VOL. 2: CHAPTER TWO
I'd been having the time of the my life. The music poured through the building with ease, the rhythm so loud that it almost caused my ears actual pain from listening to it for so long. But I didn't care. This was college—and from the looks of it, college was fun.
A girl I'd ran into by the bar, and almost tossed my drink into her face by accident, had taken me under her wing. She showed the ropes around a shot glass and her closely knit group of friends. She also told me not to trust any of the frat members or anyone who offered me a drink.
I agreed, seeing as this wasn't my first rodeo when it came to house parties. But this was much, much different than my partying experience down in Chicago in my small suburban neighborhood.
The girl from before turns to me, two shot glasses in hand. "Here—let's pregame before Aaron gets here with the liquor." She says, referring to her boyfriend and member of the designated fraternity who had gone out for more beer and liquor.
I take the tiny shot glass into my hand, inspecting the feel and smell for a few moments before turning back to Marianne. "Are you sure you should drink this?" I ask in worry, "aren't you driving everyone home tonight?"
Marianne nods, tipping her head back and gulping down the potent drink. "Yeah, but I'll be fine. And if I get too out of hand Aaron can take over."
My eyebrows raise in suspicion at her words, slightly concerned that she seemed so trusting with a guy who she's only been dating for two months. Then, I surprise myself. I'd only met Marianne a few hours ago and seemed to know just about everything there was to her.
It must've been all the alcohol.
I set down my shot glass, watching the dark-haired girl before me frown. "I'm gonna go find something else to drink—thank you, though."
Marianne seems to say a short, more for me, and then takes my glass and pours it down her throat, too. I don't say anything else, making a beeline straight for the kitchen area of the fraternity house, steering clear of anyone's way as I do so.
Once I'm in the kitchen, I glance to my left, lips craning in disgusting while a boy and girl engage in an intense make out session. I avoid eye contact with either of them, as I pour myself a red cup of ice water.
It feels chilly running down my throat, due to all of the shots Marianne was continuously shoving down my throat beforehand. The water is beyond refreshing.
I can still here the lively music coming from a speak somewhere in the living room, but it isn't as erratic and loud in the kitchen area. I'm silently thankful for this, already feeling a migraine making it's way into my head.
Someone else enters the kitchen, so quietly that I hardly hear them. They open the fridge, and pull out a cold beer, using the silver ring on their finger to pop it open. I'd be lying if I said that the quick movement didn't turn me on the slightest bit.
They seem to finally notice my presence, turning over to me and sending me a quick smile. I don't return the smile, heat rushing to my cheeks. The person let's out a low chuckle, the sound erupting a fluttery sort of feeling in chest.
Who is that?
They take a stance right beside me, sliding their beer onto the kitchen counter. "First time?"
I'm caught off guard by their initiation to conversation. Usually, at a party like this, people didn't really talk to each other. Not unless they already knew one another prior to the party, or they just wanted to hook up. And I wouldn't exactly be opposed if it was the second option, because I definitely didn't know them.
I'd remember a face like that.
"U-Um, what?" The words stupidly fall from my numb lips, the alcohol taking a toll on my speech.
"I asked if it was your first time," they turn their back to the counter, leaning onto it casually. "You know, at a college party."
A short laugh falls from my lips, although I'm not exactly sure why—nothing funny is happening. Gosh, being drunk is exhausting, "no, I've been to a few."
They let out a soft hum in understanding, finishing off the rest of their beer resting in their warm fingertips. Once finished, they return to their full height, tossing the empty glass into the overflowing garbage can beside the fridge. Then, they jut out a hand, as though expecting mine. "I'm Jeremiah—Aaron's friend."
Then, I finally realize who they are. They're the friend who Marianne had told me about just a few hours earlier. The one who played soccer at Michigan State on a full scholarship, drove a Subaru, and was apparently bisexual.
I slide my hand into theirs, my knees almost buckling once feeling their warmth. "I'm Gage—Marianne's friend, I think," they laugh, hands digging into the pockets of their jeans. "She told me about you, you know."
"Oh, did she?" They seem a little more interested now, dark brown eyes never once leaving mine. "And what did she say?"
My cheeks flush once more, while my eyes still never leave theirs. I can tell by the dazed look they posses, that they're probably just as drunk as me. "She said that you really cute and that you were also into guys."
They nod, taking a leisure step closer to me. "Yeah, she said the same thing about you."
My heart begins to hammer in my chest, my lips parting in pure shock and attraction. "S-She talked to you about me, too?"
"Mhm," they agree, taking an even closer step toward me. "But what she failed to say was that you are a sloppy drunk." They end their sentence there, effectively breaking the airy sexual tension between the two of us. Which is probably a good idea considering the fact that we're both drunk.
"Shut up," I laugh, taking a step away from them and almost tripping over my own feet. "I thought you were supposed to be a nice guy—oh, shit, I'm sorry! Do you you go by guy? Because I'm really sorry if I fucked up your pronouns—"
Jeremiah has a funny sort of expression on their face, one that is a combination of laughter and wonder. "Yes, that's fine, you can call me guy and he and him," my chest deflates, a breath of relief following shortly after. "But I also go by they and them, so I'm fine with either."
I nod in understanding, watching as his face is suddenly close to mine again. "And what about you? What do you go by?"
The question catches me off guard—I've never been asked that before. But it feels . . . nice. "Um, he and him is fine."
Jeremiah is suddenly only inches away from my face, the smell of alcohol flooding my senses. My body is sent into haywire, hyper aware of how close a hot guy is to me. The last time I've felt this kind of attraction was months ago when Luca and I were still together.
And all at once I'm craving something I didn't even know I needed.
He seems to feel the same way, his arms pulling themselves free from his Jean pockets and slowly making their way toward me. His eyes are so focused on mine that I almost forget to breathe properly. His fingers loop themselves into the belt loops of my jeans, pulling me in closer.
A gasp slips through my lips, my hands wandering up to grasp his shoulders on their own accord. Jeremiah smirks with parted lips, revealing a line of perfectly straight teeth. He opens his mouth, ready to speak—but I beat him there first.
"Show me your room," my words are so low they're almost a whisper. I'm surprised he hears them over the booming music. "I wanna see your room."
Jeremiah's jaw clenches in obvious sexual frustration, his Adam's apple bobbing with an audible swallow. "Are you sure?"
My tongue darts out to wet my drying lips, catching his attention instantly. "Yes. Yes, I'm so sure."
Within seconds his lips crash onto mine, a deep groan leaving his sultry throat. With one hand planted on his shoulder, the other rushes to grip his jaw that feels prickly beneath my fingertips. His hands grip onto my waist, one hanging dangerously low and near my bottom.
I'd never done anything like this before. Kissing someone without even knowing their last name was a thrill I'd never experienced. But it was one I could get used to—even if I knew this would probably only be a one time thing.
Jeremiah's lips moved rhythmically with mine, his tongue doing things I hadn't even known were possible. My hand eventually made its way into his messy head of curls, his finally reaching down and grabbing onto a handful of my bottom.
The movement has me squealing, him taking the opportunity to move his arms further down my legs, parting them, and lifting me onto his waist. I pull away from the kiss to smile down at him surprised, he doesn't waste another moment—carrying me down the hallway and up a flight of stairs.
Once we reach what looks like his bedroom, he kicks the door open, shutting and locking it behind the two of us. I'm placed down gently onto a plaid blue bedspread, reattaching our lips with a dazed smile.
He pulls away from the kiss, reaching back for the neck of his sweatshirt and pulling it off quickly. A drunken giggle leaves my swollen lips at the sight of his toned chest. His body was much different from Luca's—which was the only one I had already been with, therefore my only comparison.
But t was a good different—a comfortable different.
And when it begins—I don't want it to end.
A/N - So, as all of you can see the sequel is going to be a little different than the first book. Because Gage is older, and he is learning and growing up. But I do hope that you all enjoyed this chapter!!! <3