Boarding with the Bad Boy [COMPLETE + BONUS published edition]

THE BOARDERS: 27

Lo

I can't focus on anything going on around me. My interaction with Sam has raised my hackles and while I'm pissed, I'm also something else—and I'm not particularly proud of the latter.

"I'm going to head home," I tell Jill. She looks at me in surprise.

"To my place?"

"Mine." I bite back a laugh as Jill's eyebrows skyrocket almost to her hairline.

"Yours?"

I grin, a little sheepish. "For some reason, I'm kind of craving MacMillan," I admit.

Jill blanches. "Did you fall and hit your head when you went to get those beers?"

This time I do laugh. "No."

"Follow my finger." She drifts it in front of my face, gazing hard into my eyes as if checking for a concussion. The effect is ruined slightly when she stumbles sideways in her buzz. I catch her and hold her shoulders.

"I'm fine, I promise. Just taking your advice. Besides, I have a feeling my roommate's going to be busy for a while yet." I jut my chin toward Sam, who's leaned against the wall where I left him, Molly Jordan whispering something in his ear. His tongue darts out to his lip ring. My stomach suddenly aches.

"That mother—" Jill moves as if to march in Sam's direction, but I've still got her shoulder and I hold her in place.

"Cool it. He can do what he wants; he doesn't owe me anything. And vice versa."

Jill nods slowly. "Okay. I guess. Just...text me if you want me to come up there, or if you change your mind and decide to come over, all right?"

Given the way Jill and the guy from the dancefloor—I've since learned his name is Justin—have been all over each other since the Welcome Party, I don't expect she'll be making it home tonight, but I nod gamely.

"Love you," I tell her.

"Love you more. Be safe."

I flash her a thumbs up before catching Spencer for a hug goodbye and slipping into the living room, winding through people shouting over the music on my way to the front door.

"Lo!" Jared grins brightly from his position manning the keg, reaching a hand toward me.

"Sorry, Jared. I just have to—" I gesture vaguely, continuing without finishing the sentence. I don't want to risk Sam seeing me and coming in for another chat. He'd pretty quickly disappeared from his post with Molly and I guess, if I'm being honest with myself, I'm equally scared I'll find them tangled in each other on a couch or something. I duck past the crowd hanging out on the porch and take the stairs two at a time, making my way into the considerably cooler, lighter air outside the party.

MacMillan is silent when I arrive, and I close the heavy wooden door to my room with gratitude, pressing my back against it and sliding down until I'm sitting on the floor. Sure, I was a little drunk when Sam approached me earlier, but there's nothing strong enough to dull the thrumming in my chest now. I'm embarrassed by it—horrified a little—but I think I've missed battling with Sam the past few days. I'd known that, to a point, but hadn't realized just how much I craved our interaction until we were having one, both our energies heightened. I wonder if he can feel the air cracking around us the same way I can when we argue. And when he touched me...Jesus.

Eventually, I stand and unzip my jeans, shimmying out of them at the same time I pull my tank top over my head. In just a bra and underwear, I cross to the mirror, appraising myself. I think of Sam's teeth sinking over that stupid ring and my stomach tightens. I run a hand over it toward my underwear. Even though I'm alone, it feels too intimate—I'm vulnerable and nervous. Sam may have left me burning, but there's nothing I'm prepared to do about it. Particularly when I know he could open the door at any moment. Thinking of that, I grab a pair of thin cotton shorts and a t-shirt from my dresser, pulling both on and feeling mildly better once I do.