Night Stand

I sure as hell didn't need another. If you don't let them in, they can't hurt you. It was simple. He sighed. "Look, I've known her since we were in day-care.

I've only seen her as a friend, as a sister, for a long time now. But, yeah, she was the hottest, most popular, coveted girl, at school.

Probably because she didn't give many people an actual shot, and that was before."

"I don't see it," I said instead of asking more questions.

"The hottest, most popular shit. I don't see it."

"You wouldn't. Not anymore."

He chuckled, but it sounded sadder than the previous.

"She was…different back then. Social. Alive." Alive.

"What happened?" He inhaled sharply.

"Let's just say she's on the official 'do not call dibs' list."

"What happened?"

Pres hadn't asked me why the fuck I was asking so many questions, but he blinked at the bite in my tone.

"I know she's not your type, so I don't need to tell you this, but I'll say it anyway. She'll never fall at your feet, won't hook up with you for the hell of it, and won't want to be another notch on your bedpost."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Is she a lesbian?"

"No." Pres rolled his eyes, and he leveled me with a serious look. "I mean it, Lach.

She's been through enough. If you see her, don't bother." He turned and waved at someone.

"That's her roommate. She's more your type."

I looked up and saw a pretty brunette with big tits wave back. The way she looked at me told me she'd be over here soon enough. I mulled over what he'd said.

I didn't like that he assumed Lyla wasn't my type. He could have simply meant that she wasn't someone who would be down for a fuck, two max.

In which case, she wasn't my type. I'd never been told to stay away from anyone, though, and I didn't like it.

She seemed unbreakable, which made sense. You can only truly break someone once. Everything after that is just chipping at pieces. I wanted him to tell me what happened to Lyla James, but the roommate was already in front of us. She gave Prescott a quick hug and turned to me. I didn't have a type, not really. For years, I'd been fucking girls from behind anyway.

Not to say I didn't do other things, but when it came to actual fucking, it was something I did to set a clear boundary.

"I'm Marissa."

"Lachlan."

"Oh, I know who you are." She smiled, her dark brown eyes roaming up and down my body. Unlike her roommate, Marissa looked like she wanted to climb me right here, which did nothing for me tonight.

"Ah, shit. I have to handle this." Prescott pushed off the wall and rushed over to an argument brewing between his ex and the woman.

"That's going to get messy," Marissa said.

"It'll be a nightmare." I watched Pres stand between them and felt bad for the guy. "So…"

Marissa started. I looked at her. She licked her lips.

"I was heading out, and since I'm the only one standing here, I guess I should ask if you want to come with me?"

"Where?"

"To my place." Her smile was slow and seductive.

"Where's your place?"

"Two blocks down."

"Hm." I thought about it.

Really thought about it. Everything about tonight was unprecedented. It wasn't like I fucked every single person who came onto me, but any other night, Marissa would make my list.

"Anyway, my roommate is home, but she's used to company, so that won't be a problem." I set my hand on her lower back.

"Lead the way."

The moment she said roommate, I pushed off the wall and was ready to go. She gave me a look that said this wasn't her first rodeo, which I knew.

Not that I cared. As we walked out, I kept some distance between us. I still hadn't decided what would come of this, but I needed to know where she lived.

Maybe it was an asshole move to use her like this just to get closer to her roommate, but it was the only one I had right now.