TRAGICALLY BROKEN: The Broken Series (Damaged, Book 1) (RE-IMAGINED & EXTENDED)

FIVE

GAVIN

I'm surrounded by groupies sticking their cleavage in my face, pressing against me, trying to get my attention. It's a pleasant perk of being UCLA's star quarterback, a position I claimed early in my time here.

Eagerly, their hands stroke and knead my shoulders, tenderizing me like I'm a piece of meat. I know I should say that I hate the way they sexualize me. But if I'm being honest, it's a small sacrifice I'm willing to make if they keep distracting me from my head—or at least the one where my thoughts are too heavy to lift.

I catch sight of a blinding smile from across the room, and I'm unable to look away. Ignoring everyone, I focus my energy on the brunette parting the crowd as she moves to find an opening for her and her friends. The lights reflecting off her dark caramel-coloured hair create a silky sheen as it cascades down the middle of her back in large curls—each one bouncing as she moves. It's almost mesmerizing.

Before she can find a place on the dance floor, a guy pulls her aside and grinds behind her. He's getting too touchy for my liking, and she doesn't look happy about it either. Her blinding smile drops immediately.

Needing it like I need the sun, I unconsciously shift to get involved. But the motion gets cut short when a new guy strides toward her. His entire demeanour reeks possessively of someone close to her.

Does she know him? Is he her boyfriend?

The muscles in my neck tighten with unwarranted jealousy.

With the help of another guy who has his back, he actively scares the asshole away. It's almost comical how he runs away with his tail between his legs. Though I'm sure with the liquor flowing through everyone's veins, he'll find someone to lick his wounds soon enough. Hopefully, with a newfound knowledge to not go in swinging when he's clearly outside of his league.

The crowd temporarily parts, and my thoughts rapidly head toward inappropriate. She is a goddess from head to toe. From her C-cup down her long, five-foot ten-ish frame, she has curves in all the right places. Unable to look away, I watch with morbid curiosity as the possible boyfriend leans in next to her ear, bringing back that beautiful smile that caught my attention earlier. His hands find the divot of her waist, and her arms wrap around his shoulders. And at that moment, I wish I was this lucky bastard pressed against that curvy body.

The lighthearted banter between them gets heavier, dropping a lead weight in my gut.

I know I should divert my attention to not be so voyeuristic. I should pay attention to the tall, size four blonde on my lap—the one I already have one foot out the door with. That I should test out the flexibility she's so famously known for. But I can't. Look. Away.

I give all my attention to the brunette charming me with her hips, swaying to the music.

A shiver rolls over her, and her eyes scan the room.

She can feel me watching her.

I stare with fascination until her piercing grey eyes catch mine. And when they do, all air gets suctioned out of the room, and I struggle to breathe.

But I refuse to look away.

Clinging to her stare, I ignore the people moving around me, trying to get my attention. Shifting left and right, I attempt to keep our eyes locked. I'm scared that if I lose the tether, she'll slip away, and I'll be left alone with the senseless banter of the same opportunists I'm always left with.

I want this girl to know I noticed her. First, though, I need to see if my hunch was right. If she returns her attention to Abercrombie, then I know there's a label on their relationship, or at the very least, she's committed. I'll know I need to shift my attention elsewhere. If she doesn't? Then there's nothing stopping me from walking up to her and expressing my interest.

She turns away, blushing. But she finds me again, making my heart pound with excitement and a feeling I can only describe as "relief"—two things I haven't felt in a very long time.

A train of dancers crosses our path, breaking my hold, and I frantically search her out, cursing the interruption until her eyes find me again. When they do, a calm flows over me, and the panic I felt only moments ago releases in a sharp exhale.

"Are you ready to go play Show and Tell?" The sultry whisper ghosts the sensitive skin below my ear just before the mouth that delivered it nibbles on the lobe.

The owner is my team's head cheerleader. She has a small waist, perky breasts—a solid nine on most days. Always at the top of her class, she's known to be an overachiever in everything she does. And by the activities she's purring in my ear, she's gunning for extra credit. But it's no longer her that I want, and she needs to tone it down before this girl gets the wrong idea.

"I changed my mind. I'm not feeling it anymore."

Twisting her hips, she gives me a sample, not-so-subtly brushing parts of me she just vividly described exploring. "How about now?" She runs a fingernail down my chest as she drags her teeth down the side of my neck. I groan, and my head unconsciously tips back and to the side, exposing the column. My eyes almost roll back inside my head from how good it feels. Still, I fight the sensations trying to distract me. With hooded eyes, I find the girl again.

God, she's beautiful.

I can't help the smile that tugs at my mouth, but she looks away.

"It's not happening," I say more firmly, grabbing her by the waist and easily lifting her off of me. Ignoring her sulking, I lean closer on my forearms to block her advances and get a better look at the one who really interests me.

I follow the smooth lines of her heart-shaped face and tiny bud nose, then follow the trail down to her full, pouty lips.

I silently will her to find me again.

Why the hell does she affect me so much?

I don't have time to dwell on the foreign notion because she's just spun around, leaving me gaping at her hurried exit.