“Head-butt.”
The top of my head barely reached his padded chin, but I butted it.
“Lawnmower.” His voice was soft, breathy, and I could not, even drawing on every bit of imagination I possessed, picture touching him there to harm him.
I did the move, without the sound effect, blushing full-on, and he let go. Stumbling toward Erin, I would have felt foolish but for the fact that every woman in the room was doing exactly what I’d just done. Except not with a guy whose touch made her insides go hot and liquid. Not with a guy who made her want to turn and be wrapped up in those arms.
My group smiled and patted my shoulders and commended me as if I hadn’t completely frozen in the beginning.
The front bear hug was worse, but for the way Lucas’s eyes dilated slightly when I looked up at him, my chest pressed against his. Like Erin said, he was not unaffected—a knowledge that made me feel both better and worse.
The chokeholds were easier, and I did them without his verbal cues.
And then the class was over, with Ralph encouraging us to practice—carefully—over the coming week. “Next week the guys will be in full body gear, and you’ll be able to clobber the daylights out of ’em, no holds barred.”
Erin and Vickie high-fived, and Ralph beamed at them both, rubbing his palms together. “Bloodthirsty and ruthless. Exactly what I wanna see.”
Chapter 17
I hadn’t attended any Greek events since the Halloween party, and had only seen Buck in passing since the stairwell incident—always within a group, and always in public. When he moved closer, I moved away, as though his very being repelled me, which was true. The mere thought of him still made my mouth go dry and my stomach knot.
In our room, Erin turned after her final mirror check. “He’d better stay the hell away from you or I will whip out the lawnmower on his ass,” she declared.
“That move’s not for ass use,” I joked, hating the tremor that lanced through me at the thought of Buck with his arms banded around me. I hoped Erin was ready to have a shadow, because I didn’t intend to leave her side.
Her arm encircling my shoulders, she turned us both to face the full-length mirror. “We look hot, girlfriend.” Her eyes met mine in the reflection. “Thanks for doing this. The girls have been real supportive, but they’re not you. I feel stronger knowing you’ll be with me.”
I smiled and hugged her to my side. We did look hot. In the shimmery silver dress, with her silver-strappy heels, Erin was her own disco ball. My blue sheath—simply cut in front and the exact shade of my eyes—looked basic if not dull next to Erin, until I turned around. The combination of bass playing and yoga had given me a toned back, and the dress showed it off with a “V” cut almost to the waist. The nosebleed-level black patent slingbacks on my feet negated dull quite a bit all on their own.
Erin did a couple of dance moves. “Let’s go make Chaz wish he was never born.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Oh, Erin. I’m so glad you’re on my side.”
“Damn right, bitch.” She slapped my butt and we grabbed our coats.
In unspoken agreement, we passed the stairwell door and walked down the wide, open front staircase to meet our ride. Everyone we passed gawked—one scrawny freshman tripping on a step, his eyes moving between Erin and me. Luckily, he was going up, so he landed on both hands, practically at Erin’s feet. “Whoa,” he breathed taking her in.
She patted his head as she passed him, crooning, “Aww, how sweet,” like he was a puppy. His adoring expression at her touch indicated that here was a guy willing to put her on a pedestal and treat her like a goddess. I suspected that Erin didn’t want that from a guy nearly as much as she insisted she did.
***
The men of Chaz’s fraternity had gone all out, hanging an actual disco ball and hiring a band. Outfitted in suits, ties, and a hazardous level of confidence, they all looked hotter than hell and every one of them knew it. Two guys from the pledge class were at the door, one hanging coats, the other taking the plus-one invitation Erin handed over and giving us each a strip of tickets for the ‘bar’ set up in the kitchen and a raffle ticket for the table of prizes another pledge watched over.
The prizes were mostly electronic provisions—from iPods to game systems to a 42” flatscreen. “Boys,” Erin scoffed. “Where’s a spa day? Or a Victoria’s Secret shopping spree?” The table guard’s eyes widened in obvious approval of the latter idea.
“Hello, Erin,” a deep voice said. We turned, and there was Chaz, looking amazing in a perfectly-cut charcoal gray suit and red tie that somehow blended perfectly with Erin’s hair. He glanced at me, his eyes warm and friendly. “Hi, Jacqueline.” I sensed no reproach over the fact that their relationship had detonated over Erin standing up for me.
“Hi, Chaz. The place looks awesome.” I answered for both of us while Erin swayed to the music and waved at friends, as though her ex didn’t exist. The theme of the Bash this year was Saturday Night Fever. The band shifted from playing a Keith Urban cover to a Bee Gees song—something popular when my parents were in grade school, maybe.
Chaz glanced around perfunctorily, his eyes returning to me. “Thanks,” he said, and then he only had eyes for Erin. Watching the people already dancing, she snagged a full red cup from a passing guy with a handful of them. He started to protest, but Chaz glared, daring him to say a word to her. He buttoned his lip and kept moving.
While she sipped and pretended to be oblivious to his presence, he stared at her. It was obvious where he wanted this to go, and the fact that Erin was conspicuously gazing anywhere but at him told me she was anything but immune. They didn’t move from each other’s orbits the rest of the night, but he didn’t attempt to speak to her again, either.