Foreplay: The Ivy Chronicles by Sophie Jordan Read Free Book Online Page A

Sometimes I thought she was really into a guy and then she would drop
him for no apparent reason. She once dumped a guy after a third date because he
asked for a doggie bag at dinner. She claimed he was too comfortable with her if
he did that. I didn’t think she cared that this made sense only to her.
Personally, I thought she was scared to get too serious with a guy, but what did
I know? I’d only kissed one guy in my life.
    I crossed the room to the narrow hall leading to
the bathrooms. They were single occupancy and there was usually a line, but not
tonight. Once inside, I dropped the little hook in place, locking the door.
Turning, I caught sight of my reflection and winced. As usual, my hair was out
of control. I tried to arrange the russet-colored waves. Maybe it was time for a
haircut. Layers or something.
    Moments later, I finished washing my hands and
pushed open the thick oak door, immediately spotting Scott waiting outside. At
first I thought he was in line for the men’s room, but the way his gaze trained
on me I realized he was waiting for me.
    “Hey.” He pushed off the wall.
    “Hey,” I murmured, stepping out into the narrow
hall and wishing the light was better. The shadowy space made it feel too
intimate.
    He moved into my path. “Why don’t you and Em come
back to our place?”
    I shook my head. “I have to get up early.” I
didn’t, of course. My shift at the daycare didn’t start until eleven, but he
didn’t know that.
    “Aw. C’mon.” He inched closer.
    My back bumped the wall, rattling the picture
frames and license plates that decorated it. I held up my hands in front of me
as he encroached closer. “Uh, what are—”
    He swept in then, planting his lips on mine. I
froze in shock. His sour tongue pushed between my lips and I gagged. I didn’t
know if he was just too into the kiss and didn’t realize I wasn’t or he didn’t
care. Or he was too drunk. Or maybe he thought I was going to have a change of
heart after another minute of this and start returning his fervor. Whatever the
case, his lips stayed firmly glued to mine, messier and sloppier than my last
kiss. Damn it. You would think things would have improved since tenth grade.
    I squeezed a hand out from between us. Curling my
fingers into a fist, I beat him on the shoulder. He didn’t budge, and that’s
when I felt the first thread of panic. Even as it worked its way through me, I
told myself to stay calm. We were in a public place. What could happen that I
didn’t want to happen? Well, besides a terrible kiss that tasted of sour beer
and didn’t appear to be ending anytime soon.
    I hit his shoulder harder with my free hand. He
held me so tightly I couldn’t get my other arm out from between us.
    Then he was gone. Just like that.
    I sagged against the wall, dimly registering that
the corner of a particularly jagged license plate scratched my neck. Funny I
hadn’t noticed that before. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as if I
could rid myself of the unwanted kiss and stepped away from the wall, focusing
on the scene before me.
    Scott was on the floor, and someone stood over him,
gripping him by the front of his shirt. It took me a second to recognize the
back of my bartender—to understand that he was here,
whaling on Scott, helping me. Rescuing me yet again.
    I moved, my feet covering the short distance.
Peering over his shoulder, I gasped at the sight of Scott’s face. He was
bleeding, mostly from the mouth. You couldn’t even distinguish the whiteness of
his teeth amid the wash of blood. I latched onto the bartender’s arm just as it
was pulled back, ready to deliver another punch.
    “No! Stop!”
    He looked down at me, his expression feral, nothing
like its usual blankness. Tension lined his jaw. A muscle ticked in his cheek. I
didn’t know how long he stared down at me with glittering eyes. It felt like
forever before he spoke, before I felt his voice, low and deep, pulse through
me. “Are you all