“Oh yeah,” he says.
I lean in close to his ear and whisper, “Thanks for the dance. I’ll catch you later, okay?”
I really do have to pee.
He nods at me and goes back to dancing with the girls.
I pee, make sure my makeup looks okay, and head out the bathroom door.
As I come out of the bathroom, Dawson grabs my arm and pulls me off to the side. I’m afraid for a moment that he’s going to try and kiss me again.
“Whitney knows we kissed,” he says.
“Uh, everyone knows we kissed.”
“I’m sorry, okay. I was pretty drunk. I’m still so hung over.”
“You should come with a warning label. Do Not Kiss When Drunk. It was horrible.”
“Sorry. I . . . I’m sorry. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“So, I saw you out there grinding on my brother. What’s up with you two anyway?”
“I want in his pants, and he won’t let me, basically.” I walk away from Dawson, who still has his mouth hanging open in astonishment.
Tee hee.
I look around for the god. He’s nowhere to be found, but I do see Whitney marching toward me. She looks perfect, except for a hint of wrinkle between her perfectly arched brows. Am I in trouble because Jake grabbed me? I thought she had some hot college boyfriend?
“Just who do you think you are?”
I smile sweetly and cross my arms in front of my chest. “I’m Keatyn Monroe. But you already know that.”
I’ve played this game before. Vanessa was like the Alpha of all Queen Bees, an expert at the game. And, really, so am I. I’ve just decided to play for the other team this time. I’m already sick of Whitney, and I’ve only been here two days. No way a girl like this is going to intimidate me. I knew all Vanessa’s dark and dirty secrets. And she was one messed up girl. The way Whitney was snorting cocaine, drinking and making out with Jake and Bryce—well, my guess is Whitney’s messed up too.
“In case you’re too stupid to figure it out, I’m the Alpha here. You can’t compete with me.” She glances down at my dress. “Especially wearing last season’s dress.”
“So?”
She cocks her head at me. “So. I can afford this season’s. This is straight off the runway.”
“Lucky you.” I smile sweetly again even though I’m thinking, What a raving bitch.
“Just because you hit the lottery or whatever, don’t think you can just walk in here and be popular. That’s my job.”
The lottery? What is she even talking about?
“Money is green, no matter how you earn it,” I say.
“You’re no match for me, so don’t even try.”
I laugh and shake my head at her. “You don’t have to worry. I have no desire to be like you.”
“Oh, you will. You’re just the new girl. Fresh meat. That’s the only reason any of the guys are paying attention to you.”
I nod my head, agreeing with her and pretend to suppress a smile. “Yeah, I am. And I’m okay with that. Oh, and by the way, this dress isn’t supposed to impress you.”
“Who is it supposed to impress then?”
“The kind of people that don’t care what season it is.”
She says condescendingly, “I don’t know where you came from, but everyone here cares what season it is.”
I see that Jake is just getting ready to walk by us. Here’s my chance to prove my point and piss her off in the process.
“I don’t think they do. Exhibit A.” I turn and tap Jake’s shoulder as he walks by. “Hey, Jake. Take a look at my dress.”
He seems to love the fact that I just gave him permission to ogle me. He looks me up and down, twice, grinning the entire time.
“So, Jake, do you know who designed this dress?”
He shakes his head and grins. “All I know, Monroe, is you look fucking hot in it.”
“Aww, thanks, Jake.”
As he walks away, I raise my eyebrows at Whitney in victory.
She whispers, “I’ll destroy you,” and stomps away.
I think back to how I told Vanessa to destroy Mandy. And pray it’s just an idle threat.
I check my phone and see that it’s almost ten. So much for my dances with Aiden. Guess he’s not gonna show up. I’ll find Dallas, get out of this dress, throw on some sweats, and head to the cave.
I’m looking around for Dallas when someone comes up from behind me and puts their hands over my eyes. I know I should be worried for my safety in this situation, but I can instantly tell by the dreamy smell that it is the God of all Hotties himself.
I turn to face him. And, once again, he takes my breath away. He’s wearing a black Prada suit that drapes perfectly over his lanky frame. Underneath is a soft black cotton tee and on his feet, gorgeous black and silver cowboy boots. Boots!
“You finished with your dances yet?” he asks.
“Well, all except the ones with you.”
“Awesome. Come with me.” He takes my hand and leads me out the door.
As in outside.
“I thought you wanted to dance with me?”
“Oh, I do.”
“Then where are we going?”
“I’ve got a little surprise for you,” he says sweetly.
I see that he’s leading me to his dorm. So, last night, I was irritated that he didn’t do anything more than kiss me. Tonight, I’m irritated because I’m pretty sure he wants to do way more than kiss.
Why else would he take me to his dorm room?
And that kinda pisses me off.
I can’t figure this guy out.
At all.
Maybe that’s his ruse. He acts like a nice guy. Like he’s not a player. Then a girl thinks, Well, yeah, I know he’s a player, but he was so sweet to me, I must be different than all those other girls, and then she falls in love with him and then he plays her.
He’s sneaky.
I try to make conversation. Safe conversation.
“You always score so many points?”
“No. Never. Those were for you. I’m trying to impress you. Remember, I asked you to be my date and you turned me down, so I had to come up with a new way to monopolize you.”
“And you’re gonna monopolize me in your dorm room?”
“Kinda.” He flashes me another blinding, powerful grin, and I just do as he says. He may also have the power of mind control. I’m not sure yet.
Outside his dorm room, he says, “Close your eyes.”
Okay, is it just me, or is this getting a little freaky? And what the hell does he have in there?
The line, Does this rag smell like chloroform to you? flits across my brain. I have a brief, panicked stalker moment and realize I do not have my purse with the pepper spray in it. I take a deep breath, decide to trust him, and tentatively close my eyes.
I hear the door open and feel his hand on the small of my back, guiding me into the room. The door makes a gentle closing sound.
“Okay, open your eyes.”
I do.
And what I see is not what I expected.
At all.
OMG!
The lights are off and on the ceiling he has strung a bunch of little white twinkle lights. He has a bottle of champagne chilling in a plastic bucket of ice and there are rose petals all over the floor.
It’s gorgeous!
I want to fall madly in love with him. Fall into bed with him. Let him give me about a million more of his soft, amazing kisses.
But then I remember Vanessa’s words and my pledge: To think with my head and not my heart.
I look again. See it all differently.
And I know what it is.
A. Big. Elaborate. Seduction. Scene.
I can’t imagine a boy going to this much trouble for anything else. No wonder he got so many girls last year. I mean, who wouldn’t fall for this shit?
Well, except for me. Because I know what he’s trying to do.
All of a sudden, I feel disappointed.
Really disappointed.
“I don’t get it. I thought you wanted to dance with me? Or did you have a different kind of dancing in mind? If you want to have sex with me, at least be honest with me and tell me that’s all you want.”
He looks around, panic on his face. “That’s not all I want. Shit. It does kinda look like that. Crap. I’m sorry. Let me start over.”
He holds out his arms. “All this is not supposed to be seduction. This is supposed to be me creating a dance. I wanted to dance all twenty-nine dances with you alone. I even have a twenty-nine song playlist on my phone if you’re ready.” He grins. “They’re kinda all slow songs. I want to dance slow with you.”