“Here we go,”Aubrey sighed. “Enter the arch of ass**les on your way into the world’s most lamest Homecoming dance.”
Yet I was grinning while suppressing a girly squeal. Aubrey took all of this for granted but I’d never expected to have any of it, so for me it was everything I’d ever wanted. With poorly hung blue streamers wrapped around the front porch posts to cap it off. The guys started chanting some fraternity call as we walked under their arms and even though Aubrey rolled her eyes, I thought she secretly liked the catcalls and compliments they tossed our way.
“Wowsa!”
“Holla, sexy!”
One guy mimicked “call me” with his fingers by his face before winking.
I gave him a nod of acknowledgement and paused to take a pic with my friend Jay who yanked me out of the middle for a second, phone in hand.
After Jay let me go and I readjusted my purse under my arm, I stopped walking, goose bumps racing up my legs and across my exposed cle**age. It felt like someone was staring at me, that sensation when eyes drag across you longer than is appropriate.
Which was stupid. Of course someone was staring at me. Lots of guys were staring at me. It was the whole point.
Duh, Caitlyn.
Giving myself a mental eye roll, I started to search the remaining line for Ethan.
And instead my eyes landed on the back of a dark head, disappearing into the house, a shiver jiggling my shoulders unexpectedly. Walking on my grave. That’s what my father would say. Which never made a damn bit of sense to me, since I wasn’t dead and didn’t have a grave, but I always just took it to mean it was an ominous sign when you felt it.
“Who is that?” I asked Aubrey, looping my hand through her arm so I could lean in and talk to her.
“Who is who?”
“That guy who just went into the house.” He had seemed familiar. I must know him. I knew most of the Gamma guys.
She glanced up. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Never mind.” It was just a guy. It was clearly bothering me only because I hadn’t recognized him on sight, but how many guys did I recognize from a ten second glimpse at the back of their freaking head? It was stupid. Half the guys on campus had the same short, spiky haircut. Plus they were all wearing suits, so of course they looked nearly identical. It was like trying to pick out one penguin from another.
Before I could say anything further though, Ethan stepped out from the line, suddenly appearing in front of me, a smile on his face. “Hey, Caitlyn.” He had one hand in his pocket. “You look beautiful,” he said, his eyes filled with lust and admiration.
“Thanks.” Sometimes when I was with Ethan, I wasn’t sure what he saw when he looked at me. But I wasn’t stupid enough to ask. I just enjoyed it. “You look sexy.” I reached out and put my hands on his lapels.
His eyebrows rose but he laughed as his hand fell out of his pocket and onto the back of my waist. “Thanks.” He leaned in and kissed my temple, his warm breath teasing at my eyelashes. “I feel like the luckiest guy here tonight.”
He had light blue eyes, the color of the ocean in Mexico, not the ocean here in Maine. At home on the coast our water was dark and stormy, nearly black. There was nothing dark about Ethan. He had light hair, light eyes, a light personality. Those eyes were sparkling as he firmly took one of my hands, turned us toward the house, and lifted a flask to his mouth with the other. “Sip?”
“I’m underage,” I said, teasingly, knowing he didn’t care.
“You’re old enough.”
I took a swallow. He was twenty-two already, perfectly legal. Perfectly gorgeous. As the whiskey ran down my throat and settled into my limbs and between my thighs, I felt grateful that Ethan had been capable of drawing out desire from me. No one had been able to before. Not since Heath. I’d started to think no one ever would be able to again. Yet Ethan had, slowly, steadily, one kiss, one touch at a time, until finally I had been ready and willing to have sex with him.
He turned back to his sister. “You look pretty, Aubrey. I like the dress.”
“Thanks.” She was giving Colton a grimace.
The poor guy towered over her by about a foot and a half and he kept bending over to talk to her, at one point knocking her purse out of her hand. “Shit, sorry,” he murmured.
I gave her a look to indicate she should go easy on him, but then I was distracted by Ethan saying, “Smile.”
“What?” I turned and realized he wanted to pose in front of the frat house. I smiled for the camera, his arm outstretched to hold his phone. “Don’t you want someone else to take a picture for you? So we can pose better?”
But he shrugged. “We can do that later.”
Walking into the house was like having the red sea part for Moses.
Everyone moved out of his way. Everyone greeted him with a smile.
Ethan was the It Guy. He was a senior, pre-law, an excellent student, with a solid plan for his future in mind. He played soccer, ran the fraternity, and volunteered as a tutor. Everyone knew that he was going places and almost more importantly, he was a good guy, a standup friend and never an ass**le.
As a boyfriend, he was equally awesome. On time and considerate, he gave me compliments and paid for everything. There was literally nothing wrong with him.
I was proud to be on his arm. I was proud of him.
The music was pumping and because he knew I liked to dance, he put my coat in the makeshift coatroom off the foyer and led me to the dance floor in the main room. Couples were already grinding on each other and flailing around. Dancing was probably the one thing Ethan wasn’t so hot at. But he knew it and still tried anyway and had a sense of humor about it. Mostly his dancing involved spinning me in circles or pulling me against him at random intervals.
Our rhythm was always off with each other and we couldn’t even seem to grind properly. Instead of winding up between his legs dirty dancing I kept bouncing off his chest. “This isn’t working!” I said loudly over the music, laughing.
“I suck, I’m sorry.” He leaned over and gave me a kiss. “Want something to drink? You dance, I’ll forage.”
“That would be awesome, thanks.”
He lingered briefly, giving me a serious look, one that made my insides melt.
“I love you,” he murmured.
My heart swelled in appreciation the way it always did when he shared his feelings. “I love you, too.”
He squeezed my hand and left, and I joined a group of girls who were dancing together, jumping up and down.