He was cute enough, thought Ramsay as she studied what's-his-name's profile in the dim light of the hallway. He was a philosophy major, which meant that he was probably moody. He certainly didn't seem like the frat house party type, but here he was at a Phi Delta Theta party, and Ramsay was becoming rather fond of his dark, thick-rimmed glasses and the blond stubble along his jaw. At the moment he was looking at her the way Seth had looked at her the night of her eighteenth birthday party--as if he wanted to swallow her whole. But thanks to the slight buzz her rum and coke had given her, she couldn't for the life of her recall his name.
"Ramsay," he said, his gaze traveling quickly from her hair to her mouth. "Tell me how you wound up with a name like 'Ramsay.'"
"It's my middle name, actually," she replied. His eyes were quickly glazing over. His mouth was only inches from hers. He would be moving in a for a kiss at any moment. She felt her stomach turn a flip. "I'm not all that fond of my first name." She looked away and took another sip of her drink. She would play coy until he grew impatient.
He tentatively stroked her forearm. "You could make any name beautiful," he murmured. "But for the record, I think 'Ramsay' is a pretty sexy name."
She smiled. Perhaps this little conversation about first names would save her from having to admit that she had no idea what his name was. She looked at his mouth. It was different from Seth's; the lips were thinner, less sensual. But she wondered what kissing them would feel like nonetheless. "What about you? How do you feel about your first name?"
"Hi, Ramsay."
Ramsay stiffened instantly and nearly spilled her drink on what's-his-name. It was Seth. Had she not been (mostly) sober, she might have questioned her senses. How on earth had he known where to find her? She blinked at him, mouth agape.
"Are you okay?" he asked as he placed a warm hand on her shoulder. She went on looking at him. "Would you like to introduce me to your friend?" He looked affably at what's-his-name, whose smile had vanished the moment Seth approached.
Oh shit, thought Ramsay. She was going to wreck her chances with the philosophy major--or at least whatever chance Seth's appearance hadn't already wrecked. She looked helplessly at Seth, who seemed to find her silence amusing.
"Hi, I'm Seth," he said, holding his hand out to what's-his-name. "Ramsay's boyfriend."
Ramsay stiffened again and shot Seth a fierce glare. Why her sister's 25-year-old ex-boyfriend was calling himself her boyfriend was a complete mystery; at any rate, her chances with what's-his-name were shot, and she couldn't figure out why Seth was being so possessive. True, she had slept with him a week after he'd dumped her sister--she had run into him at a bar on the night of her birthday party and drunkenly begged him to relieve her of her virginity--but even though he had made a habit of seeing her nearly every day, he had not so much as intimated that he wanted to pursue a relationship.
"I'm Brett," said the philosophy major.
"Hey, Brett, how do you know Ramsay?" His tone had suddenly grown icy.
"Uh--"
"Are you study buddies?" Seth's arms snaked around her waist as he continued to grin at Brett, who was now scanning the room for an escape from this pickup attempt gone awry.
Ramsay slapped ineffectually at Seth's arms. "You're embarrassing me," she snarled.
Seth appeared not to hear her. "Yeah, man, Ramsay here just turned eighteen a couple of weeks ago. Wanna know what I gave her for her birthday?"
"Seth, shut up!" She clawed at his forearms and landed a sharp kick to his shin. He hissed. "I'm sorry, Brett, just go enjoy the party." Brett chuckled nervously and started to step away.
"I fucked her, man!" said Seth. A clique of nearby sorority girls turned to look. "Hey, Brett, I fucked her until she could barely fuckin' walk!" Brett was beating a hasty retreat to the kitchen.
Ramsay kicked him again. The vise grip on her waist tightened. Seth's hot breath was on her ear.
"You don't want to make me any madder, sweetheart."
"Seth, let me go," she said, attempting a conciliatory tone. "Please."
The iron grip loosened. She turned back to look at him. He grabbed her hand without another word and led her to the nearest exit. They walked to his car.
"Are you okay to drive?" she asked, scanning his face for signs of drunkenness. She'd never known him to drink heavily, but then she'd never known him to cause a scene at a party, either.
"Yeah, I'm totally sober." He fastened his seatbelt and looked across the street at the line of freshly trashed fraternity houses. "I could never have found this fucking place drunk" He fastened his seatbelt. "Now how the hell do we get out of here? Jesus, I hate driving on campus."
***
Ramsay waited until they were back in the business district to talk. "Seth, how did you know I was at that party?" She refrained from asking the really pressing question, which was why he had introduced himself as her boyfriend.
"Not important. You shouldn't have been there."
"Where are we going?"
"My place."
Ramsay felt her stomach drop. She needed time to think, to process what had happened at the party, and she knew that very little thinking would take place at his apartment. "Uh, no, we're not."
"Uh, yes, we are," he mocked.
She looked at his profile. His dark brown stubble was thick. It reminded her of the whisker burn she had discovered all over her chest and between her thighs the morning after her birthday party. The sight of his face nestled between her legs had been almost as arousing as the almost unbearable jolts of pleasure his tongue had given her. The memory of it made her stomach turn somersaults. She didn't dare look at his lips.
"See anything you like?" He looked over at her and winked. She blushed, almost fearing that he had read her thoughts, and remained silent.
"So, how 'bout that Brett?" he asked with mock cheerfulness.
"Can we just drop the whole thing, please?" She turned away and looked at the brightly lit shop windows, many of which were already decked out for the holidays.
"No problem." He reached over and squeezed her leg gently. "Just tell him that if he ever touches you again, he'll very much wish he hadn't."