I remember Jase punching his number into my phone at the coffee shop and fish it from the tiny handbag Madison secured to my wrist. “Guys, let me call Jase. He’ll get us in.” The fact that I have his phone number earns me another suspicious glare from Madison.
I step to the far end of the porch, distancing myself from the dull-roar coming from inside. It rings several times and just as I’m about to hang up, Jase answers.
“Whistle? Is that you?”
I ignore the idiotic nickname. “Yeah, it’s Avery. We’re here, but we can’t get in.”
“Shit. I’m in the back removing a couple of over-drunk ass**les. Don’t leave. I’ll be right there.”
Seconds later, Jase appears at the door just long enough to exchange a few terse words with Trey. Trey barks something back in response, and Jase’s eyes flash to Noah. Ever the drama queen, Noah cocks a hand on his hip, daring them to comment on his outfit, or lack thereof.
“Whatever, just let them in,” Jase says, then turns to me. “Find me later,” he calls before disappearing back through the sea of bodies.
* * *
It’s been fifty-four minutes since I last saw Jase. I hate that I know that. I hate how aware I’ve become of his presence in a matter of a few short days. I nurse a cup of beer, mostly to keep Madison and Noah off my back, and stand with them in the crowded living room. My ass has been grabbed at least half a dozen times and beer spilled down the front of my corset twice. I want to leave. But first I want to see Jase again. Traitorous body.
The music’s too loud for real conversation, so I sway next to Madison, trying to ignore the way these heels pinch my feet. Who needs all ten toes anyway?
I feel Madison’s sudden tug on my hand. “Jase’s looking at you like he wants to taste your sweet honey.”
I nearly spit out my drink and break into a coughing fit, sputtering and gasping for air. “God, Madison.”
But when my eyes find his, holy shit, it’s like all the air’s been sucked from the room. Jase looks incredibly sexy in his black tailored suit and he’s looking at me. Just me. In a crowded room full of people – more than half of which are beautiful sorority girls, wearing next to nothing, clamoring for his attention.
Jase’s hot gaze slips from mine, down my chest, caressing my hips, my bare thighs, taking in my sky-high black heels before slowly gliding up to meet my eyes once again. My heart jumps inside my chest, breaking into an all-out sprint, as I realize he makes no apology about checking me out.
I’m suddenly thankful for Madison’s intervention and making me wear this outfit, and offer up a silent prayer of gratitude for Victoria’s Secret and the corset hoisting the girls up for display. I’ve never felt so wanted in my entire life. So beautiful and desirable.
Noah leans closer. “Damn, he looks like he’s going to eat you alive. Go talk to him.” He gives me a gentle shove in Jase’s direction and I stumble on shaky legs across the room.
Silently, I curse my friends as I make my way through the crowd. I thought they were anti-Jase, but now they’re plotting to bring us together. And though I’ve wanted to see him since I first got here, now I suddenly need a minute. It was sweet of him to make sure we got into the party okay, and I realize I should thank him. I think I like his sweet side. But when I finally stop in front of him, sweet Jase is nowhere to be found. His gaze is deep and penetrating, and I can’t help but think he looks angry about something. Really angry.
“Jase?” I question, my mouth suddenly dry.
“Come with me.” He interlaces our fingers and tugs me toward the stairs. We fight our way through the crowd with Jase leading the way. He keeps my hand tightly locked in his until we reach the door to the stairwell. He produces a set of keys, unlocks it, then guides me up, keeping his hand at the small of my back as I ascend the stairs in front of him.
What the heck is wrong with him? I came to his stupid party, even dressed the part. Why does he look like someone murdered his puppy? He doesn’t say a word, but his firm hand curls around my hip as he guides me toward the attic.
When we reach his bedroom, he firmly closes the door behind us, before slowly turning to face me. His deep blue eyes radiate intensity, and his expression is nothing like the relaxed, friendly look I’m used to. My blood pumps wildly in my chest, my pulse keeping pace with the beat of the music I can hear faintly from downstairs.
He strips his jacket from his shoulders, and tosses it on a chair beside the door before yanking the knot of his black tie to loosen it, then works on his shirtsleeves. His once crisp white shirt is now undone at the neck and rolled to his elbows. I stand there, feeling over-exposed and confused.
He stalks toward me, caging me in against the wall, his hands resting near my head. I can see the veins in his forearms straining against the skin, and his hands are curled into fists.
“Jase?”
“I was afraid of this.” His voice is low, rough.
“W-what?” I stumble over the simple word with him so close. I can feel his warm breath on my lips, his body heat, and the raw sexiness oozing off him.
“Avery, look at you.” His eyes lower, sending me into a full-body blush.
“What?” It’s apparently the only word in my vocabulary.
He meets my eyes and his expression softens, the anger I sensed earlier giving way to something else entirely. “You’re stunning. So lovely.” His hand cups my jaw and his thumb softly brushes against my skin. “You look amazing in jeans and a T-shirt. In this, you look downright sinful.”