The Hardest Fall(79)

Chapter Eighteen





Dylan





When I stepped through the frat house’s open door around ten PM, there were already red Solo cups littering the ground and the air reeked of sweat, beer, and the worst mix of perfumes—the staples of college parties. Just a few steps in and I could already see the closely pressed bodies on the dance floor. I pushed past the few people who were standing around the door, casually chatting by screaming at each other over the music, and started to look around. Skipping the dance floor, I searched every inch of the house, including the upstairs rooms. Zoe was nowhere to be found, and neither was her friend, Kayla.

Hoping maybe they just hadn’t made it there yet, I did another sweep of the first floor then headed for the basement. Thankfully the music wasn’t loud enough to make my ears bleed, but I knew I’d have a headache the next morning.

Frat parties are never a good idea if you’re sober and tired through the whole thing.

Spotting a few teammates on my way down, I had to stop to exchange a few pleasantries. When I spotted Zoe sitting on an ugly green couch in the corner near an ongoing beer pong match, I was able to breathe easier and think again. She was sitting next to Kayla, who had her back to me, and they were talking in what seemed like hushed tones—as hushed as they could get in that ruckus with everyone cheering on the beer pong champions.

It was when I was halfway to them that Zoe finally noticed me and our eyes met across the room. Someone touched my shoulder and tried to stop me from getting to her. I turned to the guy with a scowl on my face and he backed off.

“Sorry, dude. Just wanted to say congrats on a fucking awesome game yesterday.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled and gave him a chin lift, already walking away.

Pushing away the few people standing in my way, I finally reached Zoe.

Without stopping or breaking one of our rare periods of extended eye contact, I leaned down and grabbed her hand in mine, tugging her up with ease.

“Zoe!” Kayla yelped, grabbing her left arm.

“I need to talk to her,” I explained before we started playing a round of tug-of-war and Zoe could cut in. I didn’t want to give her a way of escape.

After Zoe gave her friend a cautious nod, Kayla reluctantly let her go. I took the half-empty red cup from her free hand and put it in the middle of the beer pong table. Ignoring the groaned protests, I took her toward the staircase, which had a small pocket of privacy directly behind it.

I stepped on something sticky that made me pause, but when I saw that it wasn’t puke, I ignored it kept walking. Pulling Zoe next to the wall, where the music was slightly muted, I studied her face. With her big, vulnerable eyes, she looked so unsure. Carefully, she pulled her hand out of mine.

“You left,” I started, and I could hear how gruff my voice sounded.

She looked taken back but still answered. “Yes, because you told me to leave.”

“No. I told her to leave.”

“You were looking right into my eyes when you spoke. It’s okay, Dylan. You’re allowed to have friends over. I shouldn’t have… I hope I didn’t interrupt—”

I towered over her and she leaned back. “Are you being serious right now?”

Even bigger eyes. “What?”

“You hope you didn’t interrupt?”

Her brows drew together in confusion. “Yes?”

“Are you playing with me, Zoe? Because I can’t believe you can be this clueless. You can’t be.”

“I’m not doing anything. You’re angry with me for some reason, and I think I’m just gonna go back to Kay—”

As she turned away from me, I caught her wrist from behind and pulled her back to my chest. After the initial grunt, she stilled. Thanks to those boots I loved so much, her head reached almost up to my chin.

Tilting my head, I took a deep breath of her sweet scent and tried to calm the hell down. Her shoulders tensed.

“You can’t be this clueless,” I repeated in a whisper against her ear, catching the slight tremble in her body. Her head twisted, just a small movement. I glanced down to see her hand gripping the edge of her cardigan, so I reached for her fingers and laced them with my own, ignoring how tensely she was holding herself.

“Dylan, I—”

“I just want you to listen to me, just once. That’s it, Zoe. That’s all.” Grasping her other hand, I did the same and wrapped our arms around her stomach. Her left hand squeezed mine in a tight grip, but she didn’t yank herself away.

I closed the last few inches separating us by pulling her flush against my chest.

“Dylan, there are peo—”

“It’s dark, and no one can see us back here,” I muttered in a bitter voice. Her warning helped me remember exactly why I couldn’t and shouldn’t hold her like this, not even in a dark corner at a party where no one cared about anything but their booze and who they’d get to take to bed or whatever empty surface they could find. “Don’t ask me to let go, please. I can’t.”

She quieted so I gave her middle a squeeze as a thank you and let out a long breath. Resting my forehead on her shoulder, I inhaled deeply. Slowly, as if she was afraid she’d startle me, she rested her temple against the side of my head, and something inside me unraveled, my blood boiling hot.