either.”
His eyes widened a little. “What about your boyfriend?”
She grinned. “I don't have one.”
He grinned back and pulled her closer to him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I am not drunk enough to deal with this,” Chris muttered to himself. He stood near the edge of the patio and watched Megan dance with some random guy. He turned away and took another swig of his beer. His mouth twisted in distaste. Whoever got the keg did a bad job and got the cheapest thing available. They didn't even spring for liquor to make mixed drinks. Shitty party.
He'd scored the touchdown that allowed their team to win. Him, the cornerback. He'd seen the CCC quarterback about to lob a short pass, and ran full out to snatch it out of the air. He still couldn't believed they'd run a passing play of any sort so close to the end of the game with a small lead. Their stupidity was his gain. Teammates and other students passed by him and slapped him on the shoulder, offering their congratulations. He should be having fun. Celebrating. Finding a chick and taking the edge off.
Instead he was brooding in the corner watching his roommate get groped under the guise of dancing. And she didn't seem to mind. The song ended, and the sound of her laughter in the relative quiet between songs pulled Chris's attention back to her. He saw the guy in front of her now, crowding into her space, backing her toward the door to the house. Her hands went to his chest and she shook her head. Chris stood up straighter, fists clenched at his sides. No one was going to force Megan into something she didn't want. Not while he was watching. He already wanted to rip the dickhead's arms off for touching her anyway. Not that he had any right to feel that way. He had no claim on Megan. Seeing some other guy with his hands all over her pissed him off for reasons he couldn't explain, not even to himself.
The music started again, and Megan started dancing, moving away from the asshole who'd been trying to get her inside the house. Chris watched while the guy stared after her for a moment and then joined her again. He continued watching while they danced. He raised his cup to his lips again, but the bitter smell of the beer stopped him before he took another drink. He dumped out his cup in the dirt near where he stood, and leaned back to watch some more. He felt like a stalker, but he couldn't help himself. People came and went, occasionally blocking his view, but he could keep tabs on Megan and her dance partner pretty easily.
After watching that guy run his hands over Megan's ass for what had to be the hundredth time, Chris had had enough. He pushed his way past some people who picked that moment to step in front of him. The guy was behind her now, grinding his dick against Megan's ass. Chris let his hand land heavily on the guy's shoulder and pulled him away. Not too hard, but with enough strength to let the guy know he was serious and not to be fucked with.
The guy stumbled back, eyes blazing. “What the fuck, man? Find your own chick. We're dancing.”
Megan had stopped dancing and turned to watch them. Chris bared his teeth in what might have passed for a smile. “Not anymore, dude. She's here with me.” He reached for Megan and pulled her against his side. He didn't look down at her, keeping his eyes on his rival, but he could feel her pushing against him, trying to get out from under his arm. He waited until the guy moved away, muttering to himself and shaking his head.
Megan landed a surprisingly hard punch to his back, just missing his kidney. He let her go, looking down at her. Her brown eyes were murderous. “What the fuck, Chris? What is your problem?”
“That asshole's my problem!” They were both yelling, as much from anger and frustration as the need to be heard. People around them stopped and moved away, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire of a budding fight.
Megan narrowed her eyes at him and tried to punch him again. He caught her wrist
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