The Impact of You
Page 6

“Avery 2.0. Nice.” Noah nods.
Madison’s head whips in my direction. “What do you mean you’ve been hanging out with Jase-the-manwhore-Owens?” Of course that’s the piece of information she zones in on. She adds a few more gold chains to her outfit. “Girls don’t just hang out with him. If said hanging out involves getting in a good mattress workout, then yeah…” She waves her hand in my general direction. “But this…not so much.”
“God. Madison, those romance novels have corrupted your brain. Guys and girls can just hang out.”
Her eyebrows dart toward the ceiling. “So he hasn’t tried anything?”
I shake my head. “Nope.” Is that so strange?
“Nothing? Not even like accidently brushing your boob with his arm?”
“No Madison. And I don’t want a guy whose sole mission is to get in my panties. That’s not a turn on.”
She looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Then what is a turn on for you?”
Intelligent conversation, healthy debates…those are the things sure to kick start my libido, if my time with Jase is any indication. “A guy trying to get into my brain,” I return.
She laughs. “So the question is…who’s occupying space in that brain of yours?”
Good question indeed. I remain quiet, unwilling to acknowledge, even to myself, that my friendship with Jase might be a bit unconventional. That I might want a tiny bit more. Of all the guys to be interested in…Dumb, Avery, I silently curse myself.
“Noah, seriously…help me out here?” Madison pleads.
He shakes his head. “Sorry, babe. It’s true. You’re in uncharted territory here. Jase isn’t exactly known for keeping his dick in his pants this long.”
They’re ridiculous. I’ve hung out with Jase a handful of times – one of them in a classroom. Do they really think he just whips it out whenever, wherever? And why does the thought of him handling himself make my stomach do a little flip? Sheesh. I need to pull myself together if I’m supposed to face Jase in this…outfit. Who am I kidding? Outfit is too generous a term for this. A few scraps of fabric covering the important bits do not constitute an outfit. Yet, I dutifully slip into the heels Madison has supplied and teeter out the door after my friends.
Lord help me. I’m going to fall on my ass. And then my ass will fall out of my pants. Disaster city.
When we reach the party, the line to get inside wraps around the side of the house, and I see that my outfit isn’t so outlandish after all. It’s like each girl took it upon herself to reveal her inner slut tonight. It’s disheartening, but since I have no room to talk, I huff my exposed ass up the front walkway and wait at the door to be let in. Unlike the last time, there’s a bouncer manning the door. I recognize him as Jase’s friend Trey, but considering he’s only looking at my chest, I doubt he recognizes me. He steps aside to let me and Madison inside, but stops Noah at the threshold. “Whoa bud. Sorry. You’re not getting in.”
Noah’s outfit is certainly untraditional, but Trey isn’t budging, not even as Madison launches in to a tirade about sexism and equal rights. Good Lord.
“Hey, I don’t make the rules; I just enforce them.” Trey smiles at Madison. “Hot chicks only.”
I remember Jase punching his number into my phone at the coffee shop and fish it from the tiny handbag Madison secured to my wrist. “Guys, let me call Jase. He’ll get us in.” The fact that I have his phone number earns me another suspicious glare from Madison.
I step to the far end of the porch, distancing myself from the dull-roar coming from inside. It rings several times and just as I’m about to hang up, Jase answers.
“Whistle? Is that you?”
I ignore the idiotic nickname. “Yeah, it’s Avery. We’re here, but we can’t get in.”
“Shit. I’m in the back removing a couple of over-drunk assholes. Don’t leave. I’ll be right there.”
Seconds later, Jase appears at the door just long enough to exchange a few terse words with Trey. Trey barks something back in response, and Jase’s eyes flash to Noah. Ever the drama queen, Noah cocks a hand on his hip, daring them to comment on his outfit, or lack thereof.
“Whatever, just let them in,” Jase says, then turns to me. “Find me later,” he calls before disappearing back through the sea of bodies.
* * *
It’s been fifty-four minutes since I last saw Jase. I hate that I know that. I hate how aware I’ve become of his presence in a matter of a few short days. I nurse a cup of beer, mostly to keep Madison and Noah off my back, and stand with them in the crowded living room. My ass has been grabbed at least half a dozen times and beer spilled down the front of my corset twice. I want to leave. But first I want to see Jase again. Traitorous body.
The music’s too loud for real conversation, so I sway next to Madison, trying to ignore the way these heels pinch my feet. Who needs all ten toes anyway?
I feel Madison’s sudden tug on my hand. “Jase’s looking at you like he wants to taste your sweet honey.”
I nearly spit out my drink and break into a coughing fit, sputtering and gasping for air. “God, Madison.”
But when my eyes find his, holy shit, it’s like all the air’s been sucked from the room. Jase looks incredibly sexy in his black tailored suit and he’s looking at me. Just me. In a crowded room full of people – more than half of which are beautiful sorority girls, wearing next to nothing, clamoring for his attention.
Jase’s hot gaze slips from mine, down my chest, caressing my hips, my bare thighs, taking in my sky-high black heels before slowly gliding up to meet my eyes once again. My heart jumps inside my chest, breaking into an all-out sprint, as I realize he makes no apology about checking me out.
I’m suddenly thankful for Madison’s intervention and making me wear this outfit, and offer up a silent prayer of gratitude for Victoria’s Secret and the corset hoisting the girls up for display. I’ve never felt so wanted in my entire life. So beautiful and desirable.
Noah leans closer. “Damn, he looks like he’s going to eat you alive. Go talk to him.” He gives me a gentle shove in Jase’s direction and I stumble on shaky legs across the room.
Silently, I curse my friends as I make my way through the crowd. I thought they were anti-Jase, but now they’re plotting to bring us together. And though I’ve wanted to see him since I first got here, now I suddenly need a minute. It was sweet of him to make sure we got into the party okay, and I realize I should thank him. I think I like his sweet side. But when I finally stop in front of him, sweet Jase is nowhere to be found. His gaze is deep and penetrating, and I can’t help but think he looks angry about something. Really angry.
“Jase?” I question, my mouth suddenly dry.
“Come with me.” He interlaces our fingers and tugs me toward the stairs. We fight our way through the crowd with Jase leading the way. He keeps my hand tightly locked in his until we reach the door to the stairwell. He produces a set of keys, unlocks it, then guides me up, keeping his hand at the small of my back as I ascend the stairs in front of him.
What the heck is wrong with him? I came to his stupid party, even dressed the part. Why does he look like someone murdered his puppy? He doesn’t say a word, but his firm hand curls around my hip as he guides me toward the attic.
When we reach his bedroom, he firmly closes the door behind us, before slowly turning to face me. His deep blue eyes radiate intensity, and his expression is nothing like the relaxed, friendly look I’m used to. My blood pumps wildly in my chest, my pulse keeping pace with the beat of the music I can hear faintly from downstairs.
He strips his jacket from his shoulders, and tosses it on a chair beside the door before yanking the knot of his black tie to loosen it, then works on his shirtsleeves. His once crisp white shirt is now undone at the neck and rolled to his elbows. I stand there, feeling over-exposed and confused.
He stalks toward me, caging me in against the wall, his hands resting near my head. I can see the veins in his forearms straining against the skin, and his hands are curled into fists.
“Jase?”
“I was afraid of this.” His voice is low, rough.
“W-what?” I stumble over the simple word with him so close. I can feel his warm breath on my lips, his body heat, and the raw sexiness oozing off him.
“Avery, look at you.” His eyes lower, sending me into a full-body blush.
“What?” It’s apparently the only word in my vocabulary.
He meets my eyes and his expression softens, the anger I sensed earlier giving way to something else entirely. “You’re stunning. So lovely.” His hand cups my jaw and his thumb softly brushes against my skin. “You look amazing in jeans and a T-shirt. In this, you look downright sinful.”
“Jase…” I whimper.
“You’re going to kill me with that outfit, doll.”
I look down at myself and frown. “I’m sorry…” I tug at the shorts again, as if sheer will make them longer.
“Fuck, babe. Don’t be sorry.” Jase’s eyes search mine, asking for what, I don’t know.
But he can have it. Anything he wants.
God, I hate myself.
His hand leaves my jaw only to trail down my throat with gentle pressure. The simple contact steals my breath and desire races through my system. Jase is making me feel things I swore I wouldn’t. Shouldn’t. Can’t.
“Where have you been hiding these beauties?” His fingertip glides along the tops of my breasts, brushing along the edge of the lace.
Apparently Jase has discovered my boobs. “Boobs are icky,” I blurt. Kill me now.
His mouth twitches at my comment. “I disagree. There’s nothing icky about you, babe.” His voice is thick and I’m wondering where the hell cool, confident Jase has gone because the guy in front of me is all nerves and intensity.
His hand slides down my spine, pulling me closer. My body responds as if saying, yes I’m yours. My chin turns up, my tongue dampens my lips, and my pelvis tilts toward his all in a heartbeat’s time. Jase’s head drops so our lips are aligned, but he doesn’t go any farther. His breathing is shallow, too fast, much like mine.
Chapter 9
Jase
I need get my control back before I do something stupid and try to kiss her. If I do that, I won’t be able to stop. Turning away, I adjust myself in the suit pants. “I got you something today.”
“You did?” I hear the smile in her voice, and I’m at least grateful that things aren’t weird between us now. She follows me across the room to my dresser. I pull open the top drawer, then point to the bed. “Sit.”
She does.
“And close your eyes.”
Her lips curl into a smile and her eyes drop closed. She makes a grabby motion with her hands. “Gimme.”
I chuckle and place the small object in her palm and with her eyes still closed, her fingers explore. “A whistle.”
She smiles up at me and the urge to kiss her is so strong, I take a step back. “If you need anything, you just blow that, and I’ll come find you.”
Her expression gets soft and she grips the whistle in her hand. “Where were you when I was in high school?” she asks, her voice just above a whisper. She looks down at the silver whistle in her hands and I can tell her thoughts are far away.
What happened to turn her into this sad, broken girl? Not kissing her was the right move. “Trust me, you wouldn’t have liked me then.”
The air hangs heavily around us, the music faintly audible from the party below, and Avery remains sitting in the center of my bed. But since I know I can’t kiss her, I need to get my thoughts back on track.
I loop the red string over her head so the whistle rests between her breasts. “Should we go back downstairs?”
She gives me a tight nod.
Avery
“What’s with the whistle?” Madison asks once I re-join her and Noah in the living room.
“Don’t ask.” It makes no sense, even to me, and I know it would make even less sense to someone else. It’s Jase’s way of showing me he’s looking out for me. Even if it is ridiculous.
When I finally spot him again, he’s standing across the living room with Stacia. Ugh. She’s in a figure-hugging red cocktail dress and they’re in what appears to be in an intense conversation. Their faces are just inches apart; her hand rests on his forearm and he’s bent down speaking near her ear, his voice low and controlled.
She looks up at him, bites her lip and nods. Are they making a plan to meet up later? I want to blow the damn whistle and call interference so bad my entire body is shaking. I want to see if Jase will really come running to me. But I do no such thing. I just stand there, numb, watching their way too comfortable interaction. Her body angles toward his, and his hand brushes her lower back. They look very familiar together.
When she sees me, a practiced smile graces her features. When Jase notices what caught her attention – me gaping at them – he quickly pulls her by the arm around the corner.
Whoa.
What the hell was that and why do I feel the need to punch something? We’re just friends, I remind myself. He can talk to whomever he wants.
Noah is dancing with a group of sorority girls, and deciding he won’t miss us, I drag Madison into the kitchen. “I need something to drink.” I lift my cup so she understands over the music.
She nods happily and follows me. I need something stronger than beer tonight. I don’t know if it’s this stupid outfit that soo isn’t me, or the fact that I just saw Jase go off with Stacia, but my hands are shaking.
It’s not like he’s mine. Who he goes off with should be none of my concern.
Jase ventures into the kitchen, alone this time, and watches me and Madison wait at the counter while one of his frat brothers pours us each a shot. I lift the glass to my lips and drop my head back, letting the liquor burn a path down my throat. Why isn’t he with Stacia?