Rich enters behind them, wearing a half mask that conceals his scars. I’ve barely met the guy, but I already feel closer to him than I ever have to Wesley. He’s like the brother I’ve alwayswanted. Stoic. Protective. Hanging out with Rich is fun for me. Wesley… not so much.
He stops just inside the door, miserably moving toward a shadowed wall when he sees Zoe on the dance floor with her friends, laughing like she didn’t just break his heart and joke about it all over school. There’s a strange heaviness to him, like he’s contemplating life and everything that comes with it. He’s pretending not to care but caressing the shadows like in their embrace he can somehow survive the night.
I feel bad for him and make a mental note to steal him for a dance later.
Wesley is the last to arrive with Morgan hanging on his arm like an extravagant, tacky ornament. She makes sure everyone knows she’s there by shouting, “I’m here, bitches!” the second she’s inside the door.
I hate how beautiful she looks. Her mask is pink and glittery, matching her dress that’s not up to dress code at all. Her neckline plunges to dangerous depths, the back of it barely stopping before the swell of her ass, and the length isn’t below the knees like it should be. One false move, and everyone’s going to see what’s between her legs.
She clings to him like he’s her property. For the last few months, he’s been casually flirting with her. Getting closer, making sure I see them together.
I hate that I’ve noticed, and the jealousy I feel when I see her hand lightly grab his pecs. It’s stupid. Wesley is a troll that shouldn’t exist in my life.
But he does.
In my thoughts.
In my dreams.
In my stupid memories that won’t go away.
God, that almost kiss lives on repeat in my head, like it’s taunting me and refuses to never go away.
It’s a terrible cycle, but so is seeing him here with a girl who’s been bragging about how she’s going to be taking his virginity tonight and removing him off the market.
Why my stomach twists and aches at that thought, I have no idea. Wesley can do what he wants with whomever he wants.
He’s my arch nemesis.
A sworn enemy.
An infuriating excuse of a boy who has too much charisma and a smile that just lives in your soul. He’s nothing to me… and yet… he’s everything all at once.
He scans the room like he’s looking for something… someone. Then that heated gaze falls on me, his jaw tightening when Tony’s arm curls around my waist, his fingers pressing into my flesh like he’s staking a claim he hasn’t earned. Something dark flashes in those pools of blue, like a quiet storm ready to create havoc. It lasts for two seconds too long before he finally looks away, the heat still scorching my skin like it were laced with poison. And maybe it is, because the more I look at Wesley, the more I wish I was Morgan tugging him toward the dance floor.
But that’s insane!
Why would I want Wesley, who’s been in and out of jail, when I’m here with one of the most popular guys in our class?
Tony pulls out a flask and offers it to me when one of the teachers isn’t looking. “Want a swig?”
Shaking my head, I nervously look towards the dance floor, searching for Wesley.
He’s watching me from over Morgan’s shoulder, eyes trained on the flask in Tony’s hand, and the way his hand is on my arm, holding it a bit too aggressively.
“Don’t be such a prude,” Tony grits out. “You need to loosen up for tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
He grins. “You’ll see.”
A gulp seizes in my throat, and even though I try to inch away, Tony’s hold on me only gets more possessive.
Wesley sees it, jaw clenching as if he’s going to march across the room and lay Tony out.
Well, that’s not gonna happen. I purposely chose Tony for tonight, hoping to rid myself of the dreaded V-card before graduation. I just didn’t expect to be so repulsed by the idea the more I get to know him.
Tony places the flask back in his jacket pocket and forces me onto the dance floor. We dance through a few songs, but I excuse myself when a slow song comes on, needing a breather.
