The Score
Page 72
Just as I give him a gentle shove to spur his sexy ass into gear, a familiar voice echoes behind us.
“Hey, Allie.”
My hand freezes against Dean’s chest. I quickly let it drop to my side, then turn around to greet the approaching figure. It’s Jim Paulson, one of Sean’s frat brothers. My nerves flutter in my belly as I wonder how much he heard. And saw…
Shit. Did he see me kiss Dean?
“Hi,” I say, forcing a smile. “How was your Thanksgiving?”
“It was all right.” Jim’s gaze flicks toward Dean. “Hey, man.”
“Hey,” Dean says tightly.
“Where are you guys coming from?” His unmistakably suspicious gaze lands on my suitcase.
“New York,” I answer casually. “Dean’s from Manhattan and I’m from Brooklyn, so we carpooled. Go, environment!” I pretend to wave a little flag, but Jim doesn’t even crack a smile.
“Cool.” He continues to study me. “Uh, so yeah…nice seeing you.”
His parting smile is friendly enough, but as I watch him walk away, I can’t control the ball of dread that lodges in my throat. Fuck. I have a very, very bad feeling about this encounter. There’s no doubt in my mind that Jim will tell Sean about it. A part of me doesn’t care, because Sean’s not my boyfriend anymore.
Even so, the anxiety eddying in my stomach refuses to go away, and I know I’m going to be worrying about this all fricking day. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.
*
The shoe drops at one in the morning. It drops hard. No, it drops loudly. As in, I’m rudely awakened from a deep sleep to noisy pounding on the door.
I sit up and frantically look around, because it takes my not-yet-alert brain a few seconds to comprehend what’s going on. Once it registers that the sounds are coming from the front door, I fly out of my bedroom and stagger into the common area. Two shadowy figures stumble out of Hannah’s room at the same time. My sleepy roommate and her boyfriend halt abruptly when they spot me.
Bang.
Bang bang bang.
“What the hell?” Garrett sounds groggy as he turns his head toward the noise.
My pulse speeds up when I hear Sean’s voice.
“Allie!” he shouts from behind the door. “I know you’re in there! Let me in, goddamn it!”
Just like that, Garrett is wide awake and marching to the door. I squeak in alarm, but he doesn’t open it—he simply pounds his fist against it a couple times. “Shut the hell up, asshole. You’re going to wake up everyone on the floor.”
“Like I give a shit!” comes Sean’s furious reply. “I need to talk to Allie.”
“Then pick up the phone and call her like a normal, sane person,” Garrett snaps. “And do it tomorrow morning. Allie’s asleep.”
Hannah moves beside me and rests a hand on my arm. My skin is ice cold and I know she feels it, because she gives a soft, comforting stroke. “Garrett will get rid of him,” she whispers.
But she’s underestimated Sean’s stubbornness. “She’s not asleep,” he snaps back. “I know my girlfriend—”
Ex-girlfriend! I almost yell.
“—and she’s standing right behind the fucking door, I know she is.” The pounding picks up again. Bang. Bang bang bang. “Allie! Open the door! We need to talk!”
I flinch. Hannah wraps one arm around my shoulders.
“Bang on this door one more time and I’m calling the fucking cops,” Garrett hisses out.
Bang bang bang.
My throat squeezes shut. Goddamn it. He won’t go away. I know he won’t, and I’m suddenly overcome with visions of campus security and a police brigade swarming Bristol House like a SWAT team taking out a bank robber. Which wouldn’t just be mortifying, but completely disruptive. From that point on, everyone in this dorm will think of me as the chick with the insane ex-boyfriend.
“Let him in,” I say weakly.
Garrett whirls around, his gray eyes blazing. “No fucking way, Allie. He’s drunk.”
“I know, but he’ll calm down once he’s inside.” My shoulders droop unhappily. “He’ll stay out there all night, Garrett. Just let him in and I’ll talk him down. I can handle this, I promise.”
Hannah’s boyfriend remains skeptical. I don’t blame him. Sean is absolutely acting like a crazy person right now. But I spent four years with the guy, and I know he’s all bark and no bite. He would never hurt me in the physical sense.
Garrett points a finger at me. “If he tries anything, I’ll beat the shit out of him.”
I nod.
Cursing under his breath, he flicks the lock and eases the door open. I half expect Sean to barrel inside and do a somersault before popping to his feet, like an army commando on a mission. But he enters with slow, labored steps that match his ragged breathing. His brown eyes instantly seek me out.
“We need to talk,” he mutters.
Garrett has glued himself to Sean’s side. Hannah has glued herself to mine.
I gulp nervously, easing myself out of my best friend’s grip. “Can you guys give us a minute?”
“Absolutely not.” Garrett’s expression is awash with disbelief.
“Please. It’s okay. We’re just going to talk.” I shoot Sean a pointed look. “Right?”
His jaw tightens, but he nods. “Right. Just wanna talk.”
Several seconds drag by. Then Garrett swears again and scowls at Sean. “Don’t do anything stupid, man. You so much as look at her the wrong way and the only thing you’ll be talking to is my fist.”
Sean’s head dips in another nod. Hannah’s boyfriend has about five inches and fifty pounds on him, and it’s obvious Sean takes the threat seriously.
Hannah squeezes my arm. “We’ll be in my room. Shout if you need us.”
I don’t think it’ll reach that point. Sean seems to have calmed down, his breathing steady, his gaze no longer burning with malice. The moment Hannah’s door closes, he sinks onto the couch and makes a low, agonized noise.
“Dean Di Laurentis?” he moans, and the hurt and betrayal flashing in his eyes cuts into me like a dull blade. “Are you kidding me, Allie?”
My pulse races as I step closer. I don’t sit beside him. I stand in front of him, knees locked, arms crossed tight to my chest, because my whole body is shaking so hard it’s the only way to stop from swaying on my feet. I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.
“Hey, Allie.”
My hand freezes against Dean’s chest. I quickly let it drop to my side, then turn around to greet the approaching figure. It’s Jim Paulson, one of Sean’s frat brothers. My nerves flutter in my belly as I wonder how much he heard. And saw…
Shit. Did he see me kiss Dean?
“Hi,” I say, forcing a smile. “How was your Thanksgiving?”
“It was all right.” Jim’s gaze flicks toward Dean. “Hey, man.”
“Hey,” Dean says tightly.
“Where are you guys coming from?” His unmistakably suspicious gaze lands on my suitcase.
“New York,” I answer casually. “Dean’s from Manhattan and I’m from Brooklyn, so we carpooled. Go, environment!” I pretend to wave a little flag, but Jim doesn’t even crack a smile.
“Cool.” He continues to study me. “Uh, so yeah…nice seeing you.”
His parting smile is friendly enough, but as I watch him walk away, I can’t control the ball of dread that lodges in my throat. Fuck. I have a very, very bad feeling about this encounter. There’s no doubt in my mind that Jim will tell Sean about it. A part of me doesn’t care, because Sean’s not my boyfriend anymore.
Even so, the anxiety eddying in my stomach refuses to go away, and I know I’m going to be worrying about this all fricking day. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.
*
The shoe drops at one in the morning. It drops hard. No, it drops loudly. As in, I’m rudely awakened from a deep sleep to noisy pounding on the door.
I sit up and frantically look around, because it takes my not-yet-alert brain a few seconds to comprehend what’s going on. Once it registers that the sounds are coming from the front door, I fly out of my bedroom and stagger into the common area. Two shadowy figures stumble out of Hannah’s room at the same time. My sleepy roommate and her boyfriend halt abruptly when they spot me.
Bang.
Bang bang bang.
“What the hell?” Garrett sounds groggy as he turns his head toward the noise.
My pulse speeds up when I hear Sean’s voice.
“Allie!” he shouts from behind the door. “I know you’re in there! Let me in, goddamn it!”
Just like that, Garrett is wide awake and marching to the door. I squeak in alarm, but he doesn’t open it—he simply pounds his fist against it a couple times. “Shut the hell up, asshole. You’re going to wake up everyone on the floor.”
“Like I give a shit!” comes Sean’s furious reply. “I need to talk to Allie.”
“Then pick up the phone and call her like a normal, sane person,” Garrett snaps. “And do it tomorrow morning. Allie’s asleep.”
Hannah moves beside me and rests a hand on my arm. My skin is ice cold and I know she feels it, because she gives a soft, comforting stroke. “Garrett will get rid of him,” she whispers.
But she’s underestimated Sean’s stubbornness. “She’s not asleep,” he snaps back. “I know my girlfriend—”
Ex-girlfriend! I almost yell.
“—and she’s standing right behind the fucking door, I know she is.” The pounding picks up again. Bang. Bang bang bang. “Allie! Open the door! We need to talk!”
I flinch. Hannah wraps one arm around my shoulders.
“Bang on this door one more time and I’m calling the fucking cops,” Garrett hisses out.
Bang bang bang.
My throat squeezes shut. Goddamn it. He won’t go away. I know he won’t, and I’m suddenly overcome with visions of campus security and a police brigade swarming Bristol House like a SWAT team taking out a bank robber. Which wouldn’t just be mortifying, but completely disruptive. From that point on, everyone in this dorm will think of me as the chick with the insane ex-boyfriend.
“Let him in,” I say weakly.
Garrett whirls around, his gray eyes blazing. “No fucking way, Allie. He’s drunk.”
“I know, but he’ll calm down once he’s inside.” My shoulders droop unhappily. “He’ll stay out there all night, Garrett. Just let him in and I’ll talk him down. I can handle this, I promise.”
Hannah’s boyfriend remains skeptical. I don’t blame him. Sean is absolutely acting like a crazy person right now. But I spent four years with the guy, and I know he’s all bark and no bite. He would never hurt me in the physical sense.
Garrett points a finger at me. “If he tries anything, I’ll beat the shit out of him.”
I nod.
Cursing under his breath, he flicks the lock and eases the door open. I half expect Sean to barrel inside and do a somersault before popping to his feet, like an army commando on a mission. But he enters with slow, labored steps that match his ragged breathing. His brown eyes instantly seek me out.
“We need to talk,” he mutters.
Garrett has glued himself to Sean’s side. Hannah has glued herself to mine.
I gulp nervously, easing myself out of my best friend’s grip. “Can you guys give us a minute?”
“Absolutely not.” Garrett’s expression is awash with disbelief.
“Please. It’s okay. We’re just going to talk.” I shoot Sean a pointed look. “Right?”
His jaw tightens, but he nods. “Right. Just wanna talk.”
Several seconds drag by. Then Garrett swears again and scowls at Sean. “Don’t do anything stupid, man. You so much as look at her the wrong way and the only thing you’ll be talking to is my fist.”
Sean’s head dips in another nod. Hannah’s boyfriend has about five inches and fifty pounds on him, and it’s obvious Sean takes the threat seriously.
Hannah squeezes my arm. “We’ll be in my room. Shout if you need us.”
I don’t think it’ll reach that point. Sean seems to have calmed down, his breathing steady, his gaze no longer burning with malice. The moment Hannah’s door closes, he sinks onto the couch and makes a low, agonized noise.
“Dean Di Laurentis?” he moans, and the hurt and betrayal flashing in his eyes cuts into me like a dull blade. “Are you kidding me, Allie?”
My pulse races as I step closer. I don’t sit beside him. I stand in front of him, knees locked, arms crossed tight to my chest, because my whole body is shaking so hard it’s the only way to stop from swaying on my feet. I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.
