Summer Breeze Kisses - Addison Moore Page 0,182

as they are, I’ve only got eyes for my man. I give the crowd a quick look-see for the man in question and come up empty once again. Where the hell is Justin? Just as I’m about to whip out my phone and solve this mystery, Knox steps into view and sheds a devil-may-care grin my way.

I crouch into Lawson as if needing protection and Knox scowls. “The Mustangs lost their quarterback, and he can’t seem to find his way home.”

Knox steps in. “I’m a linebacker, sweetie.”

“Whatever. This link licker just asked to buy me dinner!”

“What?” His eyes grow double in size, and he actually looks affronted by the idea. “I did no such thing,” he growls as if feeding me were the last thing on his perverted list.

Lucky and Ava get waylaid a moment by Gwen, our house mother—read upcoming senior who wields a mean riding crop when the doors to this madhouse are closed to the public. And likewise, both Lawson and Grant get swallowed by the crowd a moment, leaving me with my new spare appendage and his never-ending pursuit to ruin my evening.

My phone goes off, and I’m filled with relief. Finally! I glance down, and just as fast as my adrenaline surged with glee, it dissipates. It’s just a text from my sweet little sister, Harley. Harley just ended her senior year of high school, and I adore her to little pink heart-shaped pieces even if she is a pistol. She’s hanging out with Henry, our older brother for the summer, and I can’t help but smile when I think of the two of them.

How’s this? What’s a moth’s best quality? (Wait for it.) It can’t help but look on the bright side!

I text right back. Cute. Tell Henry I said hi.

Henry is twenty-seven and suffers from cystic fibrosis. He announced to Harley and me last Christmas that his goal in life is to make people happy, thus his newfound mission to write a book full of corny jokes. Henry already does the rounds at the children’s hospital, trying to brighten the day of those poor ailing kids. He used to dress as a clown and pass out balloons, until clowns essentially became the bane of everyone’s existence and the hospital suggested he ditch the rainbow-colored wig or they’d have him arrested. His breathing is so bad he can’t hold down regular employment, so the fact Harley is spending every day with him warms me. Of course, I’ll visit when I can. Hollow Meadows is less than an hour away from Hollow Brook. Plus, Mom’s house is always stocked with the best food money can buy, and good food is something I’ve been short on during my time here at Whitney Briggs University.

I spin around in hopes to secure an ounce of privacy in this crowded room and text the hell out of Justin.

Knox jumps in front of me like a jack-in-the box, and I have a mild heart attack—although I don’t know why. Judging by his fervor to never leave my side, I should expect to find him popping up from the water when I lift the toilet seat. A vision of that dirty grin of his appearing between my legs makes me gasp.

“That’s it. I’m calling the police!” I tap into my phone and hit Send on about a dozen spastic text messages to Justin.

“If you’re really dragging the authorities into this, you’re nuts.” He grunts as if I’ve just fed his cat to the incinerator. I happen to know he has a cat because all of the girls melted last week when he mentioned his cat was the sole reason he chose off-campus housing.

A huff of laughter gets caught in my throat as I plot my getaway. “You’re the one that’s nuts around here. And would you please stop flirting with me?” I vaguely remember meeting his steady girlfriend a few weeks back. If it’s one thing I cannot stand in this world, it’s a cheat.

He chokes a moment as if my words actually had the power to kill him. “I’m not flirting, honey.”

I hike up in his face. “And don’t call me honey!” I try to ditch past him, but he blocks my path.

“Listen”—those dark brows of his narrow into a perfectly straight hedge over his eyes—“I haven’t exactly been hanging out with you all night for my health.”

“God, if you’re going to give me some lame reason why I should follow you in the back and kiss your junk, you’re