Page 6 of This Is War: All's Fair Duet

I finish up, and when I’m ready to stand, another burst of embarrassment flares. I peek up to make sure he’s still looking at the wall, then get up and tug my panties back into place. The jeans are a little more difficult, but oncethat’s managed, I wobble over to the sink to wash my hand, mumbling to myself. “Should’ve quit, Rya. That was not cute.”

“Sure it was,” Jaxon says gruffly. His teeth scrape over his lip, and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear before touching a few fingers to my chin. He tips my face to his, and before I know it, his lips are on mine again. They coax and tease, then on a groan, his tongue pushes into my mouth as he leans over me. My ass is at counter height, and without too much trouble, he helps me sit on the edge in front of the sink basin. The hands that are bound, we hold upright between us, and with my other, I tug him closer by the back of his neck while his free hand slides under the hem of my cropped top, grazing the skin of my abdomen. My thighs fall open of their own accord, and I use my legs to pull him between them.

I suck in a gasp as Jaxon tugs the cup on my bra down, exposing my very small breast to his hand. He kneads at my chest, then pulls at the nipple. “Oh fuck.” Sparks go off all along my skin, and I pant into his mouth, unable to control the way sensation after sensation crashes through me.

He slips his hand from my breast around to my back, splaying it over my ass before helping me cant my hips and draw closer. His erect dick lines up with my pussy, and he groans as we grind together. With every secondthis goes on, I’m getting more and more frantic, flying out of control… but also the alcohol is really starting to hit me hard.

My eyelids begin to droop, and I can tell the way I’m responding is a bit slow. I’m really— I put my hand to his chest, unable to even finish the thought. “Jax. I?—”

There’sa percussionist in my head, banging on the most annoying drum ever, and occasionally also crashing his drumstick against the cymbals.Ohmygodpleasestop.Wincing, I clutch at my head with both hands and lie there for several minutes, while my brain throbs to the incessant rhythm. I moan low and long, the sound pathetic as it leaves my lips. Fuck my life. This is awful. My throat is incredibly dry, and I make several attempts at rolling my tongue around to wet my mouth, but… there’s nothing but the texture of sand in there, gritty and gross.

Rolling over, I’m assaulted by an unknown light source and flinch, squinting even though I think my eyes might be shut. My brows draw together painfully. Something isn’t right. The morning sun is hitting me from the wrong direction.What the hell?I put my hand over my face,feeling absolutely wretched. Every breath inhaled brings a fresh wave of nausea.

What have I done to myself? It’s a strain on my post-inebriated mental capacity to sift through last night’s memories, most of which are hazy and… dark. At this point, I have no true recollection of the events after we entered Tri-Beta. I’m sure it’ll come to me. All I know is this might be the worst I’ve felt in my entire life, including the time I got food poisoning from that steak house and puked up my guts for six hours straight. If I don’t help myself soon by getting water and some ibuprofen in me, I’ll be hating life for the remainder of the day.

How the hell did I even get back to my room? Did Logan bring me back? I honestly can’t remember. Shit, I’d better check in with him, just in case. He’s probably wishing he hadn’t escorted us to that fucking frat party. Forcing myself to sit up, I groggily swing my legs over the side of the bed before attempting to pry my eyes open. One thought plays on repeat in my head.

I have regrets.

Pressing my fingers against my forehead, I finally bite the bullet, rejoining the world. The first thing I see is a bottle of water on the nightstand and a handful of painkillers. Without thinking too much, I snatch the pills up and throw them into my mouth, then uncap the waterand take several gulps. I hope it all doesn’t come back up as my stomach pitches and gurgles at the invasion.

In an attempt to calm myself, and the riot in my belly, I take several slow, exaggerated breaths. My lips are parched, and I wet them as I scan my surroundings in a daze. I’m facing a greige wall. My gaze dips down and follows the ornate white trim that runs along the baseboard. The paint is cracked and peeling, and the color itself is kinda dingy, but then again, these dormsareold. I don’t bother looking up, I know the same trim decorates the wall at ceiling height. My mother would know all the fancy names for this stuff, and to be fair, as the daughter of an interior designer, I should probably know it too, but I can’t even focus with my head pounding the way it is. I frown. That window shouldn’t be there. And my bed is situated wrong. As I take in the dark bedding in muted grays and black, my brain stutters. This definitely isn’t the purple duvet I’d come to Deveney Hall with, and my freak-out begins.Oh, fuck.This isnotmy room.

So, where the fuck am I?

4

LOGAN

Three loud,irritating bangs to my door jerk me awake, and I bolt upright in bed. For several seconds, all I can do is blink, trying to clear my vision. A soft snore from across the room tells me Levi made it back from wherever he disappeared to last night. He hadn’t been here when I came in, so it must’ve been at some point after that. I turn my head, rubbing a hand over my cheek as I seek him out. Sure enough, he’s on his stomach, practically face down in his pillow, the huge navy comforter pulled up around his shoulders.

More loud knocking.What the fuck? Who the hell is that?“Logan! Open up!”

I’d be worried they’ll wake Levi, but he’s dead to the world. My brow furrowing, I slip out of bed and pad across the room, flinging the door open. Because I knowwho that voice belongs to—my Friend and a Fifth partner, Hazel. And the reminder of the frat boy challenge explains the slight hangover I’ve got going on.

I eye her with a frown. She looks every bit as tired as I feel, and I bet my hair looks just as bad. Hers is sticking up everywhere like she didn’t bother to do anything to it before she marched the three doors down to me from the room she shares with Rya. It’s not all that unusual to see girls in their natural state living in this style dorm. Evermore U’s living quarters aren’t divided by gender at all. There’s no alternating floors or hallways. There are separate women’s and men’s bathrooms, but that’s about it. My mom laughed when I questioned it and called me old-fashioned. Me, I was simply worried about running into girls in the middle of the night in my fucking underwear.

Yanking my post-party brain back in line, I give her a look that very clearly readsWhat?without me having to verbalize it.

“Is Rya with you?” She leans around me, glancing into the room, her eyes flicking quickly around.

“Um, no.” Confusion crashes through me. “Is she not with you?”

Hazel rolls her eyes. “To mimic you… um, no.”

I was going to say something smart back to her, but I pause before it has a chance to exit my mouth. “The fuck. Where is she?” Stepping forward, I whip my head in onedirection, then the other, hoping to see Rya either exiting their room or returning from the bathroom, but the hallway is empty. “Where have you checked?” I shuffle back into my room, spinning around to look for my jeans from the night before. I locate them over my desk chair, but they feel damp. Bringing them to my nose, I sniff at them. Vodka.Jesus.My eyes cross at the smell.

“Yeah. We spilled a bunch of the vodka while we were drinking it once we got upstairs, remember?”

I narrow my eyes on her. “You spilled it on me, but yes, I remember that part.”

As I’m zipping up the fly of my jeans, the sound of someone loudly vomiting reaches us. My eyes lock with Hazel’s.

“Do you think that’s her?” She bites her lip, looking distinctly more worried than she had when she knocked. I’m positive that’s because she was sure she’d find Rya with me. Like the majority of people do, she assumes—incorrectly—that Rya and I are secretly fucking even though we’ve told her more than once we aren’t dating. We aren’t even friends with benefits.

I’ve thought about it… but she happily dates who she wants. I’m simply here picking up the pieces every time one of them disappoints her. It’s a terrible fucking cycle to be stuck in. I blow out a hard breath and shove my phone in my back pocket. “Well, I don’t know what the fuck else todo. It could be fucking anyone, but I guess we can check.”

We hurry out of the room, leaving Levi snoring behind us, and stride down the hall until we get to the central area between the four wings of the dorm where the bathrooms and elevators are housed. Sure enough, the sound of more barfing reaches our ears.