Jem

I’M STILL WALKING OUT OF the frat, Indigo slung over my shoulder, as we both draw a few eyes. The smoke clears and the flashing lights fade, and I realize that her friend, Mae, is following not far behind. I didn’t think this through, not really, but that’s the thing about impulse. You never really anticipate it.

“Put me down!”

I sigh, and my hand slides across her light wash denim as I set her down in front of me. Turns out that shot from earlier has kicked in properly now, because as soon as Indigo’s sneakers touch the pavement, her knees buckle. I resist the urge to reach out and help, because she steadies herself a few seconds later.

I’m trying to concentrate, but her hair smells sweet—citrusy sweet. She draws her brows together, a now familiar anger slipping into her gaze as she looks up at me. “Why did you do that?”

“I­—”

“Because you wanted to?” Disbelief washes over her features. “So what? You murder someone, and then when they ask you why you did it, you say—”

I grin. “Because I wanted to.”

Obviously, it’s a joke. Violence is always my last resort. But my sarcasm must fly over her head, because she pauses, mouth slightly ajar. “You’re insane.”

“A little,” I say, then, “Did you really want to kiss Moreno that bad? Because if you did, we can go back in there and you can finish the game.”

No reply.

“Did you?” I press.

She tilts her head. “Did I what?”

“Want to kiss him.”

“No.” Then, she frowns, as if realizing something, and sways a little as she turns to me. “But what’s it to you?”

The question catches me off guard, but I play it off with a nonchalant shrug. “I’m still trying to figure that out.”

Technically, it is the truth—I make a mental note to sort through what exactly I want from this—but something in her eyes tells me she doesn’t buy it completely. Fortunately for me, Indie’s little friend is pushing past the crowd at the front to get to us, tearing her attention away from me.

“Mae?” she says, “Mae?” And then she’s walking over, but she has clearly no sense of balance, and she all but trips on her friend, who shakes her head as she tries to steady her.

Indie’s leaning almost all of her uncoordinated weight on Mae, and to be honest? It’s pretty fucking funny. Mae has a smaller frame, so Indigo has a good few inches on her. And when Indigo loops her arms around Mae’s neck and tries to practically jump her, I have to make the conscious decision to not laugh.

“Indigo—” Mae almost loses her balance trying to support both of them, making a brief strangled sound. “Stay still, you stupid—” She doesn’t. “Ugh, Indigo, quit it!”

Eventually, Mae gives up on trying to keep Indie upright. She pries Indigo’s arms off her shoulder, nudging her down to the ground. Then, Mae leans over and angles her index finger in warning. “Stay.”

Indie, whose body probably feels weightless to her, slumps over, a few curls sliding over her face as she tilts her head with an innocent smile. “Fine.”

Then, Mae’s dark eyes slide up to me. “Thanks,” she says, “Sorry about her. She doesn’t usually drink past her limit.”

At this, we both look over at Indigo, who hasn’t been able to sit upright in the thirty seconds Mae left her. The girl’s straight up sleeping on the grass. Like it’s a queen bed or some shit. I’m grinning before I can help it.

“Jesus,” Mae murmurs, more to herself than anything.

I tuck my hands in my pockets. “I can call you two an uber?”

“Nope.” Mae shakes her head. “It’s cool.” Then she pauses, eyeing me. “Why are you being so nice?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

It’s the truth. I’m usually the last person to get involved with girls I don’t plan on sleeping with. And even though I might not have found a girl tonight, now that I’m out of the frat, I don’t plan on going back in.

Mae’s voice is filled with a dull scepticism when she says, “I’ll take her home.”

Then, Indigo lifts up on her elbows and rubs at her eyes. “I need to pee.”

Mae sighs, pulling out her phone. “Okay. Hold it for a few minutes, alright?”

“Noooo.” Indie groans. “I need to pee right now.”

“There’s a bathroom back inside,” I say.

At this, Indie’s eyes slide to me, and she glowers like she remembers she has to be mad at me. She brings her brows together and wrinkles her nose, drawing all those freckles to the centre of her face.

I lift a brow, and Mae gives me a passing look. “Public toilets are a big no.”

I let out my breath slow, and I can’t believe I’m doing it when I say, “Our place is near.”

Mae makes a face. “Uh....”

“Maeeee. I need to peeeee.”

“Okay, okay,” Mae sighs, turning back to me. “How far is your place?”

“Five-minute walk.”

“Maeeee.”

Mae brings her hand to her temple, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go to your place and then I’ll take her home.”

I nod. Mae walks back to her friend, tugging on Indie’s arm so hard she might rip it from the socket. But she still doesn’t budge off the ground. “Indigo!” Mae yells, “Get up right now or I swear to God, I’m going to kill you.”

Indie laughs. It’s unrestrained and sparkling, and I want to hear it again, but she settles with a lazy smile. “I’m tired.”

“You’re a lightweight, that’s what you are.” Mae kicks her in the side with little force. “Now get your whiny ass up. You want to pee, right?”

“But the grass feels so nice.” Indigo holds up two fingers. “Two more minutes.”

Faintly amused, I walk over and lean down to meet her gaze. She swallows, leaning backward and averting her gaze. “What?”

“Get on my back.”

“Huh?” Her eyes are wide when she looks back at me for a second, pressing her lips together. “No.”

“Fine,” I say, “Stay here.”

I turn and walk away, dead serious. They can follow if they want. Mae seems like she has it all under control. Well, not really, but she’ll figure something out. I’m four steps away when I hear her voice. “Wait.”

I face Indie, but she’s not looking at me when she says, “I’ll come.”

I stall for a few seconds. Is she really worth all this? Fuck it. I guess I’ll never know. I’m walking back over when she mumbles, “Only because I don’t want to get a UTI.”

Mae cringes. I turn, dropping to my knees so Indie can crawl onto my back. When she does, I stand to my full height, my hands under her the back of her knees. She brings her arms around my neck, and even though it’s the second time tonight, this time, it’s…different. This time, her touch doesn’t know peace. It’s chaotic. Messy. And when I feel her soft exhale on my neck, I stop breathing for a second.

I focus on other things, like the glow of the streetlights on the pavement, the rush of the cars that drive past, the exact shade of the black sky. The city is alive, flickering, breathing. There’s people and sounds, laughter and gentle humming, but somehow everything brings me back to the overwhelmingly obvious presence of the girl on my back.

I’m reminded of close her body is right now, pressed up against me. Her slow, gentle intake of breath — how the cool skin of her arms feels around my neck. And just when I think I’m used to it, she leans her cheek against my shoulder and mumbles, “Kidney.”

What? I ignore it, because maybe I’m just hearing things, but then— “Renal pelvis.”

Mae is biting back a smile as she glances at me with a sympathetic look. “It’s anatomy. Just ignore her.”

 “Ureter, urinary bladder, urethra…”

“You’re both in pre-med?” I ask.

“Inferior vena cava, abdominal aorta...”

Mae ignores Indie, nodding. “You?”

“I was in engineering.”

“Was?”

“I dropped out to work at Charley’s.”

 “The motor repair?” Mae scrunches her features. “Why?”

“Common iliac arter, liver, large intestine...”

“Money, mostly.”

I expect her to drop some comment about how I shouldn’t have dropped out, but she just nods and keeps walking. Indigo’s still listing all the components of what I’m pretty sure is the human urinary system. “Adrenal gland vessel, renal artery, renal vein…”

Blood surges to my veins when she adjusts her cheek on my shoulder, and her lips touch my neck unknowingly. “Pelvis.”

Thankfully for my sanity, we’ve reached the white door of our apartment. It’s small, but big enough for two people who spend little time in it. I pass the keys to Mae, and when she unlocks and swings the door open, Eli looks up at us from the couch where —you guessed it, he’s playing a video game.

Then, his eyes settle on the girl on my back, and drift to Mae behind me. His lips spread into a slow grin as he pulls his headset off.

“I see you took the whole threesome thing a little too seriously, Valentine.” His gaze settles behind me, on Indigo. “Seriously? She’s out of it, man. And you never bring girls to the apartment. I thought we agreed this place is sacred.”

I clench my jaw. “Shut the fuck up.”

Turning, I offer Mae a silent apology, and she gives me a look that says we’re even.

I walk over to the bathroom door, but when I try to set Indigo down, she clings to me, trying to sleep on my shoulder. I manage a smile. “I think it’s time for you to put all those body parts you listed to work, sweetheart.”

“Hmm,” she mumbles.

I ease her off me, but she slips off me to the floor, only proceeding to wrap herself —literally all her limbs — around my left leg. Like a spider monkey. I pause for a second, huffing a laugh. This girl’s something else.

I reach down, gently prying her arms off my leg. “Indie, baby.”

She fights me for a good few seconds, groaning the whole time, before she finally separates herself from me, sending me a pretty pissed off glare as she stands.

I offer her a smile in return, opening the door before she stumbles in. I trust that her drunk self knows how to use the toilet and shut the door, heading back to the lounge, where Eli is trying to get Mae to play with him.

Finally, Mae gives in, sitting next to him as he hands her a headset.

“Don’t cry when I win,” she says.

He scoffs, taking a nonchalant sip from his beer bottle.

Fifteen minutes later, she’s close to beating him, and Eli is hyper focused on the screen practically sweating, when I realize that Indigo still hasn’t walked out yet. I walk back to the bathroom, knocking twice on the closed door.

“Hey,” I say, “You still in there?”

When there’s no response, I bite the bullet and open the door. I’m half expecting to find her passed out on the floor, but the bathroom’s empty. I frown. The fuck? The window’s open, but there’s no way she went through there. I walk out, opening Eli’s room door to check. Empty. Worried, I open my door and—there she is, on the bed.

I exhale. She wasn’t lying when she said she was tired. She’s across the bed, half of her face buried in the sheets, her brown curls dangling off the edge of the bed. And standing here in the doorway, I realize I have no fucking idea what to do.

There’s a presence behind me—Mae. She peers into the room and realizes. “Oh, shit,” she says, “I’m sorry. I’ll get her.”

Mae walks past me and to the edge of the bed as she tries to drag her friend off it. It doesn’t work. Indigo doesn’t budge. Mae passes me a frustrated, semi-accusatory look.

I shrug. “Do you really think I told her to sleep on my bed?”

“Even if you did…” Mae’s gaze settles on me “She wouldn’t listen.” She sighs. “Eli has my number. Call me if anything happens.”

I want to ask how they managed to exchange numbers so easily when Eli has been depressed for weeks now, but Mae walks past me before I can get to it. I hear faint conversation out front before the door clicks open, then closes.

I stare at the girl on my bed, wondering how the fuck she ended up on my bed in the first place. Then I stop questioning it, and grab a blanket from the drawer, throwing it over her motionless body. Looks like I’m on the couch tonight. I doubt I’ll be getting any sleep anyway. I pull out a change of clothes and head for the shower.

When I’m done showering, I play a few rounds with Eli, and he doesn’t question why two girls entered and only one left. And I don’t question how Mae kicked his ass and still got his number.

“I’m hungry,” Eli says.

“Eat something then.”

He grimaces. “Nah, I’m too lazy. I’m going to bed.”

He calls it a night and heads to his room. It’s three a.m., and I still can’t sleep, so I stride to the kitchen for marshmallows. That’s when I hear ruffling from the room across the kitchen —my room, and figure she must be awake. She slept for a solid three hour, and my guess is she would’ve gotten more if she didn’t suddenly realize she wasn’t sleeping in her own bed.

When I walk into my room, Indigo is at the corner of the bed, her legs drawn to her chest as she leans back on my headboard. When her gaze drifts down from my face, I realize it’s because I’m not wearing a shirt. I grab one from my drawer, setting down my marshmallows as I pull it over my head.

“Hi,” she says, quietly.

The corners of my mouth lift. “Hi.”

Her eyes linger on my chest before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. “Did we…”

“No.” My grin widens. “You would remember if we did.”

A flush creeps up her neck.

I sit on the chair across from her, stretching my legs out as I lean forward.

“Uh…” The sheets rustle as she fidgets. “Why am I here?”

“You don’t remember?”

She falters, staring at me blankly for a few seconds, and I know it’s the precise moment everything comes crashing down on her, because she groans and buries her face in her hands.

I smile while chewing. “You weren’t that bad.”

Her face is still covered by her hands, so her voice is muffled when she says, “You don’t know even me.”

“Fair enough,” I say, swallowing, “I want to, though.”

Now she’s not hiding behind anything anymore—she’s staring at me with her lips slightly parted. I wonder if she knows how bad I want that mouth on mine. I pop another marshmallow into my mouth and settle my gaze on her round eyes instead. “What’s your last name?”

When she doesn’t answer, I add, “Since you know mine.”

She’s still silent. I take the chance to throw another marshmallow into my mouth. And after a few more empty seconds go by, I’m convinced she isn’t going to give, she says, “Gallagher.”

I look up, surprised. I take a few seconds to play around with it in my mind. Gallagher. Amused, I study her from her across the room. “It’s three am, Indigo Gallagher. And you’re hungover.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

She looks away, but I catch the smile on her lips. “Maybe.”

“Stay,” I say, “It’s late, and I don’t mind if you—”  

 “Okay,” she says, “I’ll stay. But… you don’t have to pretend to care about me, you know. We’re never going to see each other again.”

The corner of my mouth lifts. “A bit presumptuous of you, no?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

“Then tell me anything. Since we’re never going to see each other again.”

“I’m supposed to tell you about myself?” she mumbles, “Where do I even start?”

“The beginning would be nice,” I say, “I have time.”

“Okay,” she says, slowly, like she doesn’t understand why she’s even listening to me in the first place. “I…uh. I have osteochondroma.”

I pause. “Is that English?”

She pulls her lip under her teeth to keep from smiling, rolling her eyes. “It’s an overgrowth of bone or cartilage. I’ve had it since I was a kid.”

“Oh?” I smile. “It’s not contagious, is it?”

I can tell she’s more sober than earlier, because she actually gets the sarcasm this time. Her eyes settle on me, roaming from my hair to the tattoos inked into the skin on my arm. I know she’s on the precipice of asking me a question of her own, so I step in and fill the gap instead.

“I don’t know you,” I say, “but that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed a few things.”

She lifts a brow. “Like what?”

“Your friend’s pretty protective of you.”

“I guess.”

“And your ex is a dick.”

The sides of her mouth lift the slightest degree. “I guess.”

“Why’d you date someone like him?”

She shrinks into herself a little, the light in her eyes dimming. “He’s not always like that.” Her eyes flick up to meet mine. “Didn’t you say Scarlett was nice?”

“She was.”

“Exactly,” she says, “She’s not nice to me. People aren’t two dimensional.”

“Yeah,” I say, “But I’m pretty sure his third dimension is equally dick-ish.”

Indie shakes her head a little, brushing over my bitter comment. She pushes the blanket off her midriff, bringing her knees down to sit cross legged instead. “Why do you like marshmallows so much?”

She’s clearly changing the topic—flipping the narrative so that I’m the one being questioned, but I don’t point it out. Instead, I pick out a marshmallow between my forefinger and thumb, lifting from my chair as I stride over to the edge of the bed, where she’s at. Her eyes follow me, confusion amidst her gaze as she angles to face me.

“Here.” I pull her bottom lip down with my thumb, gingerly fitting the single marshmallow in her mouth. She doesn’t move, and her lips freeze around the marshmallow as she looks up at me from the bed, her brown eyes wide.

It’s enough to send blood rushing through my veins and straight to my groin. Up close, the freckles across her nose and the plane of her cheeks are clearer than ever, and when I reach out to run my thumb over her bottom lip, she shivers. The corner of my mouth lifts. “Swallow.”

She listens—fuck—and her throat shifts as she swallows.

And then I’m leaning down to meet her gaze. “Good?”

She nods silently, then breaks eye contact. A faint blush spreads across her cheeks as she mumbles, “You haven’t given me anything.”

I know what she means. I’ve been asking most of the questions and evading most of hers. She’s figured it out and wants to even the playing ground. I figure I kind of like having the upper hand, but I humor her anyway. “What do you want?”

She clears her throat. “Something.”

“That’s pretty vague, Indigo,” I say, “What do you really want?”

This time, she makes direct, daring eye contact. “Anything.”

“Since we’re never going to see each other again…” I know she knows I’m using her own words against her. I’m leaning over her now, and she edges a little backward, her palms on either side of her, crinkling the sheets. I tilt my head as I consider her. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, right?”

“No.” Her eyes spark as she stares up at me. “It doesn’t.”

I’m thinking her ex was the stupidest person to exist, because it’s three am and Indigo Gallagher is fucking stunning, and I’m wondering how he ever let someone like her go.

I want her. I don’t remember wanting anything more than I want her. She’s looking up at me with soft brown eyes and dark lashes. Her hair smells like citrus, her breath a mixture of liquor and sugar. Her lips are right there, slightly parted and full, and they look so soft.

My right hand sinks into the bed to support myself as I lower myself over her, and we’re both breathing heavy now. Slow and laboured. I press further down, lowering myself until the space between our lips can be measured in milliseconds, and—

My door slams open. “Yo, J, can I warm up this leftover pasta? Because I’m really hungr—”

Indigo startles,