Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Ellis

I strutted up the front steps to the house party on Camille Street. My costume had drawn looks—and whistles of appreciation—all the way here.

I'd had to find something last minute, and the only thing that fit me was this skimpy firefighter costume: red booty shorts, yellow suspenders, a fire hat, and a coiled hose I wore over one shoulder.

It was kind of ridiculous, but I looked damn sexy in it, as confirmed by Becca, Austin, and Zach. Jordan hadn't replied, which bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

Did he not think I was rocking it?

A guy in jeans and a dark T-shirt leaned against the exterior of the house, a vape pen in his mouth.

"What are you dressed up as?" I asked. "Wait, don't tell me." I pointed at him. "College slacker."

He blew out a smoke ring, his lips quirking. "You got me."

The door was open, music spilling out onto the porch, along with laughter. Excitement zipped through me. It had been too long since I'd been to a college party. My frat hosted them regularly, and they were always super fun.

I stepped inside, passing a small cluster of people on their way out the door. The couch stood against the wall, pushed aside to make space in the center of the room for dancing. A guy and girl were enthusiastically making out on it.

I blamed the distraction of tongues and wandering hands for why I didn't notice until I was in the middle of the room that one: everyone was staring at me; two: several of them were snickering; and three: they were all dressed casually.

Casually! As in, not in costume.

"Did someone hire a stripper?" Heath Ballard called out, even though he sat behind me in Torts class, the jerk.

"Whoa!" Elana Graber, from my legal writing class, blinked at me. "I did I miss a memo? Is this a costume party?"

"Apparently, I'm the one who got the wrong memo," I said. "And I'm going to kill Vic."

I stomped through the living room, scanning the faces, most of which were laughing or wincing as I went by. A few stared at my ass and chest with dropped jaws, but I really couldn't hold it against them since I'd chosen the costume.

It had seemed like a better idea when I'd thought everyone would be dressed slutty.

I marched through the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, my own parade of shame, until finally I spotted Vic in a rec room. He was leaning against the wall, looking bored, while Clayton played pool with a couple of guys who looked only vaguely familiar. They were probably in second year, like him, which is why we didn't have more classes together.

Victor's gaze fell on me and he choked on his sip from the red plastic cup in his hand.

"Holy shit," he gasped, sputtering and laughing.

"Ha-ha. You got me. Very funny."

"I knew you'd show up in a costume, but I didn't think—" He lost it, laughing again while waving his hand up and down my body.

Of course, this exchange didn't go unnoticed. Clayton straightened from the pool table, eyes wide, as he looked me over. I felt more naked than the last time we'd been in bed together. Except this time, I had an entire audience.

"Wow, Ellis…" Clay said, seeming speechless. "That's something else."

"Something tacky," Vic added with a snort.

I forced a smile to my face, even as my skin burned like a fiery blaze that not even an actual firefighter could extinguish.

"You know, Vic, you tricked me into wearing a costume, and now here I am, half-naked in front of your fiancé." I glanced at Clayton, who was still blatantly ogling me. "So, who's laughing now?"

I spun on my heel, knowing I was giving them all a view of my ass in tight booty shorts, and did my best strut from the room. Behind me, I heard Vic exclaim, "He's so awful! I can't believe you dated him."

I didn't stick around to hear how Clay responded. If he wanted me, he knew where to find me. I stalked down the hall, heart pounding, stomach churning.

I wanted desperately to escape, but I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

Instead, I went to the drink table and mixed a cocktail, then downed it in one go. It would take a lot more to get me drunk with the muscle mass I had going on, but it helped settle my nerves a little.

"For what it's worth, I think it was a dick move, whoever did this to you," Amber Girard, from Torts, said.

I sighed. "Thanks. I should have expected it. I'm an idiot."

"No one should expect this kind of mean girls shit," Amber said. "And you're not an idiot. I saw you got chosen for Callahan's internship."

"Thanks. You always have insightful answers in class."

She shrugged. "Not that anyone notices."

A friend called her away, and she patted my arm. "You look hot as fuck in that outfit. Own it, babe!"

She was right. I should own it. I'd planned to before discovering I was the only person at the party dressed this way. But it was tough to own it when I was standing alone like a forlorn puppy.

I poured another drink, but before I could down it, a familiar voice caught my notice.

"Has anyone seen Ellis?" Jordan sounded frantic. "He's wearing a costume, a sexy firefighter?"

Sexy? Was that a description of the costume or me?

I stepped out of the kitchen where the drinks were and caught sight of Jordan heading my way.

"Jordie?"

"El, hey." He sounded a little winded, his cheeks pink. He still wore his business clothes from earlier today, including the dorky tie. "Are you okay? I came as soon as I realized the trick Vic must have pulled."

"How did you figure it out?"

"I saw some pics online." I blanched, and he added, "Not of you! Just people not in costume. I'm sorry I didn't realize what was happening sooner."

"You came here just for me?"

"Of course I did. I'll always look out for you, Ellis." He paused. "Do you want to leave? I'll take you home."

"No."

"Really?"

"I can't run out of here like a victim. That's like admitting defeat to Vic."

"Okay." Jordan took a breath. "Let's stay, then. Let's show you having an absolute blast of a time."

"How?"

He hesitated, then extended his hand. "Dance with me?"

Jordan was not the dancing type. He wasn't even the party type. He'd told me earlier today this wasn't his scene. He'd come here for me. Because he was a good friend.

The best friend.

I took his hand, relief sweeping through me. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

I slid my arms around his neck, since he was taller than me, and Jordan rested his hands on my hips. The music had just shifted to a slow ballad, and I fell into an easy sway in Jordan's arms.

Once again, I was half dressed and pressed against him. Unlike last time we were in this position, Jordan was fully dressed. But that didn't take away from the surge of need that hit me.

I clutched him tighter, tucking my face into the join between his neck and shoulder. I felt his breath hitch as I nuzzled his warm skin.

Jordan's hands flexed on my hips, as if maybe he'd like to move them somewhere else. I wanted him to drop them lower, to squeeze my ass.

Blood began to rush south, and I could feel a hardness brush my stomach that told me Jordan was hard for me too.

I pulled back enough to look at him. "Jordie…"

His gaze darted around the room. "Everyone's watching us. Clayton?—"

"Let them watch."

I went up on my tiptoes and pressed my mouth to his. His small gasp of shock echoed through me. What was I doing? I was kissing my best friend. Had I lost my mind?

Jordan froze for a moment, and then, as if a switch had flipped, he kissed me back. He swept his tongue over my bottom lip and I parted my mouth, suddenly desperate to taste him.

His tongue met mine, almost shyly dipping in before it retreated just as quickly. I went up in flames, needing more right the fuck now.

I surged into the kiss, gripping the back of his neck so hard I'd probably leave bruises. Our tongues met more fully, twisting and swirling erotically, and Jordan's hands finally, finally, dipped down to my ass.

I groaned and pressed harder into the kiss, unable to get close enough, deep enough on this dance floor to satisfy me.

"Get a room!" someone called.

Whistles and catcalls erupted, along with a few derogatory comments.

We broke apart, breathing hard.

"Okay, now I'm ready to leave," I said.

Jordan blinked, his eyes hazy with lust. It took him a minute to process my words. "You want to leave now?"

I nodded. "I think I've proven that Vic's prank didn't hurt me. After all, I just made out with a guy in the middle of the dance floor."

"Right," he said slowly. "The prank."

I gripped his hand and tugged him toward the door. "Walk me back to my dorm?"

Jordan licked his lips, as if he was still savoring the taste of me, and my cock gave a kick at the thought of him running that shy tongue over other parts of me.

Fuck, I wanted him so bad.

I sped up, tugging him toward the door, plowing through and around groups of people, until we hit the sidewalk. The cool air smacked me in the face, a reminder I was barely dressed, but it did little to cool the lust burning through me.

My pulse pounded in my cock, and I had little room for logical thought. All I knew was want.

I wanted Jordan.

I wanted to kiss him again.

I wanted to more than kiss him.

And if I had my way, I'd do it tonight.