Like Gravity(38)

“Hey, I’m Landon,” he said, moving in front of me. “You were pretty amazing up there earlier.” He held out a hand for me to shake, smiling in a friendly, I’d-like-to-see-what-color-your-panties-are kind of way. His blond hair was lightly tousled and his eyes were gorgeous up close – green with flecks of hazel throughout.

Perfect.

“Brooklyn,” I said, smiling flirtatiously and placing my hand in his. This was going to be even easier than I’d expected.

“Don’t you know it’s not good to drink alone, Brooklyn?” He laughed.

I sidled a glance at him, winking. “Good thing you’re here to keep me company then.” He grinned and I downed the rest of my beer.

Two beers – courtesy of Landon – and thirty minutes later, I was feeling buzzed and ready to leave. I was anxious to get away from Lexi’s accusations and Finn’s flock of women. I’d purposefully avoided looking in his direction, then immediately scolded myself for doing so. If I couldn’t even watch him flirting with other girls, he was even deeper under my skin than I’d realized before. I needed Landon to help push Finn from my mind as soon as possible. Maybe then I could finally get back to normal.

Part of my mind was screaming at me, even as I allowed Landon to lead me toward the exit.

Is this the person you want to be, Brooklyn?

Do you really want to go back to being the guarded, selfish, self-preserving whore you were a few months ago?

What about all the progress you’ve made with therapy and Lexi and Finn?

Just thinking his name had me pushing away that annoying inner voice and snapping back to reality. It was suddenly easy to lace my fingers through Landon’s and follow him to the exit, once again eager to leave.

Near the club door, Landon bumped into a table of his fraternity brothers and stopped briefly to talk. He introduced me, laughing and blushing as his brothers made crass and utterly unoriginal comments about him “getting lucky” tonight. I rolled my eyes and waited impatiently for him to move on.

When nearly five minutes had passed, I tapped Landon on the shoulder and told him it was time to leave. Turning toward the door, I cast one final glance behind me and, to my dismay, locked eyes with the one person I’d been determined to avoid.

I grinned halfheartedly at Finn, but felt the smile drop off my face as I registered the anger in his eyes. His dark blue irises were steely with rage as they glared at Landon, who’d just placed his hand on my ass in an attempt to usher me out. When I didn’t move, Landon leaned down and kissed my neck.

“Come on, babe, I thought you wanted to go?” His breath was too warm and smelled like beer; it made my skin crawl. There were no butterflies, or chills, or stuttering heartbeats – just an intractable sense of wrongness. I ignored the feeling, pulled my neck away from Landon’s lips, and tore my eyes from Finn’s.

He’d ignored me for an entire week, and now he was furious that I was leaving the bar with someone? Well he could go to hell, as far as I was concerned. Either he had some kind of multiple personality disorder, or I was missing some crucial information.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go,” I said, setting my shoulders determinedly and ignoring the ache in my chest as I allowed Landon to pull me through the exit.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a long walk to Landon’s apartment. He lived about three blocks from the club, in the same neighborhood as me. I tried to remind myself how hot he was as we stumbled through his front door, his lips fused to mine. When his tongue entered my mouth, I responded on autopilot, unable to engage on a deeper level. Groaning in frustration – which Landon no doubt assumed was passion – I pulled off his shirt and ran my hands over his chest.

His six-pack was a chiseled work of art. If I’d met him months ago, I’d have gladly spent the night tracing my tongue along each indentation in a show of my appreciation. But tonight, I wasn’t going to waste any time. I needed him to clear out my mind.

Lexi used to say that I treat sex like a trip to the masseuse or the chiropractor – like a romp between the sheets was nothing more than a good back stretch or spine cracking. I’d always laughed when she’d said it, but deep down I knew it was true. I’d used sex to scratch an itch, nothing more.

Until I’d met Finn, and started to care.

I knew instinctually that sex with him would be different. I also knew that what I was doing with Landon right now couldn’t hold a candle to the fantasies I’d had about being with Finn, let alone compare to what actually sleeping with him might be like.

My grey tank top hit the floor, followed quickly by my bra. Landon’s hands cupped my breasts too clumsily and roughly to even remotely turn me on. He was slobbering on my neck, murmuring between openmouthed kisses.

“You’re so f*cking hot, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby,” I said immediately, muscles tensing under his touch.

“Okay.” The slobbering continued as I stood unresponsive, my hands at my sides. “You’re so f*cking hot.”

His hands reached for the button on my jeans, and I knew I had to put a stop to this before he went any further. Glumly, I admitted defeat – his touch couldn’t drive Finn out of my mind any more than alcohol or denial could.

I was screwed. And not in the literal, good sense of the word.

“Landon, stop.”