Crushed - Pamela Ann Page 0,12
of having him close was too hard to resist.
“If I stay”—I licked my lips as I tried leveling a glare in his direction—“promise me you won’t pester me about my family. You’re going to leave me be to party and mingle.”
I wasn’t sure how I managed to say those words without having to breathe much, but I did. My breathing pattern was erratic, and I prayed to God that he would take a step back—something—before I fell faint at his feet. Fucking shit.
Something passed across his face. I wasn’t sure if it was amusement or if he was taking me seriously, but before I could protest, he gave me his answer.
“I promise,” he barely whispered without his eyes leaving my flushed face. “I promise I’ll at least try very hard to leave you alone.”
Hmm, was he trying to be sarcastic? Though he promised something, he didn’t truly mean it. Why was that? He was confusing me. The more I thought about it, the harder it became to understand it. It was best if I left it alone, or I would dig myself a hole so big I wouldn’t ever come out of it.
“You … promise to try,” I reiterated.
He cleared his throat, not backtracking. “That’s right,” he rasped out, eyeing me closely.
We both knew that was a lie. He was being selfish for reasons I didn’t know.
“Okay, I guess that’s good enough.” Apart from his friends, I was his go-to person, his secret go-to person. He would normally call at three in the morning or whenever he was done partying. I supposed it was his way of unloading all of his burden. I was that person—that girl—the one who adored him, but he had never seen because I was always available for him. As much as I hated to be in that position, I couldn’t say no when he needed me around. It was hard to decline his request.
Chapter Four
There was no other choice than to go through with it even though I had a lot of concerns and reservations about my decision-making skills. Then again, I supposed I had never been in the position where he had actually begged me to stay. Also, this was the first party we had been in where Lindsey and Trista weren’t here, because they had prior engagements they couldn’t get out of.
Looking around, I couldn’t spot Carter, Brody, or Cooper around the crowd. Assuming they were busy handling their own business with their other female counterparts, I squashed the budding jealousy each time I thought of Brody cozying it up with someone else. He wasn’t mine, and for me to try and forget about him, though hard, I had to at least try being available to other guys who had less attachments, one who didn’t have any connections to any of my best friends.
Geared with utmost determination not to sulk about my unrequited love, I thought of better ideas to distract myself, starting with the lively surroundings and the crowd who didn’t seem to have a care in the world. Deciding to dive in the pool amongst the happy crowd, I breezily situated myself on a huge, sprinkled donut floatie, armed with sunglasses, a bottle of Corona with a thin slice of lime, a cheesy grin, and nothing else.
The sun was setting low, and before I knew it, college kids started flowing into the party, as well. It was how it usually went when someone was throwing a house party around this part of town—eventually the word spread around, and unknown people started joining in without proper invitation. Santa Barbara was highly known across the country as one of the wildest raging party universities, and weekends usually highlighted that very issue.
Just like any normal party, hot men came flooding in, one delicious six-pack treat after the other. Summer was a serious threat to one’s hungry eyes, most especially for people who were bent on trying to get over someone they loved.
One guy in particular caught my attention. Well, I supposed it was hard not to since he kept smashing against my fun-inspired, sprinkled donut.
The delicious treat in question had light brown hair with au natural, sun-streaked highlights; an outrageous display of chiseled chest; a passable smile; and a seemingly good-natured personality from where I was studying him. He was throwing a football in the pool; hence, the constant donut bumping. Not bad if I had to admit.
He isn’t up to Brody’s hotness factor level, but he’s good enough, I thought as my eyes