Chapter 8

EIGHT

Ididn't get a chance to ask Briar about the LSAT because over the next week, classes started to gear up properly, with assignments flying in thick and fast. Plus, Allison and I were busy arranging the combined mixer with Zeta Tau. We spent three nights in her office making lists and figuring out things like who the chaperones were, whether other frats were allowed to attend, and how much food and booze we needed. And let me tell you, anyone who thought a frat party happened on the spur of the moment didn't know shit.

We got it done though, and the mixer was a hell of a night. And even though I stuck to just two beers on account of being a designated "responsible party," it was still worth it for moments like seeing Sawyer finally asking Laura, the Zeta he was hot for, out on a date. Watching him make his move, I felt like a proud parent, in a totally appropriate and non-creepy way.

Briar was there, and he hit the spiked punch hard with Charlie. Turned out they were both lightweights—or maybe Marty hadn't held back when he'd added the coconut rum—but either way, both Briar and Charlie got hammered pretty quick. They ended up sprawled in an armchair together, giggling as Briar started twisting Charlie's red hair into elflocks. Anyone else might have been jealous, but one, I was just glad Charlie had someone watching his back, and two, Briar was an adorable drunk, and it was kind of fun seeing him without his usual prickly demeanor.

Trey sent everyone home around midnight. Since it had been the first big freshie mixer and most of them were well and truly wasted, tradition dictated that just this once, the committee would clean up. The pledges would get to sleep over, and in the morning, we'd make them breakfast—well, some of us would. Marty was banned from anything more complicated than toast.

Trey came out of the kitchen and started handing out trash bags, and I resisted the urge to suggest we leave the mess, knowing from experience facing cleanup the next morning was always ten times worse. I started picking up red Solo cups and scraping the remains of smashed cupcakes off the hardwood flooring.

Allison and Mackenzie made sure all their pledges got safely home to Zeta Tau and then came back to help, and inside an hour, it looked good enough that Trey was willing to leave the rest until morning. Then came the fun part—putting a bunch of drunken freshmen to bed.

We left the Jameses and Sawyer sprawled on the couches since they were out cold, but Briar and Charlie stirred. Briar blinked at me, his eyes wide and dark, and said, "Help me up?" It was the easiest thing in the world to slide an arm around him and pull him to my chest, where he fit just right.

It was slow going climbing the stairs, but I didn't mind. Briar clung to me like a tipsy octopus, the weight of him warm against my side as he wobbled his way from step to step until we finally made the top landing. I steered him toward one of the empty bedrooms, and when we stepped inside, Briar wrapped his arms around my neck and gave me a clumsy kiss.

His lips landed on mine, his tongue searching, and I opened my mouth in response because he was gorgeous, and I wasn't made of stone. He tasted of sweet fruit punch and coconut rum, and I kissed him back for longer than I should have. I pulled away when his hands slid down my spine and cupped my ass, though. A kiss was one thing, but nothing else was happening while he was in this state.

Briar pouted, color high in his cheeks, and yeah, that did nothing to help my rapidly filling dick. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because my parents raised me right, and you've had too much to drink to agree to anything." I stepped back so I wouldn't be tempted to kiss him again and folded my arms over my chest for good measure.

Briar reached out and ran a fingertip down my bicep. "I haven't had that much. We can still fool around."

And fuck if it wasn't tempting. But my dad and I had had that talk about "if she's too drunk to say no, she's too drunk to say yes," and I'd taken it to heart. I shook my head. "You can't even stand straight, Briar."

He giggled. "I can't do anything straight."

He laughed again, and I laughed with him before steering him over to the bed with a hand on his elbow. I made sure to leave room for Jesus in case he got any ideas. Briar, not Jesus. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

A crease appeared briefly between Briar's brows, but he huffed out a sigh as he sat on the side of the bed. "Fine."

He extended his hands toward his shoes—a pair of lime-green Converse that laced all the way up his calves and looked killer with the purple skinny jeans he was wearing—and the crease reappeared. "Can you—shoes?"

He waggled his fingers, helpless. It was cute as hell.

I'd been in the same position more than once myself, so I crouched down in front of him and undid the laces, doing my best not to get distracted by the way his delicate calves fit into the palm of my hand as I held his foot steady.

I tugged one shoe off and then the other, and as I lowered Briar's foot to the ground, there was a soft thud. I glanced up to find that he'd passed out. He was sprawled across the mattress, eyes closed and limbs completely lax.

I levered myself to my feet, glad I'd listened to my instincts and not Briar and his "I haven't had that much" bullshit. I debated taking his jeans off so he could sleep more comfortably—I'd put drunken freshmen to bed before—but this felt different. Undressing a sleeping pledge that I was attracted to seemed wrong. I settled for popping the top button and lowering his zipper a scant inch before moving him around on the bed and rolling him onto his side so I could pull the blankets up over him.

He grumbled under his breath when I moved him, but then he was gone again, long lashes fanning across his cheeks and his dark hair a riotous mess. I gave in to the temptation to smooth it down against the nape of his neck and drop a kiss on his temple, and when I pulled back, he was smiling in his sleep. It was the most relaxed I'd ever seen him.

I left him and went downstairs, where I repeated the whole process with Charlie. He was in a worse state than Briar, but he was a happy drunk at least. He laughed the entire time when he staggered up the stairs and careened wildly into the walls of the upstairs hallway, bouncing between them like a long, skinny pinball. I caught hold of him and steered him into the bedroom and over to the bed under the window. Briar was still out cold, and he didn't stir when Charlie kicked off his shoes and collapsed across the surface of the other bed with a happy little snuffle.

I threw a blanket over him as well and left them to it. I wandered back downstairs to see if anyone else needed a hand, but James One and James Two and Sawyer were asleep on their couches, and someone—Trey probably—had helped everyone else to bed. A yawn escaped me, and I stretched and climbed the stairs for the third and hopefully last time.

My bedroom was empty, with no sign of either Marty or Squirrel, so I figured they must have gone over to Theta Phi for the night. I undressed down to my underwear and got into bed, the comforter cocooning me in warmth and softness. I closed my eyes, secure in the knowledge that I wouldn't be woken up by Marty having what he thought was quiet sex with Dalton. Spoiler—it was not quiet sex. I'd had to ask Marty more than once to dial it back, but he always seemed to forget.

I dozed for a while and must have fallen asleep because the next thing I was aware of was the creak of the floorboards beside my bed and a weight settling on the edge of my mattress.

"Wrong bed, Marty," I mumbled.

The weight disappeared for a moment, and then my comforter shifted, and a wave of cooler air pebbled my skin as someone climbed into bed behind me. "It's not Marty."

"Briar?" I rolled over. "Shit. What are you—you're drunk, bro."

"Bro? Really?" In the faint beams of the moonlight streaming through the window, he raised a brow. "You're going with bro?"

Okay, so it sounded dumb when he said it like that. Because I didn't know what Briar and I were exactly, but we sure as hell weren't bros. I shifted back, trying to put some distance between us. "I don't know what to call you."

"I have a name, Casey," he said, wriggling closer.

With the wall behind me now, I had nowhere to go. "Briar."

He smiled. "That's it."

I put a hand on his chest to stop him plastering himself against me. "You're drunk."

"It's almost dawn," he said. "I'm sober as a judge."

"Have you met many judges?"

He snorted. "The point is, I'm sober."

"Can you reach my phone?"

He twisted around and grabbed it off the nightstand. "What for?"

"I want to see the time."

He shoved the phone in my face. Yeah, it was past 5:00 a.m., so I'd definitely slept longer than I'd thought.

"Oooh!" He pulled the phone back. "Unlocked!" He rolled onto his back and held the phone up. "Let's see what browser pages you have open."

"Oh, come on! There's nothing incriminating on there." I really fucking hoped. I wasn't awake enough to remember exactly what I'd been checking out online recently, but I didn't think?—

"Oooh! What's this? ‘Cute femboy rides monster?—'"

"Shit! Give me that!" I grabbed the phone as Briar giggled. Except the browser wasn't open to PornHub. It was open to ESPN. Still, it took a moment for my heart to stop racing. "I wasn't even looking at stuff like that, you little shit."

"Oh, but you thought you might have been!" He elbowed me and wriggled. "Have you been thinking naughty thoughts about pretty boys in stockings, Casey?"

"Do you mean like grabbing this pillow and suffocating them to death?" I asked. "Because yes. That one's real strong right now."

His giggle turned into a cackle, and then it subsided into a comfortable silence. Then, after a while, he said, "Hey, Casey?"

"Yeah?"

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?"

He sounded shy, which didn't at all vibe with the guy in the basement who'd basically thrown me up against a wall and had his way with me. Well, okay, Briar had been the one up against the wall, but no fucking way had I been in charge down there. It was all him, and thinking about it still blew my mind.

"Yeah," I said, letting the word loose on a breath.

Briar rolled toward me and propped himself up on one elbow. His shirt slid off his shoulder, and moonlight made his pale skin glow. His mouth was curved into a small, satisfied smile as he leaned in. He kissed me soft and slow, and I responded in kind, but soon his kisses turned hungry. Before I knew it, he was sliding on top of me and straddling me, pinning me and pressing my wrists into the mattress on either side of my head as he kissed me again.

I hadn't known being held down was a thing for me until now, but turned out it really, really was. My heart thundered in my chest, and arousal shot straight to my dick, which hardened under the weight of him. He pulled back with a smirk.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" he teased, eyes bright, and then he rolled his hips in a way that made my eyes cross with how damn good it felt. The bulge in his boxers pressed against the fabric of mine, causing my dick to throb.

I let out a groan that was nothing short of filthy and rocked against him, chasing more friction. He let out a breathless laugh, pressing his body closer and setting up a fast rhythm as we humped each other like a couple of horny kids. Which, well. It looked like that fantasy I'd had about grinding against him until we both came was about to become a reality, and I was here for it. My dick strained against my boxers as I thrust up, and the rough push-pull of fabric against my sensitive cockhead soon had me panting.

Briar was breathing fast as well, and I couldn't tear my gaze away from the sight of him, perched above me in the moonlight with wide eyes and parted lips.

"Fuck, Casey," he whispered into the quiet before letting go of my wrists and settling more fully on top of me. He shoved one hand between our bodies and fumbled my boxers down past my aching balls, his knuckles grazing against my dick. He shoved his own underwear down and then swiped a thumb over the head of my dick, spreading precum down the shaft before wrapping long clever fingers around our erections.

I arched into the touch, and Briar huffed out a soft laugh against the side of my throat as he tightened his grip. The contrasting hardness of his dick and the velvet softness of his skin brushing against me stole my breath away. Jesus, I wasn't gonna last. My balls drew up tight, and it only took one firm stroke before I was coming all over his hand. I would have been embarrassed, but I was too busy riding out my orgasm—and it was only seconds before Briar tensed and groaned, and the pool of wetness on my belly grew as he added to it.

He slumped against me, and I found myself curling an arm around him, cupping his ass to hold him close. We didn't stay like that for long though because the cooling cum on my stomach got too gross to ignore.

Briar rolled out of my grip and wrinkled his nose, looking down at himself.

"There are wet wipes in the drawer," I said, propping myself up on my elbows.

He found them and handed me the pack, and I cleaned us up. I thought he might pull away and leave like he had last time, but instead he let out a satisfied sigh and curled up against me again, tracing a fingertip over the light dusting of hair on my chest. He tilted his head and blinked up at me, giving a shy smile. I kissed his cheek and settled back against the bed and just lay there for a while, drifting. It was different, having lean muscles under my hand instead of soft, feminine curves, but honestly? It was kind of awesome. This thing with Briar might be new and different, but I still wanted to see where it would take us—if we even were an us.

But Briar had come to my room and climbed into my bed and asked to kiss me, so we were something, right? Or rather we could be in three days, once Briar was a fully-fledged fraternity member.

Thinking about the pledges got me thinking about my classes and my grades and the practice LSAT I'd taken, which let me tell you, was a hell of a way to kill my post-orgasm high. I let out an involuntary sigh as I remembered my low score.

Briar squirmed against me and let out a sigh of his own, one tinged with impatience. "Don't tell me you're having a crisis of conscience again? Because I promise I want to be here, and we're not breaking any rules."

"It's not that," I said. "It's the LSAT."

Briar stiffened, then shuffled over, propping himself up on his elbows and raising one perfectly sculpted brow. "Why are you thinking about classes when we just got off? Do I need to up my game?"

I grinned at him. "You couldn't up your game, not without giving me a heart attack. But school stuff is always on my mind."

Some of the tension left his frame, and he waggled his eyebrows. "See, that sounds like a challenge right there. How hard do I have to make you come to drive every other thought out of your head? Do I need to wear those satin panties again?"

I groaned at the thought of it. "You're a fucking tease."

Briar let out a soft laugh. "It's not teasing if I deliver." He curled up against my side again, one hand trailing down the back of my thigh and making me shiver. "And now you can imagine me in lingerie instead of worrying about dumb tests that don't matter."

"Easy for you to say," I said. "You've already passed it. I'm gonna get a score of 120 and end up at a law school run out of the basement of some guy who's been disbarred for money laundering."

"I'm pretty sure you can't run law school from a basement," Briar said.

"I know. I was joking. Mostly." I rolled over so I could see his face. "You know what would be cool though? If you could help me study for it. Like, you got a 160. You obviously figured out what they're looking for."

Briar's expression shuttered. "It's subjective. I don't think it's something someone else can really help you with," he said. He drew a breath. "Anyway, I gotta go. I'll see you around, okay?"

And the next thing I knew he'd pulled away from my side and rolled out of bed in one smooth movement. He slipped out the door before I could say anything, leaving me alone and confused.

What the hell?