Hustle (Sample and Bonus Chapters)

Warning (Drew POV Bonus Chapter)

***slightly different than the first draft version, it's pulled from the events of the published version***

She's turned me into a creep. I know that's what I'm being, but I can't stop. I pull her close and close my eyes, enjoying the feel of her warm body pressed to mine, the way her hair smells of something clean and fruity-- it's stronger than the alcohol.

I'm a fucking creep. But passed out or not, I can't let her go. And I can't stop touching her.

My fingers skim the skin of her lower back at the edge of her sweater, but there's no reaction from her. There's no reaction as I slip my other hand into her hair and tilt her head back so I can see her face. She's gone to the world, open to me, and I could do anything.

I can't stomach the idea. Can't stand that I'm tempted to press my lips to hers and steal a moment. The memory of her hands fumbling with the elastic of my shorts earlier frustrates me, even more so since it's got me aching for a part of her she never meant to offer.

I roll to my back, my hands behind my head as I stare through the dark at the ceiling fan, avoiding her while I calm my thoughts.

But my thoughts are a storm. She'd said she was drunk enough that I could take advantage. I could. I wouldn't. But others might have, if I hadn't shown up first.

I suck down the urge to shake her awake and yell at her. To question if she's done this before, like Scott's frat brother said. But no, she warned me about the rumors from her high school. That's all they were. Still, I'd prefer her tears right now to her passed out silence. My anger only burns higher in the quiet room. She'd been stupid tonight. And closer than she knew to getting in trouble for it. But I showed up first. He didn't. Thank fuck.

I can't take a deep enough breath to soothe my growing rage. That preppy bitch was too bold tonight, claiming to be better than me for her. What the fuck does he know. Nothing. And that's a good thing, because if he had known that half of what he said was the truth, I'm sure he would have made it to her first. If he had known that I had already fucked up, then he probably wouldn't' have even been at that Sorority party with Tatum, he would have been with her. Brook.

I turn my head towards the sleeping girl and the fire in me smothers to a depressing smoke, heavy through my veins. I'd fucked up. More than once. Kept saying the wrong things to her, and not trying like I should have. I'd stayed away this week, and she sought me out. It should have been the other way. And even after that, I still avoided her. Tried to distance myself. Tried to give space to the way she made me feel. But that constant, nagging urge to see her—talk to her— never went away.

I'd fucked up.

But she was here.

Maybe it was only the alcohol that made her leave with me so easily. Made her so willing, eager even, to come to my bed, to take off my clothes. It had to be the alcohol. It was definitely the reason she laid passed out by my side now.

She's by my side, in my bed. Now. I roll towards her with a sigh, releasing the worry I can't do anything about right now. Maybe she'd be gone in the morning. Maybe she'd be mad then. If she wasn't, she would be, after everyone else tells her about tonight. About Tatum and me. That eager little frat fuck is probably foaming at the mouth to tell her what he thinks he knows. But no one there knows the truth. Only Tatum and I know what happened in that room, but the fucked up thing is, even if I told what happened, people wouldn't listen. They'd still think what they want. So for now, I'll take this moment, this illusion with Brooklyn, before it disappears when she wakes up.

I tuck her limp body to my side, resting my head on top of hers, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo as I close my eyes. My hands can't stop moving over her body, over her clothes, as I sink into the calm she gives, achieving something close to sleep, but never fully giving into unconsciousness. Always aware of her at my side, in my arms. Absorbing every moment of it as the night gives way to early morning. The time passing too quick.