Beau’s wry voice triggers a rush of horror mingled with the burn of embarrassment. I bury my face against Dean’s chest, too mortified to look over at the armchair.
“And now I’m hard as a rock,” Beau adds in a jaunty voice. “So I’m just gonna go ahead and ask—any chance of a threesome?”
My head lifts in indignation, but I can’t help but laugh when I see the intrigued gleam in Dean’s eyes.
“Don’t even think about it,” I order, jabbing my finger into his chest. I sit up to fix Beau with the same stern look. “Erase that idea from your pretty head, Maxwell. Because it’s not happening.”
His smile is downright saucy. “Tonight, or ever?”
“Ever.”
“Give me one good reason why not,” Beau challenges.
“Because a) I don’t want to, and b) picture this—it’s ten years from now. I’m a Hollywood A-lister, a three-time Academy Award winner, the most sought-after actress ever to grace the silver screen…and then the latest issue of People magazine hits the stands. And you know what the headline reads?” I move my hand through the air as if I’m spelling out the headline—“Celebrity debauchery exposed. Allie Hayes, college threesome queen.”
Beau spells out his own headline. “Super Bowl champ Beau Maxwell quoted as saying, ‘best night of my life.’”
I sigh and turn to Dean, who’s clearly trying not to laugh. “And now it’s time for bed. Say goodnight to your friend Beau, sweetie.”
“Good night, Beau,” Dean says obediently.
24
Allie
Dean and I arrive back at campus at noon the next day. Since the team bus leaves at one o’clock for their game in Burlington, he should be hightailing it out of the parking lot if he wants to go home and change first. But he stays rooted in the driver’s seat.
“What’s wrong?” I can’t decipher his expression.
“Can I see you tonight?” His voice is husky, and there’s an inexplicable chord of…something…in it.
“I have rehearsal, so it depends on when Steven lets us out. Call me when you’re back from Vermont and we’ll see where I’m at?”
He nods. Still doesn’t move.
“Do you mind helping me with my suitcase?”
Another nod.
I fight a pang of uneasiness as we get out of the car. There’s no one in the parking lot to see us unload my bag, but that isn’t what’s making me apprehensive. It’s the intensity Dean is radiating. It’s like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to broach the subject.
“Everything okay?” I ask lightly.
Those green eyes sweep over me so intently I feel self-conscious. I know my hair is a wavy mess, and I’m pretty sure there’s a tiny zit forming on my chin. I hope that’s not what he’s staring at.
“All good, baby doll,” he finally says, snapping out of whatever deep thoughts he’d been having. “C’mere and give me a good luck kiss. We desperately need to win this game today.”
My gaze flits around the lot. A slight frown touches Dean’s lips? and seeing it triggers a flash of guilt. We just spent three days together. We fooled around in front of Beau, for crying out loud, and I’m afraid to kiss him in an empty parking lot?
I bridge the distance and lean on my tiptoes to brush my lips over his. “Good luck,” I whisper. Then I slip him a little tongue and smile when his breath catches.
He groans softly. “Tease.”
My smile widens as I take a step back. “Thanks for the ride. And the night out.”
“And the dirty, dirty sex,” he reminds me.
“One dirty would’ve sufficed.” Except nope, I’m wrong. What we did this weekend requires at least two dirties. Four would probably be the right amount.
“You sure you can manage that thing?” he asks as I roll my overstuffed suitcase toward the path.
“I’m fine. It has wheels.”
“What about the stairs?”
“It’s fine,” I insist. “Go, Dean, otherwise you’ll miss your bus.”
Just as I give him a gentle shove to spur his sexy ass into gear, a familiar voice echoes behind us.
“Hey, Allie.”
My hand freezes against Dean’s chest. I quickly let it drop to my side, then turn around to greet the approaching figure. It’s Jim Paulson, one of Sean’s frat brothers. My nerves flutter in my belly as I wonder how much he heard. And saw…
Shit. Did he see me kiss Dean?
“Hi,” I say, forcing a smile. “How was your Thanksgiving?”
“It was all right.” Jim’s gaze flicks toward Dean. “Hey, man.”
“Hey,” Dean says tightly.
“Where are you guys coming from?” His unmistakably suspicious gaze lands on my suitcase.
“New York,” I answer casually. “Dean’s from Manhattan and I’m from Brooklyn, so we carpooled. Go, environment!” I pretend to wave a little flag, but Jim doesn’t even crack a smile.
“Cool.” He continues to study me. “Uh, so yeah…nice seeing you.”