Lost to You by - (best non fiction books to read txt) 📖

where it was happening and where I wanted to be.

Sam’s was often it.

“I see what you mean,” I told him, letting my gaze move along a ton of girls wearing next to nothing.

“I knew you would,” he said, setting a hand on my shoulder and beginning to lead me back through the crowd.

“Christian, good to see you finally showed up.” Jon gestured with his chin, clapped me on the back as I passed. “Where have you been all night?”

I lifted both hands with a shrug, could feel the smirk splitting my face. “Studying.”

“Ah . . . sure you were.” He laughed and went back to his beer and the girl hanging on his arm.

There were quite a few people I recognized.

These kind of Friday nights had become my regular.

The same faces.

The same welcome.

I shook hands with a couple guys and hugged a few girls.

Tom continued to shout in my ear about who was where and what had been happening, the girls who’d asked for me.

Asshole made a good wingman, that was for sure.

“Christian, my man.” Sam smiled as I approached. He slung his arm around my shoulders and maneuvered us around a group of people I’d never seen before.

At the kitchen entrance, he stopped and waved inside. “There’s a keg and lots of ladies. Make yourself at home.”

“Sure thing.”

I always did.

I grabbed a red cup, filled it until foam overflowed at the sides, and downed it in one breath.

The beer was a little too warm as it glided down my throat, but it wasn’t enough to keep me from refilling my cup.

I chatted with a couple people in the kitchen, drank a couple more beers, and refilled my cup again before I wove back out into the main room.

Music pumped through the room.

It amplified the slight buzz I felt coming on.

I sat down onto the floor with my back propped up on the couch, my knees drawn up with my feet flat on the ground and breathed out a sigh of relief.

One night a week, I allowed myself to forget it all.

All the pressures my parents piled on me.

The push to be the best.

The drive to always work harder.

For these few hours, I didn’t allow the words my father had drilled into my brain my entire life affect me.

I just . . . forgot.

Joked around with a few of the guys I’d kind of gotten to know. And if I hooked up with some girl?

Yeah, I wasn’t going to complain about that, either.

I snorted at myself.

Really, that was the goal. Hang out with the guys and then go home with someone.

One single intention.

Just feeling good for a few hours.

Sam and Tom stood on the other side of the coffee table, provoking each other, little jabs and shoves, the two so blitzed out neither could stand up straight.

I knew what was coming.

The two couldn’t seem to keep from making fools of themselves. I was always glad I remained on this side of the show, there to make fun of them for the stupid things they did.

I wondered how many brain cells I lost every weekend just being in their presence.

The sad thing was, I actually enjoyed it. Especially when I’d gotten a few beers in my system, and I was feeling as loose as I was right then.

A slight numbness weighted my arms and legs, and a dull thrum hummed in my ears.

“I think shots are in order,” Sam announced. He disappeared into the kitchen and emerged a minute later with a bottle of tequila and plastic shot glasses.

“Who’s up for a friendly wager? Last one standing gets the pot,” Sam said, offering up a challenge.

Every weekend, it was the same.

Tom and a couple other guys each tossed down twenties. As always, I passed, though I partook in the pouring and slammed three shots myself.

The room spun a little, and I scrubbed both palms over my face and tried to focus. There was movement at my side, and I looked to the spot where the toe of a heeled boot tapped my thigh.

My gaze traveled up the long body.

Lisa stood there, her full lips pulled into a flirty smile, her tanned legs exposed below the mini skirt she wore. “Mind if I join you?”

I grinned.

This. This was what I needed. Something to undo the knot Elizabeth had tied so tight inside me. The alcohol barely disguised it, distorted an ache I didn’t entirely understand.

All I knew was I had to satisfy it.

I inched over to make Lisa room. “Not at all.”

I’d hung out with her before, had actually had real conversations with her a time or two. She was nice enough, maybe a little out of place here, like she was testing herself, learning who she wanted to be.

She’d been the one who’d come after me the first time, not that I minded. She seemed pretty laid back, easy in every sense of the word. We got along just fine.

My blurred gaze fixated on her thighs as she awkwardly climbed down to settle beside me. She twisted her torso, just enough that when I looked her direction, we were face to face, nose to nose. I realized how hot I was right then, how my skin tingled and need coiled in the pit of my stomach.

Fingers traveled up my shirt, fluttered across my chin, her mouth a breath from mine. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

“You were, huh?” Cocking my head, I looked into the brown eyes staring back at me. They were completely the wrong kind of brown, dark chocolate and rimmed in black.

Not light and tinged with honey. Not knowing and kind.

I blinked the thought away.

“I was hoping you would be here, too,” I mumbled at the side of her face, my nose brushing the length of her jaw.

Of course, she hadn’t really crossed my mind since the last time I left her apartment more than four weeks ago.

She ran her fingers through my hair, kissed across my face, and murmured at my ear, “I missed—”

I didn’t give her time to finish. I just covered her mouth with mine to cut off whatever words she was going to say that would ruin the understanding we had. I kissed her for what felt like forever, my senses filled with the sting of heavy perfume and a thickness that had my pulse beating erratically.

I fought whatever I was feeling.

It was this ridiculous sensation that urged me to push her away.

Ignoring it, I kissed her deeper, swept my tongue against hers, and dipped my hands into her brown hair.

With a short gasp, she broke the kiss. “Wanna go back to my place?” she asked with her body pressed up against mine. Loud music pulsed against our skin, driving the need higher inside of me, something foreign and unpleasant.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

That’s all I wanted, to get out of there, to remove myself from what was gnawing under the surface of my skin.

I climbed to my feet and stretched my hand out to help her stand. With her hand in mine, I dragged her through the mass.

Tom stood near the door, talking too loud and too close to some poor girl’s face. He glanced up as I approached, a knowing smirk overtaking his mouth. “See you next weekend, man.”

I didn’t reply, just raised my hand over my head to announce my goodbye and got Lisa out of there as fast as humanly possible.

The second we were in the hall, her mouth was on my chin and moving over my jaw. Her hand smoothed its way over my chest, up my neck, and into my hair.

My hands dove back into her hair, and I was kissing her and stumbling back as we made our way down the hall.

Seconds later, she had me in the elevator. The low bleep of the button indicated we’d made it to the seventh floor. I backed down her hall, my hands on her hips as I edged us toward her apartment. My back hit her door with a thud.

“Christian,” she mumbled.

I was pinned against the wood.

It burned into my skin, hard and cold.

I realized right then that I was sensing too much, the numbness I craved every weekend absent, my hands and mind frantic as I tore at Lisa to get her closer.

But it was Elizabeth’s face in my head. Her soft skin under my hands. My fingers digging into her hips.

I jerked my face back from Lisa, raised it to the ceiling, and sucked in a breath as I forced the image aside.

Lisa’s mouth went to my exposed neck as she blindly