Shameless Kisses: 3:AM Kisses 18 Page 6

  My fingers start pounding away at my screen. What’s this? A not-so-selfie? Are you asking strangers to take a picture of your waddle? You’re looking pretty constipated BTW. I shoot the text right back to her.

  Ha! I forgot to laugh. It’s from the Shark! He spotted me in the wild and was too shy to come up and say hello. Isn’t that sweet?

  Sweet? She’s kidding, right?

  Harley, this sounds dangerous.

  She texts right back. Please, I know for a fact he’s harmless.

  Harmless as a shark it appears.

  A memory from long ago bounces through my mind.

  “You stole her from me!” I roared, ready to blow a hole through the bastard’s skull. “You’re nothing but a damn shark hungry for whatever’s mine.”

  “I’m a shark? You’re delusional. And if I stole her, I was only swiping a page out of your book, sweetheart.”

  I can still feel my fist pummeling his jaw. So very satisfying even now a million years removed from that day.

  “He was a shark,” I say it under my breath.

  Rush, Lawson, and Knox grunt my way and I shake my head, assuring them it’s nothing.

  But it is very much something. Harley let me know he lived in Hollow Brook Hills. Coincidence? I think not.

  Holy hell. Could he be the Shark?

  If he is, I’m going to have to kill him.

  Heck, I might just do it anyway.

  Drunk on You

  Harley

  Fall in Hollow Brook hits hard like a brick wall of color erupting over the landscape all at once. The sun sets in swirls of pink and citrine as the sky fades into darkness and the air is perfumed with honeysuckle.

  It’s the night before the big game, classes are done for the week, and someone had the bright idea that on this, the first official night of fall, we head up to the overlook and watch the sunset. It’s a party atmosphere with way too many bodies, way too much illegal drinking, and, thankfully, enough sane people to make sure everyone here has a designated driver.

  It feels as if all of Whitney Briggs has taken over the mountain. The overlook itself is up a steep hillside a good half hour from campus if you go all the way up. I’ve always loved it here. There are numerous natural hot springs, including the infamous Witch’s Cauldron where couples from school have been known to hook up.

  “I don’t care how hot that water is. I don’t think it will ever be sanitary enough for me to get in,” I say to Colby and Teagan as we find a seat on a boulder.

  I know for a fact I won’t be running into my big sis tonight because she let me know Knox was taking her out to Jepson to some fancy Asian fusion restaurant. Truth be told, it sounded delicious, and a part of me wanted to crash their party. But I get that Knox and Harper want their alone time. They’re not just friends. They are definitely more than that. A part of me is a little envious of my sister’s love life. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have someone so in love with you the way Knox loves her.

  I thought I had that with Tyler. I was woefully wrong.

  Teagan reveals the contents from the oversized tote bag she’s been schlepping around. “And this, my friends, is the benefit of having a brother who owns a bar. I swiped them when no one was looking.”

  We peer inside to find an assortment of mini hard liquor bottles and a couple of cans of beer. The bar in question would be The Sloppy Pelican, which is situated in Hollow Brook’s less collegiate side of town.

  “Nicely done,” I’m quick to commend her. “I don’t really drink.”

  Colby balks, “Too bad because I drove, and that automatically makes me the DD. Go ahead and get as snockered as you want, but next time, you’re driving.”

  “Fine,” I say. “But only so Teagan doesn’t have to puke all by her lonesome.”

  “I won’t,” she assures me. “I can hold my liquor.” She wrinkles her nose. “But I’m sort of like you. I don’t really care for the stuff.”

  “So does this liquor heist fall under the when in Rome classification?” I ask as she hands me an adorable miniature bottle of peppermint schnapps.

  “Exactly. Plus, I wanted to say I did it, you know. I wanted to have one wild night in college.”

  Colby nods. “I concur. And tonight is your night. So drink up, girls,” she snarls it out, looking decidedly angry and bitter.

  “I have an idea,” I say, trying to hand her my mini bottle of courage. “I can drive your car back—”

  “Nope. My brother will freak if I let anyone else behind the wheel. He’s convinced bad things will happen and all his good luck will up and disappear. About a year ago, my grandfather left his fortune to my brother. My brother in turn shared it with my parents and me. But he’s a stickler for not rocking the boat in any way. But don’t feel bad for me. When we get back to the dorm, I’ll have a tiny bottle or two as a nightcap.”

  “Lovely,” I say as I take a sip of the schnapps and gag on cue. “Geez! It’s nail polish remover meets mouthwash.” I shudder as it rides down hot to my stomach.

  Teagan downs her tiny white opaque bottle in three angry gulps before shuddering and gagging herself.

  “See there?” I tease. “We’re having a good time already! So what are we chasing these puppies down with? Beer?”

  “You got that right.” Teagan cracks one open for the both of us. She takes a quick sip of her own and looks as if she’s about to puke before getting a tummy full of toxins. “I’ve always thought that beer tasted like skunks smelled.”

  “Wow, we are on a rollicking roll.” I knock back half of mine and feel the burn from the carbonation all the way down my throat. “I think I like this better. But just to be sure, maybe we should imbibe a few more of those tiny treats you’re stowing away?”

  And imbibe them we do.

  Colby eggs us on to down them and makes us compete with one another to see who can get down to the last drop first. Winner gets to choose the next poison. Teagan and I go round after round, and soon enough Colby takes away the bag.

  “If you witches keep this up, there won’t be enough to knock me out later.”

  Teagan lets out a hard groan. “My stomach hurts. I think we should take off our clothes and take a dip in the cauldron.”

  The rock beneath me bounces as if it were alive, and I giggle up a storm. “I degree!” I mean agree. And then I realize I didn’t say that last part out loud, and I laugh my ass off until I tumble and land facedown in the damp soil below. Both Teagan and Colby are laughing so hard they tumble to the ground beside me.

  Teagan’s dark, wiry hair lands over my eyes. “Off with her clothes!” she shouts, and before I know it, we’re down to our bras and underwear, crawling in the direction of the Witch’s Cauldron. We’re laughing so hard, we’re wheezing, and no matter how hard I try to hang on, the ground keeps spinning. I’m convinced I’m going to fly right off this earth.

  Bodies move all around us, stepping over us, as if we weren’t even here—worse yet, as if this were perfectly acceptable, and I have a feeling it is.

  I glance over to find Colby chatting with a group of guys. Teagan staggers up and pulls me to my feet as if she were lifting a sack of potatoes. I do my best to steady myself over her, my hand accidentally hanging onto the center of her bra, and without meaning to I unleash the girls.

  Teagan and I burst out laughing. We laugh so hard, the only sound coming out is that of air struggling to leave our lungs.

  “All right, that’s enough.”

  I turn to my right. Wow, Colby’s voice sounds so much deeper from up here. But it’s not Colby getting in my face and plucking me off Teagan. It’s Eli.

  “Ellie!” I press my lips together in an effort to stop the giggles, but it sounds as if my mouth is making a series of obscene noises instead. “I mean Ellie.” I hack out a dry laugh that makes it sound as if my voice box was malfunctioning at the misfiring of his name. “Ellis!” I try again, and I’m crying so hard, I can’t see anymore. The next thing I know, I’m in his a
rms and he spins us in another direction as my head lands to his chest, helpless against the centripetal force. “Hey!” I do my best to pound on his arms, but it’s futile. I’ve got the strength of a three-year-old, and, apparently, the vocabulary as well.

  Eli struts us off to a bench nearby, and I look over, struggling to see my friends.

  “Where’s them go?” I wince at the lunacy escaping my lips, and frown at the fact I seem wholly unable to stop it.

  “Theys went homes.” Eli props me up in his lap a bit, but my head refuses to lift from its extreme position of comfort. “Harley, you’re tanked. Colby, thank God is safe and sane, but Teagan puked on her shoes, so neither of them is all that happy right now.”

  “Oh no.” I look up, and the evergreens around us seem to turn upside down with the seemingly innocent motion. I take a deep breath and try my hardest to get my bearings. “I don’t really drink.” I try to touch my forehead and end up slapping myself instead.

  “That’s all right, Kitten. If I were you, I’d chalk it up to a learning experience.” He brushes the loose hair from my forehead.

  “Are you kidnapping me?” I’m not sure how those words came out the way they did. I meant to ask if he was taking me home.

  “Yes, I’m kidnapping you—under strict instructions from your partners in crime. Colby said she couldn’t handle two drunks. Her words, not mine. She asked if I could give you a ride.”

  “Thank you.” I look up at those big marbled eyes of his, and they hypnotize me. Eli hypnotizes me.

  “No problem. I’m just glad I was here to help. How are you feeling? Do you think you’ll be able to make it down the hill? There’s a drive-through that serves coffee about ten minutes away. You won’t have to get out of the car. And lucky for you, no clothes required.”

  “Oh, that.” I glance down and find my nipple staring at me as it peers over the edge of my pink lace bra. “Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” I make a feeble attempt at stuffing it back in and somehow manage to expose it all the more.

  “That’s right.” His lips blink a quick smile. “Colby mentioned something about taking your clothes back to the dorm.” He takes off his flannel, and the next thing I know I’m wearing it, surrounded in his warm cologne, looking up at those glowing eyes that have led so many girls astray.

  “Eli?”

  “What’s up, Kitten?”

  “I think I want you to kiss me.” I try to grasp his cheek, and my hand falls back against my chest.

  A dark rumble of a laugh bounces through him. “I’m sure you’d have a much different opinion if you were sober.”

  “Not true.”

  “Not up for negotiation either. The answer is no.”

  “Fine.” I bite my lower lip in the process of spitting out the word. I reach up and clasp him by the back of the neck. “Then I’ll do it myself.” I try my inebriated best to bring him down to me, but he resists. That crooked grin on his face lets me know he’s enjoying the resistance, too. “I’m going to kiss you. It’s the right thing to do when someone is so nice to you all the time.”

  His brows pinch in the middle. “The baristas at Hallowed Grounds are pretty nice. Do you kiss them?”

  “Maybe I will. But I think I should start right here—with you.” It takes every ounce of energy I’ve got to hoist myself up.

  My lids close slowly as I crash my lips to his, and I still see those glowing eyes of his long into this delicious kiss. Eli’s lips are full and soft, like pressing your mouth to a yummy pillow. I linger over him and moan as I take in the feel of his flesh against my own. The world spins ceaselessly around me. It feels as if I’m out to sea while the tide does its best to pull us apart, but I hang onto his neck for dear life as my lips press over his with a stark determination to have him kiss me back, and he does. Eli lets out a dark moan of his own, his mouth moving over mine in a warm and steady rhythm.

  “Harley”—he whispers my name right over my lips—“we should get back.”

  I look up at this beautiful man before me. “Don’t you like kissing me?” My voice breaks without my permission. It’s clear to me now what effects alcohol has on my rational thinking. It pulls out all the stops and makes me stupid.

  Eli winces as if he were in pain. “Yes, I do.” He hitches a wild lock of hair behind my ear, and I can see him unobstructed. “I think I like it too much.”

  “You say it like it’s a problem.”

  “The problem is that you’re drunk and I’m sober.”

  “I’m sober,” I lie through my teeth, but strangely I think I mean it. “How about you and I head into the Witch’s Cauldron? I hear interesting things happen in there when you go in with someone you like to kiss.” I try to run my finger over his lips and inadvertently pick his nose.

  He gently removes my hand, and a wry laugh pumps from him. “We’re not going into the Witch’s Cauldron tonight. There are about thirty people crammed in that sex hole at the moment. I think this is a perfect time for me to get you home.”

  He picks me up and trots us off to his car. Eli buckles me in, and soon enough we’re racing down the mountain.

  I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I know, Eli Gates is laying me in my bed as he presses a soft kiss to my forehead.

  “Sleep tight, Kitten. Try not to puke.”

  He heads out, and I blissfully do just that.

  All night I dream of Eli and those pillow soft lips.

  Eli

  “You kissed her?”

  Rush looks as if I’ve freshly offended him with the impromptu confession.

  “Nope. She kissed me. I guess you can say it wasn’t consensual.” A flicker of a grin comes and goes as we hoist the last of my meager furniture into the rental I managed to procure in a week’s time. It turns out, the owner likes me, he liked my credit, and he liked the all cash deposit—first, last, and security all upfront. I’m off the Row for good and just a hop and a skip from Rush and Lawson.

  Rush grunts as we land on the small sofa he gave me this afternoon. It’s green, not its original color—I believe that was a sky blue. It reeks of beer and nachos and has already proven to be a virtual piñata when it comes to loose change and condoms.

  “Dude”—we set it down in the amply-sized living room, and he takes a moment to wipe down his brow—“you liked it, and you know it. And you don’t need to bother covering with me. You’re guilty. I can see it on your face.”

  “You’d make a lousy attorney. You coming to the game tonight?”

  “Darn right. You’d better pull off another win. We’re on a streak, and we don’t need you to break it.”

  “As if that were possible.”

  Rush heads to the fridge and tosses a water bottle my way. “Tonight’s the night, my man. You get the W, pick up a babe at the Black Bear, and break in this place the right way.”

  My gut wrenches at the thought. “I don’t think so. The W, that’s a given. I’ll drop by the Black Bear, grab a burger, but no girl. I’ve got a flight in the morning.”

  “Babysitting in the Big Apple part two?”

  “Part three.”

  “So are you staying with your aunt or what?”

  “I’m staying at the Howard. Harley and I share a room, and before you say a single word, we’ve got separate beds.”

  “Separate beds?” Rush heads over. That look on his face lets me know he’s not buying it. “I give it a month before you figure out there’s a spare bed in the room.”

  “Not happening.”

  He flips the sofa cushion and reveals a crap load of condoms still neatly in their wrappers.

  “Don’t ever say I didn’t give you anything, sweetheart.” He takes off for the door. “The game is yours, dude. Don’t give it away.” He turns my way. “And Eli? Don’t give the girl away either.”

  He takes off, and I stare at those foil packages as if they offended me. Ever since I bumped into Harley that night at the Black Bear, I’ve entered into the longest
dry spell of my adult life.

  I’d better hit the shower and get back to the field. I might just steal a little relief while I’m at it.

  And as much as I hate it, I know I’ll think of Harley the entire time.

  * * *

  There is nothing like Friday nights spent on the field, fighting for the WB Mustangs, donning the orange and royal blue uniforms. This is my last year to play. Last year on the field. Last year with my feet running wild on the green.

  The air is chilled, the scent of kettle corn and hot dogs permeates the air, and the floodlights are shooting out their mega wattage full strength. It’s blinding looking into the crowd, but during the end of the first quarter, I scan the student section for Harley and her friends and, sure enough, I find them, third row up. Each girl has the head of a mustang painted onto her left cheek, the other side inscribed with an oversized WBU. Harley is staring right at me, smacking her friends to point out the fact I’m staring right back.

  I lift my hand in the air and scan the crowd around them as a security measure. There is a very real reason I was at the overlook the other night. Whoever this Shark idiot is that’s haunting Harley is most likely dangerous. That picture he took of her backside let me know he was far too close for comfort. He was within touching distance, striking distance, and he was letting her know it. Of course, Harley thinks it’s cute. Adorable even.

  But the other night when I put Shark and Hollow Brook Hills together, it shook me to my core.

  Could it be? Hell, I’m afraid the answer to that is yes. If I’m right, Shark Boy is far more dangerous than I think.

  Coach blows the whistle, and I head back to the huddle. We take the lead at halftime, and instead of heading to the locker room, I make a beeline for the stands again. Just as I’m about to head over and say hello to Harley, I notice some random guy in a dark coat, familiar dark hair, familiar frame standing a few feet from her. She’s facing the opposite way, and he’s got his camera out, lens pointed in her direction.