "I'll spend the night here."