Foreplay: The Ivy Chronicles
stuff. Coming up for air, I answered. “Hot.”
    “Did you talk to him?”
    I shrugged one shoulder, for some reason keeping to myself that he was the guy that helped me with my car last night. That might lead me to explaining how he had just dubbed me “Nice Girl.” I winced anew over that. He might as well have dubbed me “Undesirable” or “Leper.”
    “I ordered beer,” I volunteered.
    “Ugh, that’s all? Well, there’s lots of fish in the sea.” She motioned around us. “We’ll find you someone to hone your wiles.”
    My gaze skimmed the sea of people, including the two guys at our table. The one who gave up his chair squatted now, sitting on a motorcycle helmet. He watched Emerson raptly as if he was actually a participant in our conversation. Meanwhile, his friend was working hard to impress Georgia. I couldn’t imagine a more hopeless endeavor than that. She had to have told him she had a boyfriend. Georgia was like that. She wasn’t into leading guys on.
    “Looking to hone your wiles?” Travis echoed. “I can help you there.”
    “Down, boy.” Emerson patted his arm and I could read her subtext even if she was too kind to say the words: You’re not what we’re looking for .
    “I wasn’t actually talking about me. I was talking about the campus kink club.”
    “Kink club?” I blinked.
    “Yeah. Everyone’s talking about it.”
    “Whoa, hang on a minute. Did you say ‘kink club’?” Emerson held up a hand. “Everyone can’t be talking about it. I haven’t heard about it.”
    “It’s invitation only. Members are few and select.”
    She angled her head and gave him a pointed look. “And again, I haven’t heard of it.”
    I grinned. Emerson’s sharp blue eyes cut to me. I quickly covered my lips, trying to hide my amusement. She obviously felt slighted to only be hearing about this now.
    “What’s a kink club?” Georgia asked, and the words themselves seemed odd emerging in her Alabama accent.
    “You know,” Travis’s friend volunteered. “It’s just what it sounds like. A club for people who like their stuff outside the box, you know?” He drew a little box in the air as if that somehow explained everything.
    “People who like their stuff outside the box,” I murmured, glancing at the faces around the table. “That’s not that helpful.” Especially considering I wasn’t even sure what everything was inside the box.
    “The girl in the apartment across from mine is a member,” Travis added. “She told me about it.”
    “Yeah?” Emerson’s eyes sparkled with interest. “What’s she into?”
    Travis looked the three of us over. “Oh, she’d be into the three of you.”
    “She’s gay?” Emerson looked unimpressed. “What’s so outside the box about that?”
    “I said she would be into the three of you.”
    We stared for a long moment. Then Emerson ahh ed and Georgia nodded in understanding. I still stared blankly.
    Travis laughed at my expression. “As in the three of you . . . together . All at once.”
    “Oh.” My cheeks burned.
    Travis laughed. “Your expression is priceless.”
    “Kink club. Huh.” Emerson looked at me thoughtfully. “You would definitely learn a thing or two if you visited—”
    “Forget it,” I cut her off. “It’s one thing to flirt around with a bartender and . . .” My gaze swung to the two guys listening attentively, suddenly embarrassed. Still, I pushed on. “ . . . and think about doing other stuff. I don’t need to sink to debauchery.”
    Travis slapped the table, laughing again. He waved at me. “Where did you find this one? She screams ‘never been laid.’”
    “Oh, and you have?” Georgia snapped.
    Emerson kicked Travis’s helmet out from under him. He toppled over onto the plank floor. She nodded out into the room. “Get lost.”
    Travis stood, dusting himself. “Sorry. Just kidding.” He looked at his friend. “C’mon, man.”
    The two waded into the mass. For a moment, the three of us sat
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