Page 9 of Slick & Spooky

“I don’t think he’s into it,” Joey yells, leaning close so I can hear him over some EDM remix.

I shrug, eyes still scanning. “That’s what he wants you to think.”

Joey scoffs, “You’re obsessed.”

“Maybe, but I’m not wrong.”

He snatches a jello shot and shoves it into my hand. “You need a distraction. Find someone else to make out with. Loosen up. Touch grass. Touch ass. Something.”

I knock the shot back, feeling the lime and vodka burn sharper than it should. He’s joking, but he’s not wrong. Maybe if Knox won’t come to me, I can drag him in another way.

I swipe my mouth with the back of my hand, toss the cup into a nearby trashcan.

“You’re right,” I say, scanning the room again, but this time hunting for someone else. “Let him see what he’s missing.”

The crowd swallows me before Joey can respond. I push through the sea of bodies, catching eyes as I go, smiling at some, ignoring most. Until I spot her.

Emily.

Kappa Nu pledge. Platinum blonde, blue eyes, legs for days.

She exudes the kind of slutty mouse energy that makes every joke made in Mean Girls feel carved in stone. Black lace lingerie, Party City ears, perfume like sugar and gasoline.

We’d been paired for some mixer during her philanthropy week, clicked in the shallow way Greek life friends do. Not Sunday-afternoon-hangout close, but safe.

She sees me and squeals like we’re soulmates and launches herself into my arms. She’s featherlight, saccharine, and entirely overwhelming.

“I’ve been looking for you!” she shouts, clinging tight.

“You have?!”

Emily knows I’m gay. Everyone does. But the way she drapes herself over me says she’s either drunk or desperate for an escape from a houseful of guys who’d sell a kidney to get her number.

I get it. I’m a good excuse. Everything she needs to survive a party like this. Harmless, familiar, and hot in a way that doesn’t threaten her.

“You have to dance with me!” Emily tugs me into the circle of her sisters like I’m her prize for the night.

When she spins, pressing her body into mine, I finally see him.

The lights stutter and flash, but in one sharp blink, I find him. He stands with a half-circle of brothers, nodding along like he’s listening, but he’s not.

Not with the way his eyes won’t leave me.

It’s not just heat. It’shunger.

Emily grinds back against me, hair whipping, hips rolling. I skim my hands along her waist, playing along, and she presses them harder against her curves.

“You’re the only one I’d let touch me like this,” she purrs.

“I’m honored!” I yell, loud enough to carry.

She giggles, calling back. “Don’t be. You’re gay and not a total weirdo.”

I laugh, sharp and barking, but my eyes never leave him.

He takes a slow swig from his drink, gaze locked so tight on me it feels like the beer is secondary. He swallows, tilts his head like he’s cataloging every move, then lets the faintest ghost of amusement play at his mouth before it dies in his eyes.

My chest tightens, heat flooding my face.