“Julian Fitzgerald, of course.”
Kristine exhales his name with an ease that matches the way I immediately turn into stone in my seat. It’s been a year, sure, but I still can’t bring myself to say his name out loud, let alone try not to react to it.
“What?” Rye almost gasps. “They’re here?”
I watch Kristine closely, waiting for that answer like it’ll determine whether I’ll take my next breath or not.
“Well, they weren’t in there,” she murmurs. “But I heard they might be there.”
“Yeah right, they never show up to parties anymore,” Rye mumbles, disappointed.
“Well, except for Liam,” Jaz cuts in. “Now that exceptionally hot, I’ll-fuck-you-and-your-Mama manwhore, is almost everywhere, but God, I bet sex with him would change your life. I swear it.”
“Ah, showing our true colors are we, Jaz?” Kristine says, looking down her nose at her.
“I’d like to have sex with that guy, I don’t hide it,” Jaz counters. “Unlike other people.”
“Liam?” I question, blinking like a dumb little cheerleader.
“Julian’s younger brother,” Rye explains. “He’s our age. Sexy. A smart mouth. He worships his brother. How come you don’t know this?”
“Yeah, Mia?” Jaz frowns. “Sometimes I swear you live under a rock better than the ground.”
Silence falls in the car, as we all look at Jaz.
“That didn’t work, did it?”
“Try working on it some more, Jaz,” Rye pats her arm. “You’ll get there. But seriously Mia? You don’t know the Fitz brothers?”
“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Kristine starts. “Mia faints or looks sick whenever the Fitz brothers are the topic of conversation.”
“I don’t faint,” I mumble, looking away.
“Yeah sure.” She eyes me like she knows something I don’t. “I guess you’re not so badass after all.”
“Save it, Kristine,” Rye starts. “At least Mia doesn’t have to sleep her way up, hoping to one day end up in Shane Matthews’s bed.”
“Ah, now you look jealous, Mia.” Kristine gloats, staring at me with that haughty look all over again.
“I’m not jealous,” I murmur, scrambling to get myself together. “You can hop into whichever bed you want love; I’m not stopping you.”
“You sure?” she presses like she’s deliberately trying to get a rise out of me. “Because I’ve got something that you don’t.”
Rye and Jaz suck in an audible breath from the backseat as all eyes fall on me. It’s not the first time that Kristine has baited me, trying to get a rise of out of me, but just like all the other times, I shut her down.
“You’re right, Kristine.” I smile, grabbing the car handle so I can get out of here. “You certainly have shit that I don’t, like your thunderous bad breath, a plastic face that still needs more work if you want to look like Roxy Bishops’ broke abandoned, poorly constructed clone.”
I watch impassively as Kristine’s face grows red, her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.
“You’re pathetic, Kristine. Everyone thinks you’re a loose-morals, street-belonging, basket case.” I drop my voice to a sympathetic whisper. “But those are just rumors. You’re a good girl.”
Rye and Jaz burst out laughing. From the corner of my eye, I see Rye’s phone in the air, no doubt recording this. By the time the first bell rings at school on Monday, everyone will know what I said. I almost feel bad but quickly realize something, I didn’t ask for this.
“I was just joking.” Kristine swallows, her eyes screaming bloody murder.
“’What?”
“About the jealousy thing,” she clears her throat, then tries to sit up straight but the blow of my words is still affecting her. “I didn’t mean it. I was just joking.”
Yeah, sure.
“Well, me too, Kristine!” I make sure to plaster a huge, fake, sugary smile on my face. “I was joking as well.”
“So, I don’t have bad breath?”
Of all the things I just said…
“Oh no sweetie, here’s some breath mints though.” I grab my purse and take the mints. “Take three. No, take four.”
Kristine hesitates for a second but takes the mints anyway.
“As if that will help,” Rye murmurs from the backseat. “You can practically smell the dead sperm from back here.”
“Rye, stop it,” I call from the front. “Kristine is our friend. She’s not loose. She’s beautiful and you’re going to apologize for that bad joke.”
“I wasn’t…”
“Rye.” I smile at her. She rolls her eyes and then looks at Kristine.
“That was a bad joke, sorry,” she grits out.
“That’s alright, sweetie,” Kristine says, now fluffing out her hair. “At least I made Joe come, unlike you.”
“You bitch!” Rye yells, then leaps over the console to grab Kristine’s neck.
“I’m out.” I shake my head and with that, I open my car handle and get out, unable to get in the middle of this one.
“Good one, Mia,” Jaz says as we stand outside the large Malibu mansion, teeming with inebriated, high, lust-filled teenagers.
“Well, I’m not getting in the middle of that and neither should you.”
“They’re not really good friends,” Jaz sighs.
“No one is really good friends in high school, Jaz.” I sigh, my fingers itching with the need to grab my phone and call home. But I don’t.
“That’s so true!” Jaz exclaims, then starts her annoying snort-laugh that I swear could outdo a pig. I guess someone has to tell her.
“Jaz, that sound is so unlady-like.” I smack my lips together, making sure the new Fenty Gloss Bomb lip gloss I’m wearing makes my lips pop. I want them to be attractive and maybe cover the fact that I’ve only ever been kissed once in my life by a guy who hates me. “You should try to laugh more like a lady, not like you just drank a keg of disgusting, cheap beer.”
I can feel her unease but the truth hurts. And it’s better for her hearing this from me because I actually care, even though they call me Mia Montague, the fucking rich bitch Ice Queen of Clintwood Academy.
But a queen is a queen, and I’ll make sure that neither one of them will forget it.
It’s one part of my life that’s still intact, still real as everything around me feels like it’s on borrowed time and I’m standing in quicksand.
“I feel like I drank a keg of disgusting beer,” she pouts, staring up at me, a hardness in her eyes that suggests she’s not as drunk as she’d like me to believe.
Well then.
“You certainly do reek like it too.” I shoot back, stepping back as Kristine and Rye get out of the car. “Rye, give Jaz here some gum or a powerful deodorant. I can’t walk in there with her smelling like a bar.”
“Not to mention Rye smells like desperation and Kristine, cheap sex.”
It’s all true but I only have tonight to let go. So, I’m not going to think of either one of them.
We head into the party and soon enough, Kristine disappears with some random guy. Rye, Jaz and I grab red solo cups with some kind of punch in it and we head for the dance floor.
I’m wearing my black rib, one shoulder ring bodysuit top and my black Riot belted shorts that hug my ass like a glove, with ripped hems. Paired with my white Vans, I look hot and I’m a dancer with sexy skills to show off. Not for them, but for me.
To let go.
To be young.
To be me, so damn carefree and I know all eyes are on me.
So, it doesn’t surprise me when a hard body plasters itself to my back. I know it’s a guy and when Rye and Jaz’s eyes widen, their cheeks flushed, I know it’s a hot guy.
I know I should shake him away. I know I should step away, but tonight, I want to be reckless. I want to let go of any inhibition because when I get home, this feeling won’t be there.
So, I grind on him, and it’s not long that I feel
even more eyes on me. Sweat glistens my body. I notice the R.A.C.K, the most popular girls from my school. Roxy isn’t there but there’s Avery, Charlotte and Kendra—named that for obvious, uncreative reasons that include their body shapes, and their obvious appeal—staring at me, looking like they’re two seconds away from marching over here to rip me a new one.
I shoot Kendra a wink, then turn around in the guy’s arms and almost lose my breath when I come face to face with an incredibly hot guy with light green eyes. His hair is messy in a sexy as fuck way, his jaw looks strong and he’s got this evil glint in his eyes as he looks over my shoulder.
I follow his gaze only to see that he’s staring at Kendra while he grabs my waist, bringing me closer to him.
“Are you serious right now?” I start, wanting to stop but the dance floor is packed with bodies pressing against each other and not to mention, this jerk is holding me close.
“Aww, don’t look so hurt, you’re doing a great job.” He grins, then looks at me. “And you’re hot, so maybe you’ll warm my bed tonight.”
“While you fantasize about Kendra Bishop?” I snort. “I think not.”
“I’m not looking at her.”
“You were.”
“Was not.”
“Hmm, you’re a shitty liar,” I start, feeling a burst of unexpected bravery that I’ve never felt before, I press my chest to his and he sucks in his breath.
“You’re quite effective when it comes to drawing people’s attention on you.”
“Yeah well, I guess that’s why you decided to use me for your little mind game that will probably backfire in your face.”
He chuckles, his hold around my waist tightening as he presses our bodies even closer. I can see the yellow flecks in his light green eyes and somehow, the longer I stare, the more I feel like he looks a lot like someone.
“Smart and fucking sexy,” he whispers in my ear as the song switches to ‘Love In This Club’ by Usher. “I can’t say I’m used to that combination in girls like you.”
“I’m sure you’re not.” I quirk a brow, kind of enjoying the flirty way he’s looking at me, while simultaneously looking over my shoulder, checking to see if Roxy is looking. “But unfortunately for you, I’m not a game. Just go talk to her.”
“People who break other people don’t deserve to be talked to,” he almost growls, then he seems to calm down. “But then again, they do deserve a taste of their own medicine.”
I pause, watching him.
“She’s never dated anyone for as long as I’ve known her.”
“You two are friends?” he questions, a skeptical look on his face. “Because if you are, I bet your high school life’s done.”
Well, that’s true if I was anyone else.
“Aww, I’ll be sure to cry myself a river the moment I decide that Kendra and her R.A.C.K bitches can take me.”
He throws his head back and starts laughing.
“Catty too,” he chuckles. “I think I found someone to warm my breezy, stone cold bed.”
Dread floods the pit of my stomach. Alarm bells start ringing in my head and for a moment, I’m overcome by an overwhelming sense of fleeing this place. I know I shouldn’t be irresponsible. I know I need to be careful and that Julian might be anywhere or that his brother might be anywhere as well, but for the first time since my life’s literally been on a one way out of control train, I want to let go.
“Hmm, sounds like you’re a use ‘em, then dump ‘em type.”
“I’m not a liar,” he whispers, pressing closer to me. “With me, there are no hidden clauses.”
No hidden clauses, I need that.
“Listen, I came here to—” I start but he cuts me off.
“To let your burdens bleed on the dance floor.” He watches me, with a small smirk on his face. I freeze the moment he says the word burden. It’s like an echo of a conversation I once had with Julian. “But I’m going to give you a fucking good time. Now shut up and don’t feel anything other than the heat between us.”
I don’t know how he flips us, but the next thing I know, the song is at a tempo and my back is to his front and we’re dancing provocatively. Neither one of us stops, it feels so good. For more than a few seconds, I want to let go of everything.
So, I do.
The room blurs and shifts, and all I can feel is track after track, the tempo of each techno song getting me closer to feeling a rush of adrenaline I’ve been chasing in the arms of a complete stranger with a foul mouth and a sexy, drop dead gorgeous bod to go with.
I don’t know how, but I’m now face to face with sexy unknown, but when he fists my hair and leans in close, I immediately think of Julian. But then again, to hell with that asshole.
So, when he presses his lips to mine in the middle of a throng of horny, drunk teenagers, I let him.
He tastes like Jack and candy, a weird combination that actually makes me want to kiss him even more. I press up against him, and he holds me even tighter. I can feel the stares on my back, can hear the audible gasps above the music but I choose not to care.
This kiss from this stranger will definitely erase the one that has branded me for over a year. I can finally move on from a guy who never told me his name, I had to hear it from the paps shouting in the ER.
“This is a bad idea,” he groans against my lips.
“Then stop.” I keep my voice sultry, fighting like hell to keep Julian’s face from popping back into my head.
“See, when you look at me like that, looking the way you are, moving the way you do,” he says, now kissing my neck. “You make it hard to stop.”
My heart is racing in my chest. I’d never thought much about the day—or rather, the night—I’d lose my V-card, but this right here, might just be it and I seriously need it. I need to feel something else other than anger and sadness for once.
“Take me somewhere,” I whisper, and he leans back to look at me, his eyes roaming my face.
“Easy, cupcake, you don’t want to tempt me.”
“I’m not tempting,” I say as Rihanna’s Birthday Cake starts blasting through the speakers, making me feverish. “Don’t you want me?”
He sighs, watching me, not even looking over my shoulder at all, like I have his full and undivided attention.
“You’re drunk.”
“So are you but take me somewhere anyway.”
“I’m not that drunk, but you’ve got sad in those gorgeous eyes,” he murmurs. “You want me to fuck the sad away.”
I’m stunned into silence for a second, but we keep dancing, not stopping even for a breath.
“Maybe I do want you to fuck the sad away,” I start, my voice low and clipped. “Is that too much of a challenge for you?”
A hard glint enters his eyes, his nostrils flaring like I just challenged not just his manhood, but his integrity.
“Careful what you ask for, cupcake,” he whispers in my ear. “You might regret this for the rest of your life. I’m hard to get over.”
“I seriously doubt that,” I whisper. “I’ll definitely regret it in the morning, but…”
“But what?”
“Not tonight.”
A hard smile greets me and the next thing I know, he’s tugging my hand and we’re moving. The crowd parts like the Red Sea for us as we go, everyone with knowing eyes but I don’t care. To hell with careful tonight.
We go past a lavish den, past a group of girls kissing, a show for the guy lounging around watching them, past some closed doors where you can distinctly hear loud moans and then we go up a flight of stairs.
“Where are we going?”
“To the private suites, baby.” My unknown sexy guy says. “You deserve that at least.”
“For helping you make that girl jealous.”
“Or maybe I’m just a generous guy,” he shoots over his shoulder. I study the way he looks at me, the shadows in his eyes.
“No, you’re not,” I snort. “You’re just sad too.”
&n
bsp; He tightens his hold on my hand but doesn’t say anything until we get to a set of double doors at the end of the hallway. He taps in a code, unlocking the doors and then, he’s pulling me through them into a dimly lit room and up against a wall.
Then we’re kissing.
My top comes off, dropping to the floor with a soft thud that spikes my racing heart, the blood in my veins whooshing like it’s a competition to get me into cardiac arrest. Feeling bold, I reach for the hem of his shirt and tug. He complies and then, it’s at our feet with mine.
I can feel his tight abs flexing and clenching under my touch, making me heady with intoxicating power.
For a second, I feel this irrational feeling, this gnawing in the pit of my stomach that’s screaming at me to stop, that I’m cheating, but I switch it off the moment my sexy guy starts kissing me in earnest, essentially fucking my mouth.
“Will you tell me your name?” he questions.
“Names are overrated.” I gasp into his mouth, my heart racing as blood rushes in my veins.
“Yeah, this is for tonight,” he groans in my neck, then we’re kissing again.
“Yes,” I moan into his mouth, then gasp when I feel his intoxicating taste. Heat and arousal shooting straight to my core. He grabs my ass, then lifts me. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I can feel his hard erection directly over my clenching pussy.
We both groan, then he’s moving, but only makes it to another wall. In a split second, he’s got my bra off with a speed and finesse that impresses the hell out of me.
“You do that a lot?”
“I do a lot of magic tricks to lucky girls that inspire me.”
“Inspire you, huh?” I giggle, freaking giggle. He smirks, then kisses the tip of my nose. “Are you trying to get over her?”
“Shut up and enjoy this.”
Yes sir.
I run a finger down his curved spine, and he groans low in his chest, planting a trail of hot kisses down my neck, to my breasts, my nipples hard and peeked, waiting for his hot mouth.
But the closer he gets to them, the more I feel that dread in my stomach, almost choking the breath out of me.
Is it me or is someone watching us? Watching me?
Devious Kisses: A Bully Enemies -To-Lovers Romance (It's Just High School Book 1) Page 6
