Read Online Deep End: A Bad Boy Sports Romance by Roxeanne Rolling - Free Book Online

laughing and yelling raucously. He seems fine, except for a lot of scratch marks where the branches hit him.
    It’s a strange feeling, standing by myself, completely apart from the par ty atmosphere. I feel nervous a nd shy, totally separate .
    Su ddenly someone is putting his arm around me. “There she is.” It’s Anchor. I mean Matt.
    “Hi, Matt,” I say. “Thanks for telling me about the party.” My instinct is to push his arm off of me. Or at least I think it’s my instinct. I’m not so sure now, seeing him shirtless again. He is quite attractive, and his chiseled face has never looked more alive and inviting.
    I let his arm stay there. After all, I’m supposed to be flirting with him.
    “What happened to calling me Anchor, like everyone else?” he says, pretending to be insulted.
    “It’s a stupid n ame, isn’t it?” I say, but I ba t my eyelashes a little bit at him. Even though I’m out of practice, or never have been in practice, with flirting, I think it still works, and has the desired effect. It seems like I can say anything I want, however ha rsh, as long as I accompany it with the right body gestures. Maybe this is a way to stay in character while still saying some of what I want to say.
    “I’ll show you around, come on,” says Anchor, leading me by the hand into the party.
    The house is completely overwhelming . I think the last time I’ve been to a frat style party, I was a freshman, and I had convinced myself that I needed to explore, at least once, everything tha t the campus life had to offer. I soon realized parties aren’t for me, though.
    The music is so loud I can barely hea r anyone. There are swimmers all over, accompanied by one or two sorority type girls each , their faces completely covered with makeup.
    Matt gets me a drink from somewhere. It’s some kind of cheap gin mixed with fruit punch, probably just so they can get all the girls drunk.
    Matt is yelling something in my ear, but I can’t hear what it is he’s saying.
    People are playing beer pong all a round. The rest are cheering, and dancing wildly. The lights are low, mostly off, leaving the darkness illuminated almost entirely by strobe lights of all different colors.
    “What’s that they’re taking?” I say, pointing to a shady looking guy who’s distributing pills to a group of swimmers and their girls.
    “ Ecstasy ,” yells Matt. It’s the first word he’s said that I understood since coming inside.
    I make a mental note about the ecstasy . I know it’s illegal, and, in a situation like this, with dancing, and alcohol use, possibly very dangerous, causing serious dehydration. This is a little gem of a juicy detail, exactly the kind I’m looking for.
    Trying to act casual, I take a survey of the house, or at least what I can see, given the lights. The place is in really horrible shape, and practically everything I see is a real safety hazard, not to mention some sort of health code or zoning regulation violation.
    “Can we go somewhere private?” I yell to Anchor, I mean Matt. It seems t o o weird to call him Matt. Anchor seems to be his natural name. I really should be observing the party more , taking mental notes (because I know my voice recorder isn’t going to get anything salvageable with all the background noise), but I’m overwhelmed and really can’t take any more of this.
    I turn to look for Matt, who hasn’t yet responded.
    Somehow, in just a few seconds , he’s become the center of everyone’s attention. He’s hanging off a chandelier , that looks like it might fall down any second, as it creaks under his weight. It’s little glass bulbs are breaking, being crushed by his wildly-moving hands which are moving like he’s on the monkey bars.
    I can’t help but admiring the agility with which he moves. His body is so big, and his chest is so bulky, but he moves just like a gymnast, doing little tricks with his hands and body.
    The crowd is equally impressed, and for a moment, all