“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I grumbled, taking it from her and shrugging into it.
Here goes nothing.
This party was in a house almost identical to the last one—with too many rooms, perfectly white walls, and beige furniture, like it came out of a magazine rather than being a place people actuallylived in. I honestly didn’t care for it. It was the kind of house my mom had always dreamed about, the kind she’d managed to get with Richard.
I spent most of my time trailing Becca and avoiding talking to anyone else, letting her do the speaking for us both. Unlike last time, however, I felt the weight of people’s gazes far more intensely. I found myself trailing the hem of my crop top with my fingertips, pulling it down only for it to ride back up again immediately. It was too exposing, the neckline too constricting, like all the fabric was in the wrong place. It made my skin itchy, and all my clothes seemed wrong. I longed for my abandoned hoodie. This wasn’t me. I didn’t like it. It was just as well that Dex wasn’t even here, because I didn’t want him to see me like this. Who knew what infuriating fucking remarks he would make about it.
As Becca got caught in yet another conversation on our way to the kitchen for alcohol, I kept my gaze down and thought about what excuses I might give to get out of here. Maybe I could at the very least sneak away and raid someone’s wardrobe for something that would cover me better. I didn’t even know whose house we were in, or whose party this was.
I was about to reach for Becca, about to give her a look that I hoped would convey more than words could, when I felt it. Felthim. I knew it was him, even before I turned around, because onlyhisgaze was that heavy, that heated, that magnetic. That pull between us was there, as it always was, growing stronger.
Before I could turn to find him, rough fingertips traced over my sides, just above the waistband of my jeans, on skin that was far too exposed and vulnerable. The scent of leather and smoke and something deeper and oaky had my breath catching in my throat as lips ghosted over the shell of my ear. “Have you had anything to drink?” Dex asked.
I couldn’t remember how to breathe, let alone speak, but I still shook my head in response.
“Good. Keep it that way. I gotta see a guy about a thing, but then I’m coming to find you, Rabbit. Wait for me.”
Then he was gone again. My pulse thundered beneath my skin, the ghost of where he’d touched still tingling, sending ripples of heat and want and excitement and fear over the entirety of me.
Maybe it was the outfit that had me feeling vulnerable, maybe it was this stupid half-baked plan Becca had talked me into, but the urge to punch him was second to the urge to see what would happen if I did what he said, just this once.
“I saw that.” Becca gave me a Cheshire cat smile that was honestly a little creepy. She hooked her arm with mine, apparently done with her conversation and I hadn’t even noticed. “Shall we get a drink to settle the nerves, love?”
Keep it that way. I swallowed and shook my head.
This definitely didn’t feel so hypothetical anymore.
seventeen
Jonah - Past
BOOTS.
This was a terribly bad, no-good idea.
I didn’t know what the fuck Dex was here to do, but he’d disappeared a while ago now, and I was starting to think he’d just left me here. Maybe that was his new method of messing with me, just leaving me waiting. I didn’t even know what I was waiting for. He hadn’t specified that part. Just told me to wait as he went off to “see a guy about a thing.” What the fuck did that even mean?
I didn’t have a drink to settle my nerves, as Becca had suggested, because he’d told me not to, and I’d listened. Why the fuck had I listened?
Well, I was done listening. Becca, as usual, was caught up in conversation with someone I really didn’t want to talk to, so with a gentle squeeze to her shoulder, I left her side, wandering into the kitchen to see if I could figure out what the alcohol situation was here. Fortunately, it was empty for the moment, so I could poke around without anyone watching me.
After I’d successfully located a bottle of vodka and some lemonade in the fridge and filled my cup, I was already feeling more optimistic—at least until there was a “tsk”from behind me. I almost dropped my cup when I jumped, spinning to find Dex leaning against the doorway.
Pale eyes looked from me down to the cup in my hands, locking onto it for a long moment before he shook his head in disapproval and turned to leave. Panic clawed at my chest—sudden, confusing,and unwelcome. I slammed the cup down on the counter and followed him.
Dex had made his way across the room already, through the drunken crowd toward the door. I pushed through the bodies between us, catching the sleeve of his leather jacket just as he made it to the exit.
He tugged out of my hold. I frowned and grabbed him again. My chest constricted, my throat tight with guilt.
This time he spun, large hands grasping my shoulders as he flipped us, pushing me against the wall beside the door. I felt the shift of a frame at my back, but I hardly cared, too busy glaring at the man who held me there.
With the platform boots we were the same height, yet somehow I still felt smaller, boxed in between his arms. “Let me go,” I warned him as heat rose over my chest and neck.
“You’re the one who grabbed me, Rabbit.” His expression seemed more amused now, and I preferred that to the disappointment I’d seen on him in the kitchen.
I opened my mouth to retort, but what could I say? He was right. When I’d thought he was leaving, I’d needed to chase after him.
His eyes dropped to my lips for a moment before he frowned again, his hands releasing me as he took a step back. “Pity.”
