and they all laugh.
“Well, someone needs to because I’m about to grab my girl.” Nixon drains his bottle of water, tosses it in a nearby trash can, and heads straight for Tessa.
“Hi, Coop, you look lonely. Want to join me out there?” Lisa—or is it Laura—asks as she approaches me. She has long red fingernails that are pointed at the tip. They look like claws, and they’re not attractive. Not to me. She’s got a red Solo cup in her hand, and from the smell of her, she’s long past tipsy.
“No, thanks. The guys and I are strategizing for the big game.”
“Oh, come on. I’ll make it worth your while,” she slurs.
“Tommy,” I call out to the freshman who’s walking by. “Lisa needs a dance partner.”
“Lori,” she corrects me.
Tommy’s eyes are wide and unsure. “Tommy here will take good care of you. Show her what you’ve got,” I tell him.
He nods, offers her a grin and his arm. She mumbles something incoherent under her breath, but takes his arm, leaning her weight on him. She’s toasted, and sex with drunk girls isn’t on my radar.
“You know,” Levi says, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were either already taken or had your eye on someone.”
“She’s way past drunk. I don’t want to spend my night taking care of her. Tommy can have that privilege.”
“What if it were Reese?” he asks, nodding toward where she stands. Her red Solo cup is poised at her lips, and her head is tilted back.
“Reese is different,” I say, turning to look at him.
He nods. “Good, but it looks like you’re off the hook.”
My head whips around so fast I could have whiplash. Sure enough, Scott Southerland is standing behind her with his hands on her hips. Scott is the brother of one of the seniors, Sam, who is the back-up kicker. He’s been to a few of our parties. Tonight, however, he’s gone too far. I toss my water bottle in the trash and put one foot in front of the other until I reach her.
“Coop!” she says loudly.
Her eyes are glassy from the cheap beer, and her smile is wide. “I missed you.” She throws her arms around my neck, stepping out of his hold. I pull her close, my hand resting possessively on the small of her back.
“I’ve been with you all night.” I say the words to her, but my eyes are on Scott. The look I give him does the trick. He lifts his hands in the air and backs away. Smart man.
“Dance with me.” She shuffles in closer and begins to sway her hips.
With her arms still around my neck, she tilts her head back and smiles up at me. Her green eyes, even glassy from her buzz, are beautiful. She’s beautiful. It’s getting harder and harder for me to keep all the assholes away from her.
“Come on, Coop. You can do better than that.” She then moves to straddle my leg and begins to rock her hips. My cock hardens, as does my grip on her hips.
Everything around us fades to black. It’s just me and her alone in this room. She drops her hands to her sides, brushing my cock as they fall, and I tense up. Closing my eyes, I try to think about anything but how fucking sexy my best friend is and how much I want her. I’ve been hit on countless times tonight, and not one of those women affected me the way Reese is at this very moment.
My Reese.
My best friend.
I’ve got to tramp this down. And I can start by stopping her from rubbing her pussy all over my leg. That’s all I can think about. My grip tightens further, and my leg, on its own, bends to give her better access.
Reese leans her head back, her hair falling over her back, and the long column of her neck is exposed. I can’t help but wonder how she would react if I were to lean in and trace her exposed skin with my tongue. Would she like that?
“Get it, girl!” Hank calls out, pulling me out of my X-rated fantasy about my best friend.
Drunk Reese is on fire tonight. She suddenly drops to the floor and shakes her ass before slowly climbing back to her feet. Her hands roam all over my body. She’s lost in the music, riding the buzz the cheap beer has given her.
Me, I’m stone-cold sober. I feel every touch, every sway of her hips,