“What do you think the odds are that I can hook up with Deck tonight?”
I turned away from the writhing orgy taking place in the living room—or what was damn close to becoming a writhing orgy—and quirked an eyebrow at my best friend. “Who?”
“Ohmigod!” she shouted, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Declan Forrester? Lead singer of Civil Corruption? Christ, Gwen. It’s like you live under a rock, I swear.”
“Sorry.” I shrugged, not feeling sorry in the slightest.
Corrie stood on her tiptoes and scanned the ever-growing crowd. “I’m going to see if I can find him and make my move. You comingwith?”
I was more than comfortable in my current spot, holding up one of the walls. The corner we were tucked into was one of the only spaces in the room where I wasn’t constantly being jostled or stepped on. I was hard-pressed to leave its cozy confines.
“Pass,” I called out. “But you go do your thing. Text me if you get lucky and I’ll catch a cab home or something.”
Her forehead wrinkled in concern, and I could see the indecision warring in her blue eyes. She was worried about me. Hell, worry had been her constant emotional state since I arrived in Seattle a couple weeks ago. She knew exactly how much I’d been struggling, how much pain I’d been carrying around, and she wanted to do everything in her power to make it better for me.
I loved her for it. But the helicopter routine was getting really freaking annoying.
“Go,” I insisted.
“I don’t know….” She hemmed and hawed, chewing on her bottom lip. “I don’t want to leave you by yourself.”
“I’m serious. I’ll be fine on my own for a bit. I think I need to get some air anyway. You can’t hover over me twenty-four seven, babe.”
She narrowed her eyes in an intimidating scowl. “Says who? I’m an expert at hovering.”
I laughed, placing my hands on her shoulders and spinning her a hundred and eighty degrees. “Then give yourself the night off,” I called over the music. “Hot, famous rock star dick won’t ravish itself!”
“Valid point!” she shouted, giving me a wicked grin over her shoulder before being swallowed up by the crowd.
I breathed a sigh of relief when her bobbing blonde head finally disappeared from sight. I appreciated everything she’d done for me, not just the past few months but also the past fewyears. She’d been my rock ever since my father passed. But her constantconcern for me left me feeling like I always needed to beonwhenever she was around. I didn’t want her to worry more than she already was, so I’d grown rather good at faking a smiling, bubbly personality. It was exhausting, and I was grateful for the reprieve.
Something from the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I turned my head just as a woman who looked an awful lot like a model I’d seen in a Victoria’s Secret catalog dropped to her knees and began unbuckling the belt of the man standing before her.
And time to go.
I stuck close to the wall as I worked my way from the room into the open hallway, hoping to find some much-needed space.
No such luck. There were peopleeverywhere. I could have sworn half—if not more—of the greater Seattle area was crammed into the mansion.
Claustrophobia was starting to creep up on me and the walls began to close in. I could feel the warning signs of a panic attack taking hold. I hadn’t had one of those in a month. I thought I’d been doing so well, but if I didn’t get some air soon, I was going to lose it.
The paths to the front and back of the house were congested with bodies, and the thought of trying to squeeze through made my skin start to crawl. A quick glance showed that the massive curved staircase leading to the upper levels—yes,levels, because the house hadthree freaking stories—was clear.
The strappy stiletto sandals Corrine had forced me to wear clicked on the Italian marble floor as I walked the small distance to the staircase. Grabbing hold of the glossy mahogany banister, I swung my weight around to the first step and began my ascent.
The constriction on my lungs finally started to ease as I made my way down a long, wide hall on the second level. I began my search, hoping to find a room with a balcony—or an open window at the very least. I made the mistake of opening one of the many closed doors and got an eyeful of something I’d never be able to un-see—naked flesh… lots andlotsof naked flesh. Some of the positions the three—wait, make that four—people were in were downright unnatural.
I quickly slammed the door shut and continued down the hall, scrubbing at my eyes in an effort to rid my brain of the disturbing display when I finally came to a door that was partially open. And blessedly empty.
A four-poster bed larger than any I’d ever seen sat in the middle of the wall to my right. Rich dark-wood furniture that probably cost more than I’d ever make in my lifetime filled the rest of the huge room. The decadent décor and furnishings screamedI’m rich AF and you should be jealous. I probably would have been too, had my focus not been on the wide-open French doors directly across from me.
A breeze blowing from outside shifted the thin, gauzy curtains on the door and filled the room with the smell of pine from the endless expanse of forest just outside.
“Thank God,” I gasped as I all but stumbled out onto the terrace. A beautiful view of Lake Washington sat before me. The moon and stars glimmered off the calm surface of the water, but I was too frazzled to enjoy it. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply as my fingers wrapped around the twisted iron railing. Calm finally started to wash over me as the chilly wind licked at my flushed cheeks.
I let out a pained “Fuck” and focused on breathing deeply, fighting back the last remaining dregs of the panic that had me in it’s grips just moments before.
Once the vice on my chest released completely, my head dropped and my body sagged against the railing. The metal dug into my stomach, the cold seeping through the flimsy material ofmy dress, but I didn’t care. I could finallybreathe. That was all that mattered to me.
