More Than a Memory by Marie James Read Free Book Online

button.
    “What do you do for fun?” He places the remote out of my reach on the table.
    “Sleep,” I quip.
    “Sleep is a necessity, not a means of entertainment.” His lips twitch and I contemplate asking him to tone his sex appeal down a notch, but I’m not certain he even realizes how tempting he is.
    “Naps are the highlight of my day,” I tell him. “I look forward to every one I take. Sometimes I’m thinking about my next nap when I’m dozing off for a current nap.”
    He shakes his head, but a beautiful smile lights his face. Colgate commercial, anyone?
    “Are you afraid to be around people? Is that another part of your germaphobia?”
    I gawk at him, my hackles rising further the longer this conversation continues. “Germaphobia? Just because I like things clean does not mean I’m a damn germaphobe. And for your information, I’m not anthrophobic either.”
    “I don’t know what that word means, but your brain is incredibly sexy. Do you know lots of big words?” His smirk forces me to realize he’s messing with me.
    “Do you always flirt your way out of situations your mouth gets you into?”
    “I usually use my mouth to get me out of those same situations.” I watch, riveted, as he licks his lips.
    “Not gonna work this time, buddy.”
    “Too bad,” he whispers before rising to his feet and walking out.
    Guilt isn’t too far behind the closing of the front door. I know my decision to stay away from him is the right one, but it seems like I almost gravitate toward him. I fire up the TV as a means to ignore the thoughts going through my head.
    The guilt triples when my daily alarm goes off, reminding me it’s time for Duncan. I feel lower than dirt when I silence the alarm and make no move to turn on my laptop.

Chapter 8
Bryson
    “ W here exactly is this party ?”
    Liam settles into the passenger seat of my truck as I pull away from his dorm room.
    “It’s a Sigma Chi party,” he says.
    “A frat party? That’s where we’re headed?” I don’t have an issue with frat guys, but they tend to stick together and aren’t very welcoming to guys they think are there to poach their girls.
    “Sigma house has two sororities across the street. The Delta Phi Lambda is stuffed full of women. Those bitches are smoking hot and easier to fuck than hookers.”
    I cut my eyes over to him. “My sister is a Delta at Washington State,” I inform him through gritted teeth.
    “Is she hot and easy?” Liam asks with a lopsided grin.
    “Do you have a death wish?” I snarl.
    He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Calm down, dude. It was a joke.”
    He wasn’t joking when he said it, but by the tone of his voice, I can tell he now regrets the words. I narrow my eyes and turn my gaze back to the road, deciding to let it slide this time. One more mention of my sister, though, and I’ll lay his ass out.
    “Turn up here,” he says, pointing to a row of taillights. “We might as well park down here and walk to the house. Probably won’t be able to find anything closer.”
    Pulling into a grassy field, I park between two other cars, the owners unloading and grabbing things out of the trunks.
    The walk to the Sigma house is quick. Music blares through the sound system and out the front door. Hips gyrate to the heavy bass on the porch and across the sloping lawn. My eyes skirt across the crowd, short skirts, high heels, and barely-there shirts—if you can call them that—fill my line of sight. Women have to make up at least two-thirds of the party, from what I can see, all different levels of inebriation, their tits and ass on display for anyone who’s not blind. I nod in approval as couples pair off and find dark corners to make out in. A ball player I recognize from practice hands me a beer, and I twist the top. As I take a long pull, my eyes dart back and forth, trying to decide where I should post up for a while.
    A warm hand slides up my back, and I grin, turning toward the attention.
    “Hey