Looking to Score(59)

“Someone posted on Instagram that a University of Texas player was seen kissing a girl outside the party,” Kyle explained, his voice quivering from fear. “I told him not to go. I’m going to get in so much trouble.”

“Yeah, you are,” I grumbled. “I’ll be back. And please, for the love of ice cream, make sure no one else does something stupid. I will personally end anyone who so much as thinks about leaving this hotel.” I stepped forward and slammed the door shut.

Oakley let out a sigh and started looking for his clothes. “How far of a drive is it?”

“I’ll order an Uber. It’ll probably take thirty minutes,” I replied.

“Great. Let’s go.”

My brows shot up in surprise. “You’re not going,” I insisted. “You can’t be seen at a USC party, Oakley.”

“And you can’t waltz into that party alone. Dale is probably drunk off his ass, and I don’t trust anyone not to fuck with you. I know you’re nervous to be back here. You don’t have to do this alone, Amanda.”

“I—”

“Stop arguing. The longer we wait, the more opportunities Dale has to fuck up. Let’s bring him back before the coach finds out, okay?”

I let out a sigh. As a publicist, I knew that Oakley needed to keep his fine ass in this hotel room. But as a girl about to face the horrors of her past...I just needed his support.

“Please don’t let anyone take photos of you,” I relented.

Oakley wrapped me up in a quick hug. “We got this, Darlin’.”

“Oh, we’re doing cute pet names now, huh?” I replied with a sniffle. The anxiety coursing through me was intense. I couldn’t stop shaking.

“Just testing it out,” Oakley answered with a sly smile. “Let’s do this thing, Sweetie. Schnookums. Dear. Sweet Pea. Love.”

That last nickname made me preen.

“Let’s go, Mr. Snuggles.”





26





The atmosphere screamed frat house. It was packed with guys wearing USC shirts and girls wearing as little as they could get away with. Sweaty bodies were pressed against each other, dancing to music that was far too loud. Cheap beer flowed freely, and bad decisions were being fueled by it. I didn’t think I would ever set foot in here again.

I was going to eviscerate Dale when I found him.

Thankfully, nobody had noticed the steamy hunk of perfection that was my boyfriend yet. Even just thinking the word boyfriend made me feel giddy, like a thirteen-year-old girl practicing writing her name with her crush’s last name.

I laced my fingers through Oakley’s for some much needed support and gave his hand a squeeze. It was too loud to hear myself think, let alone hear each other, so we searched without talking. I relied on Oakley’s height to see above the crowd, and I shoved through people to make room to get by them.

As I was working my way toward the other side of the house, where the music wasn’t as loud, someone turned around and ran into me, spilling beer all down the front of my shirt. Ugh, great. I was going to spend the next few hours smelling like lite beer.

“Amanda? Amanda Matthews?” the person I had bumped into squealed in my direction.

Oh God. Oh God Oh God Oh God. I had been so focused on finding Dale that I had momentarily forgotten where I was and who I was surrounded by. I had just run into Legacy Small, former sorority sister and best-friend-forever-turned-mean-girl.

Legacy was a perfect ten. She had the figure of a model, flawlessly applied makeup, and tan skin she achieved from hours of sunbathing on the beach. Her dark brown hair was always shiny and perfectly styled. She had been my roommate in the sorority house and spent Christmas with my family sophomore year. Legacy had also been the one to film me streaking on the Dean’s lawn, and then she texted it to everyone she knew.

“Legacy,” I said coolly.

She not so subtly checked Oakley out, giving him lingering sex eyes. She tore her gaze away long enough to shout to a gaggle of my former sorority sisters that I was here. Fuck. Everybody heard her. Legacy had one of those voices that just carried, even over loud ass music.

“Chuck!” she screamed over the music. “Come here! Look who it is!”

Oh fuck. I squeezed Oakley’s arm harder. “Sorry, we don’t have time. We’re looking for someone,” I stammered as Chuck made the crowd part like Moses and headed over to us. I used to have a crush on Chuck. He’d let me shamelessly dance on him at parties, and it wasn’t until the video of me leaked that I learned I was the butt of his jokes the entire time I’d known him. He wrapped his arm around Legacy and looked me up and down like a predator, smacking his lips as if I was a tasty treat. Oakley stiffened at my side.

“Who are you?” he asked in a sultry tone. Did he seriously not recognize me? Figured.

“It’s Amanda Matthews, silly! I almost didn’t recognize her myself,” Legacy replied, playfully slapping his chest.

Chuck’s eyes widened as recognition flashed across his features. I wanted nothing more than to run away and pretend I’d never been here. Oakley looked like he wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.

“No shit? Amanda Matthews! You look good!” He laughed, eyeing me up and down.

“We really need to leave,” Oakley interrupted while tugging on my hand. Legacy reached out and grabbed my other hand, stopping me from leaving.