Page 12 of Trust Again

I looked at the guy leaning against a doorframe a few doors down, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Beautiful light green eyes returned my gaze.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I’m looking for…” Damn: Sawyer had told me the guy’s name, but I couldn’t remember it for the life of me.

Feverishly, I tried to come up with something. “… the snuggle bunny who lives here. We met last week in Professor Lambert’s lecture; he ran into me and knocked my things everywhere—they went flying into the aisles. Just like in the movies.”

His mouth twitched and he took a slow step toward me. Automatically, I stepped back.

“I’m Brix,” he said, holding out his hand.

Something clicked in the back of my mind as our hands touched. We’d met somewhere.

OMG.He was the same guy who’d gotten Allie so drunk a few months back that she ended the evening by dancing on a table.

I hoped he didn’t recognize me.

“It’s about time you told me your name,” Brix whispered.

Yes! He had no idea who I was.

“I’m Chelsea,” I said, picking the first name that came to mind.

“Nice to meet you, Chelsea.” Brix gave me a half smile. “Your ‘snuggle bunny’ isn’t home right now, and he usually locks his room. But I’m pretty sure he’d be glad to meet you later downstairs. Why don’t we get you a drink?”

I had a feeling he wouldn’t take kindly to rejection. There was nothing to do but go with Brix. He led me into the kitchen and filled a plastic cup with punch that he’d taken out of the fridge.

I toasted with Brix, who’d opened a beer for himself. Then he pulled me over to a leather sofa in the middle of the lounge. I peeled off my jacket, wrapped it along with my scarf around the strap of my bag and set both at my feet. A few guys were already here for the party; they seemed to be frat boys, as well. A huge sound system was brought in and connected, which thundered bass through the whole house.

Cautiously, I sipped the punch. Mmmm. The stuff tasted like fruity ice cream with a hint of vanilla.

“Good, right?” Brix leaned in and put an arm on the back of the couch.

I nodded. “What’s in it?”

His expression turned conspiratorial. “My grandma’s secret recipe.”

I laughed and took another sip. My weakness for ice cream was getting in the way of my mission—the punch tasted like a passion fruit milkshake. I didn’t intend to empty the cup, but it happened by itself while I kept Brix talking about himself so I didn’t have to think up more lies.

When Brix saw that my cup was empty, he got up and pushed his way through the crowd to the kitchen to get me a refill.

Now was my chance.

I grabbed my things and stood up. Everything started spinning, and I had to lean on the back of the sofa with one hand and blink to make it stop. The sweeter the alcohol, the more careful you had to be. It was a rule I’d broken more than once.

I squeezed past the makeshift dance floor behind the sofa and headed for the stairs. Tons of people were milling around already. The air was stuffy and smelled like pot.

Excellent.

I climbed the steps, clinging to the railing. The staircase below me seemed to sway, and it took all my concentration to stay on mission. Upstairs, hardly anyone noticed me. I saw a couple standing close to the wall, going at each other. As quickly as possible in my sorry state, I moved to the third door on the left and turned the knob. In a flash I had pushed through the small gap and closed the door silently behind me.

Holding my breath, I turned around. When I finally inhaled again, the smell of citrus disinfectant penetrated my nostrils.

I would kill Sawyer: where had she led me?

After groping around for a moment, I found the light switch on the right-hand side of the door. Flipping it, I wished I could have thrown a tantrum then and there.

Sawyer’s instructions had brought me right into the bathroom. That fucking idiot. Just as I was digging my phone out of my bag, the door behind me opened, and I was pushed forward. I spun around. Brix was standing in the doorway, eyes narrowed.