Chapter 3 - Part 1

"How did you find me?" she asked.

"It really wasn't that difficult," I answered. "I asked around."

Slater had a network of people around campus. He could find anyone.

"What are you doing here?" She looked anxious as she dropped her eyes to the floor. She shifted slightly. My presence was making her nervous.

"I wanted to check on you." The answer came out huskier than I had planned.

Checking on her had been part of the reason but the truth was I was curious about the girl who didn't behave like the others. Although it was disconcerting, she was a breath of fresh air. But it made her more dangerous.

"Why?" she asked with a frown as she crossed her arms.

Granted I had used it as an excuse to see her again but to me it was a valid one. Why would she be questioning it? She'd been so drunk and I had been a complete gentleman by taking care of her the way I had. Some guys would have tried to take advantage.

"It was just one night. Why would you need to check up on me?" she asked with suspicious eyes.

She wasn't making any sense.

"What are you talking about?" I shook my head.

"Last night was fun and...thanks," she answered, sounding unsure.

Then I began to figure out why she seemed to be on a different page than me. I cocked my head to the side, brushing my lip ring with the tip of my tongue as I studied her.

"How much of last night do you remember?" I asked.

Her hesitation confirmed what I already suspected.

"You don't remember," I murmured as I studied her.

She clasped her hands together then shook her head. "No, I don't."

"Trust me—sleeping with me isn't something you'd forget," I assured her with the usual confidence I had with girls.

She looked at me thoughtfully.

"I don't understand," she finally said. "If we didn't sleep together, why did I wake up in bed with you?"

"You were out of it last night, and you could barely stand," I reminded her.

She frowned slightly.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled as her cheeks heated with embarrassment.

There was still one thing nagging me about the night before. Maybe she would be able to shed more light on it.

"Did you take a drink from someone last night?"

She looked a little confused at my question.

"Why would you ask that?" she asked.

"I don't think you were drunk," I answered cryptically. The thought that someone had tried to give her something to incapacitate her to do something underhanded burned me inside my chest and I folded my arms as I dealt with the negative emotion.

"Do you think someone spiked my drink?" she asked with a frown.

I nodded and watched her reaction.

"Why would someone want to do that?" she asked.

The more time I spent with her the more innocent she came across. Surely spiked drinks would be something she would be aware of.

"You can't be that naive," I said, struggling to believe she didn't know that there were bad people out there who would do bad things to people. All you had to look at was the rape statistics for colleges across the country and it was usually some guy no one ever suspected. Not all bad people looked evil.

It annoyed me that she could have been innocent enough to take a drink from a stranger.

"There are bad people out there. People who will do really bad things given the opportunity," I tried to explain to ensure she never made the same mistake again. Next time I might not be around to stop it.

"That was why I took you up to my room. I don't want to think what would have happened to you if I hadn't," I added, dropping my arms to my sides as my hands balled into fists.

"Thank you," she mumbled, digesting the information.

"You're welcome," I mumbled back, not used to being thanked. Feeling uncomfortable, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans. My eyes dropped to the floor briefly.

"Why was I only dressed in my underwear?" she asked, nervously meeting my gaze.

"You were trying to take advantage of me," I answered, unable to stop the smirk I gave her when I remembered how she'd made it clear she'd wanted me.

She blushed. Her response boosted my confidence.

"I'm sorry." She looked mortified.

"Don't be," I said with a shrug of my shoulders. "If you hadn't been out of it, I probably would have taken you up on the offer."

Her eyes widened in surprise.

Standing in front of her now, I felt the same instant attraction I'd felt for her the night before. My eyes drifted over her, openly appreciating her feminine figure. I knew we would be great together, the sex would be amazing, I could just tell.

"Uh...well...thanks," she stuttered, clasping her hands together nervously.

She acted like she didn't have much experience with guys and I liked that. She wasn't overconfident or clingy. Hell, she'd been the first girl to sneak out of my bedroom while I had slept.

"I'd better go," I told her, needing to put some space between us. The way she affected me with one slight look was enough for my self-preservation to kick in, telling me to get as far away from her as possible.

Despite the warnings, though, I wanted to see her again. I stopped by the door and looked back over my shoulder at her.

"If you ever want to take advantage of me when you're in a sober condition, you know where to find me," I offered with the confident smile that girls swooned over.

She looked transfixed, confirming the effect I'd wanted. I left, allowing the door to slam closed behind me.

On the way back out of the dorm a girl handed me her number and I pocketed it. Before, I would have been interested, but sleeping with her didn't hold the same appeal as it would have before.

Big blue eyes in my memory reminded me of why I was feeling so disjointed. Thinking about her only increased the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I was playing with fire and this was one interlude I wouldn't walk away from unscathed.

************

When I got back to the house Slater was dozing on the sofa. My brief encounter with Taylor was still thrumming through me. The new feeling agitated me. I went to my room and closed the door, needing to be alone so I could keep a handle on my emotions.

I opened up my laptop and tried to concentrate on the assignment I was busy with but I kept reading the same sentence over and over again without the meaning sinking in.

Frustrated, I closed the laptop and stood up. I decided to go downstairs and I slipped into the garage. I had installed a punching bag a few months ago. Not only did I get a workout from it but it helped me work through emotions and memories that were difficult to deal with. I closed my fist and hit the bag. Again and again. Sweat beaded my forehead as I increased the speed of my punches. Left, right. Jab low, jab high.

My muscles tightened and flexed with each movement. My sole focus was hitting the bag as hard as I could, making me block out my emotions with the physical strain.

I stopped for a moment. Breathless, I held on to the bag and tried to catch my breath. Sweat poured down my face so I lifted my shirt and wiped my brow.

When the door that led to the house opened I discarded my shirt on the floor.

"You want to talk about it?" I felt Slater's gaze from the doorway.

"No."

But the door didn't close, and my best friend remained where he was, watching me.

"Someone spiked her drink," I finally admitted.

He knew who I was talking about.

When I finally looked at him, he was looking thoughtfully at me.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, nodding as I tried to catch my breath.

"Who do you think did it?" he asked.

"I don't know." I shrugged. I didn't like that someone had come into my house and tried to do that to an innocent girl. My fists tightened.

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