of her through the haze of smoke, the crowd of faces. Long eyes he thought were almost exactly the same shade of her hair, a long, slim nose. And that luscious curve of lips. Gold hoops at her ears. Two in the left, one in the right.
She was tall—maybe she was wearing heels, he couldn’t see her feet. But he could see the chain around her neck holding some sort of stone or crystal, the outline of her breasts against a dark pink top.
For an instant, maybe two, the music stopped for him. The room went silent.
Then someone stepped into his line of vision and it all came roaring back.
“Who is that girl?”
“Which girl?” Absently Brad looked over his shoulder, then shrugged it. “Place is crawling with them. Hey, next time you take a side trip, take me along.”
“What?” Still dazzled, Bo looked down. He could barely remember his friend’s name. “I gotta . . . here.” He pushed the beer into Brad’s hand and started shoving his way through the crowd.
By the time he got to where she’d been, there was no sign of her. A kind of panic bubbled in his throat as he maneuvered his way into the kitchen, a dining room where people sat at, on and under the table.
“Did a girl come through here? Tall blonde, curly hair, pink shirt.”
“Nobody’s come in but you.” A girl with a short wedge of black hair sent him a sultry smile. “But I can be blond.”
“Maybe some other time.”
He searched the house, all the way to the third floor, and all the way down again where he circled both the front and back yards.
He found blondes, he found curls. But he never found the one who’d made the music stop.
S he was driving with her heart in her throat. She thought it was good that she was driving herself. It showed that she wasn’t being swept along, that she was making a choice. She was in control of her actions, the consequences.
Making love the first time, every time, should be a choice.
She only wished she had thought ahead enough to have bought some sexy underwear.
Josh lived in an off-campus apartment, and his roommate was pulling an all-nighter with a study group. When he’d told her that—he’d been kissing her when he told her that—she’d been the one to say, Let’s go there.
She was the one who’d made the move. And she was the one beginning a new phase of her life. But it didn’t stop her hands from trembling a little.
She parked a few spaces down from where he pulled in, carefully turned off the engine, picked up her purse. She knew exactly what she was doing, she reminded herself, illustrating it by locking her car, placing her keys in the little inside pocket where she always kept them.
She smiled when she held her hand out to his. They crossed the lot, stepped through the front door of the building when another car pulled in. And parked.
“Place is a little messy,” Josh said as they started up the stairs to the second floor.
“At the moment, ours is about to be condemned by the health department.”
She waited until he’d unlocked the door, then stepped inside. He was right about the mess—clothes, shoes, an empty pizza box, books, magazines. The sofa looked like it had been salvaged from the dump, then haphazardly covered with a Terps blanket.
“Homey,” she said.
“Fairly disgusting, actually. I should’ve told you to give me ten minutes before coming up. I could’ve shoved stuff in closets.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She turned and let herself go into his arms. He smelled like Irish Spring and tasted like cherry Life Savers. His hand skimmed over her hair, down her back.
“You want some music?”
She nodded. “Music’s good.”
He ran his hands down her arms before he stepped back, walked over to a stereo. “I don’t think we have any Mariah Carey.”
“Praise Jesus.” With a laugh, she pressed a hand to her racing heart. “I’m nervous. I’ve never done this before.”
His mouth opened and closed again as his eyes widened.
She was tall—maybe she was wearing heels, he couldn’t see her feet. But he could see the chain around her neck holding some sort of stone or crystal, the outline of her breasts against a dark pink top.
For an instant, maybe two, the music stopped for him. The room went silent.
Then someone stepped into his line of vision and it all came roaring back.
“Who is that girl?”
“Which girl?” Absently Brad looked over his shoulder, then shrugged it. “Place is crawling with them. Hey, next time you take a side trip, take me along.”
“What?” Still dazzled, Bo looked down. He could barely remember his friend’s name. “I gotta . . . here.” He pushed the beer into Brad’s hand and started shoving his way through the crowd.
By the time he got to where she’d been, there was no sign of her. A kind of panic bubbled in his throat as he maneuvered his way into the kitchen, a dining room where people sat at, on and under the table.
“Did a girl come through here? Tall blonde, curly hair, pink shirt.”
“Nobody’s come in but you.” A girl with a short wedge of black hair sent him a sultry smile. “But I can be blond.”
“Maybe some other time.”
He searched the house, all the way to the third floor, and all the way down again where he circled both the front and back yards.
He found blondes, he found curls. But he never found the one who’d made the music stop.
S he was driving with her heart in her throat. She thought it was good that she was driving herself. It showed that she wasn’t being swept along, that she was making a choice. She was in control of her actions, the consequences.
Making love the first time, every time, should be a choice.
She only wished she had thought ahead enough to have bought some sexy underwear.
Josh lived in an off-campus apartment, and his roommate was pulling an all-nighter with a study group. When he’d told her that—he’d been kissing her when he told her that—she’d been the one to say, Let’s go there.
She was the one who’d made the move. And she was the one beginning a new phase of her life. But it didn’t stop her hands from trembling a little.
She parked a few spaces down from where he pulled in, carefully turned off the engine, picked up her purse. She knew exactly what she was doing, she reminded herself, illustrating it by locking her car, placing her keys in the little inside pocket where she always kept them.
She smiled when she held her hand out to his. They crossed the lot, stepped through the front door of the building when another car pulled in. And parked.
“Place is a little messy,” Josh said as they started up the stairs to the second floor.
“At the moment, ours is about to be condemned by the health department.”
She waited until he’d unlocked the door, then stepped inside. He was right about the mess—clothes, shoes, an empty pizza box, books, magazines. The sofa looked like it had been salvaged from the dump, then haphazardly covered with a Terps blanket.
“Homey,” she said.
“Fairly disgusting, actually. I should’ve told you to give me ten minutes before coming up. I could’ve shoved stuff in closets.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She turned and let herself go into his arms. He smelled like Irish Spring and tasted like cherry Life Savers. His hand skimmed over her hair, down her back.
“You want some music?”
She nodded. “Music’s good.”
He ran his hands down her arms before he stepped back, walked over to a stereo. “I don’t think we have any Mariah Carey.”
“Praise Jesus.” With a laugh, she pressed a hand to her racing heart. “I’m nervous. I’ve never done this before.”
His mouth opened and closed again as his eyes widened.
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