My mouth hits the floor when card table guy—that I now know is named Jeremy—turns in his chair toward Rebel and grabs his groin. “I’ve got a good shot you can take in your mouth right here, darlin’.”
Oh my God! Now, I know she is going to kick his ass, except Brandt is on him first before she has a chance.
I love Brandt’s parties.
Brandt grabs him up by his shirt. “That’s my fucking sister man. GET OUT!” he shouts.
Jeremy grins arrogantly, “You gonna let him throw me out like that, baby?” he looks to Rebel.
Is that her boyfriend? I have never seen Rebel with a guy before. Hmm...this is interesting? She just shrugs and throws back a refilled tequila shot.
Jeremy huffs and storms out, I laugh again and grab another shot. “To free entertainment,” the tequila burns a little going down, but I have a mission.
I am a tiny person, maybe 105 lbs. and it isn’t taking much to get me feeling lightheaded. I love it.
“Hey, shortie. You might want to take it easy. You alright?” Brandt asks patting my head and making me feel like a child.
I turn and eye him up and down. He really is a handsome guy. His hair is spiked green today, his ocean blue eyes piercingly beautiful, that fucking lip ring is hot just like Emily said. Suddenly dark and dangerous looks appetizing.
Emily nudges my shoulder, “Don’t even think about it, bitch.” Brandt looks amused at my tipsy manner, yet a little concerned.
“I’m fucking perfect.” I tell him, licking salt off my hand, taking another shot and sucking on a lime.
“Urm, Em? Wzup?” Brandt asks her.
“A misunderstanding, I think. But she is on a mission to forget it.”
She tells him like I am not standing here at all.
“At this rate, she will be passed out before Beau and Kristen even get here,” Brandt says.
I cheer, “Awww...Beau. I love Beau. Isn’t it so sweet that he is getting married? Love, fucking love. It’s a beautiful thing, huh?” I say in a singsong voice before I lower my speech to a snarl. “Except, when they fuck you over and it’s not. They change the rules and don’t tell you. They cheat, they lie, and they make you admit you love them, even say it back, and then just shit all over your heart.” I ramble as I pour another shot.
“Oh damn,” Emily says.
“Fucking hell, Emily.” Brandt says taking the shot glass out of my hand.
“Baby girl? Look at me. What happened?” he asks me. I know he is worried. His brotherly side makes him want to protect me from myself. Too bad tonight, I don’t want to protect myself. I want to lose myself.
His eyes really are gorgeous. “I don’t want to think about it, Brandt. Please, just let me forget it for a while. I’ll behave. I promise.” I whine and lie.
He studies me but then nods.
I go back into the living room that is now crowded with a lot of people. Some I recognize from Brandt’s tattoo parlor, the guitar guy and drummer from Rebel’s band—I can’t remember their names—my head is a little fuzzy. No Beau or Kristen yet. Yay, for no Dean. No Preslee, No Josh or any fucking high school people I fake even liking.
Card table guy #2 (who is kinda cute actually) is now leaning back on the couch with his hands propped behind his head watching me.
I’m feeling the effects of the tequila, and I love it. I feel numb, dizzy, and my body feels warm.
Kings of Leon Closer starts playing on the surround sound, and I can’t help but let myself get hypnotized by the rhythm and words.
“Let’s dance,” I grab Emily’s hand and don’t give her a choice.
“Oh, okay. Shit,” she mumbles as I literally pull her to the middle of the living room.
I love this song. I feel like I lost my soul, or maybe I never had one. All I know is right now, Emily and I are dancing seductively with each other, or I am dancing on her. Whatever.
I don’t know what has gotten into me, but I am swaying my hips, and moving up and down on her. My hands tangle into my hair pulling out the messy bun, and I shake my hair free.
Rebel is sitting on the barstool staring, like she can’t believe her eyes. Brandt is watching on the recliner, in shock I’m sure. I have no clue where that couple from earlier ran off too. They’re other people too, and they all just watch entertained.
Most have shocked faces at this change in my behavior. Normally, it would bother me. I would shy away from this, and hide. But nope, not tonight. Tonight, I don’t feel like myself, and that is the whole damn point wasn’t it? Yes, yes, that was. Success.
I am drunk.
Some guy is trying to give Rebel a lap dance, and she just keeps shooing him out of her eyesight before lighting up a cigarette. Emily waves her over to us.
Emily parts her lips slightly, and Rebel places the cigarette in her mouth for her to take a drag. She nods her head to me to do the same, and I do, not coughing nearly as much as earlier.
Emily looks a little surprised, but she eyes Brandt, and something flickers sinfully in her eyes. She pulls me closer and really starts to move with me, touching me even. Nope, pretty sure I am imagining that...maybe.
Rebel inhales the tobacco and backs away to her stool, where she watches.
Card table guy #2 drawls, “Damn, y’all should kiss.” I raise my brows at Emily, she glances at Brandt, and then I turn my eyes to card table guy, as well.
He is divine. He has on a pair of faded jeans with natural rips in them from being well worn. He is wearing a black t-shirt and a dog collar around his neck. His dark black hair is tussled and standing on end, like he just pulled his hands through it roughly. His eyes are the smokiest grey and are covered in eyeliner, which would be odd if we were anywhere but at one of ‘Brandt’s parties’. Being here, he fits right in.
Those eyes are simmering hot as they are watching us dance together. His arms are enticing and quiet eccentric, covered in colorful tattoos, a rainbow of a playground. He screams...dangerous, and my drunken brain thinks that equals delicious.
“What’s your name?” I ask. And I’m a little stunned at the rasp in my voice.
Whoa! His voice. “Lucas.” He leisurely eyes me up and down appreciatively, I think.
“Lucas.” I repeat, testing the word from my mouth.
“Hmm...I like it.” I say, and turn back to Emily with a wicked smile.
She shakes her head no, and I shake my head yes. I’m thinking, ‘hell yes’ actually.
“Me too.” he says after I turn away. “So, about that kiss. You gonna do it?” he challenges me.
Emily looks over my shoulder to Brandt seeking help. She seems to be stalling, but I don’t give her a chance to question this. I have been challenged.
I shrug and mutter, “What the hell.” I grab her behind the neck and pull her face to mine. I lick along her lips and she tenses. But when I bite her bottom lip, she moans. Perhaps her slight tipsy brain says she likes this.
The music is tantalizing. She parts her lips and I push my tongue into her mouth. We kiss slow and provocative, just like the music.
I am making out with Emily. Holy hell.
My mind is definitely more fucked up than I realized. I have zero interest or attraction to girls. So this is way out of the blue for me. Something in me wants to be reckless. Emily is a safer bet to be reckless with because of this. What we’re doing isn’t real. It’s nothing at all.
Our hands are in each other’s hair, on each other everywhere. When we pull apart, we are both out of breath and flustered—looking at each other in complete shock that we just did that.
“That was hot,” Rebel breathes heavily. I look at her, noticing that she is flushed. Suddenly it dawns on me. She has a thing for girls. Whoa! How come I didn’t notice that?
“Fucking yeah. It was.” The card table guy named Lucas, groans and adjust himself in his jeans.
I grin. Why do I grin? Guys like him disgust me.
People clap; some even gasp a little. However, all I hear is…
/> SLAM!
I jolt at the sound of the door slamming shut, and my eyes are immediately locked with hazel eyes, which have clearly witnessed my make out session with Emily.
His eyes are smoldering hot, and yet ice cold as they narrow on me. “Having fun?” He yells, tilting his head to the side, like he is trying to figure me out. He is definitely not happy.
“Was!” I spit, and walk back to the barstools, where us girls are gathering again around the tequila bottle.
I hear Brandt and Josh talking, and Josh thanking Brandt for texting him. Shit! I should have known better. Figures.
I grab the shot glass and pour the clear liquid as Lucas joins our end of the party. He is standing very close to me, too close for my comfort level, but I don’t shift. I let him play his cards.
“To soft lips,” I cheer, and smirk at Emily before I drink yet another shot.
I pass the bottle and glass to Rebel, “To wet panties,” she drinks her shot. I place my hand over my mouth in shock, and they laugh.
She passes the bottle and glass to Lucas. He whispers in my ear, “to fucking—hard.”
My jaw hits the floor, and he grins like the devil when I turn to look at him. I can’t help but let my eyes fall south, he raises a brow, and Josh clears his throat from the doorway.
“No fair. I didn’t hear your toast,” Emily whines.
Lucas brushes his knuckle against the outside of my thigh, and I shiver involuntarily. He gives me a side-glance, “To new friends,” he says out loud and takes his shot.
Brandt comes to stand next to Emily. It’s her turn. He kisses her shoulder and she giggles. “To tongues that twirl,” she says and winks at Brandt. Everyone except me gives her a puzzled look.
I just laugh. “Yeah, bitch.” I sputter. Like I would know what a twirly tongue feels like. I wonder if card table guy named Lucas has a twirly tongue.
I eye the group of shot takers with me, “she likes her kisses down low, makes her arch her back.” I sing like Kelly Rowland.
Emily actually sputters her tequila and begins choking. “Hooollllyyyy shit,” she says.
Rebel dies laughing. “Ohhhh fuck. I looove ‘drunk Riley’. She’s funny.”
“Real funny.” Josh mumbles under his breath, clearly not amused by my behavior. Who the hell cares what he thinks? You do, my heart tells me. My head tells my heart to shut the hell up. Black. Dead. Remember?
Josh is radiating heat. I can feel the holes he is drilling into me. His hands are fisted at his side, and he looks murderous right now. I want to attack him in the dirtiest way. I am beginning to think tequila is not the best idea for my sexually deprived body.
CHAPTER 21
I’m angry, I’m turned on, I’m scared as fuck, and all these emotions include her. It’s a dangerous heady cocktail.
When Brandt text me that Riley was well on her way to being plastered, I got nervous.
When Brandt text me the second time saying ‘he was nervous,’ I knew I should hurry and get there.
I had no idea what I would be walking into. Kissing Emily was definitely not what I imagined at all.
I have to admit. It was hotter than hell, the way she was kissing her, and moving with her when she danced. I have never seen her dance like that. But it fucking pissed me off when I saw the way that dick on the couch was looking at her, as though it were his own personal show.
As I stand here watching him gently touch her and whisper to her, my blood is roaring in my ears.
Riley is well beyond drunk. She starts singing about oral sex, and I am inches from losing my shit. I want to throw her over my shoulder and take her out of here before she does something she will regret.
I need to tread carefully with her. I’ve only seen Riley like this one other time, and that was after our parent’s accident. She spent the entire night after that crying about how she never wanted to be like him, and yet she feared she was. She wasn’t.
“Where are Beau and Kristen?” I ask Brandt after he walks over to me.
“Not coming, dude. They were supposed to be driving in for the weekend, but Kristen got sick or something. So, they aren’t coming. Guess it’s a good thing too. Since our girl here is out of her mind,” he says gesturing to Riley.
“Dude, what the fuck happened?” he asks.
“Fucktons. And I don’t even know what to do about it,” I admit.
Oh hell, no. She leans into that dude’s body, and I am fuming.
CHAPTER 22
Inhibitions out the door. Let’s see who hurts who now?
I am feeling a little too brave. Inhibitions are practically non-existent. I turn angry eyes on my very hot and handsome best friend, or ex-best friend. Ex-boyfriend, almost boyfriend…what is he again?
Anyway, he chats it up with Brandt. I am sure discussing my misbehavior, and it pisses me off.
I wasn’t sure in this state of mind if what I saw or felt was even reality or a hallucination. My balance felt a little off, and I didn’t do it on purpose, but the effect it has on Josh makes me smile wickedly when I leaned into Lucas’ side for support.
“Riley, let’s go talk.” He says reaching for my hand. I don’t grab it. Actually, I look at it like it’s poison and watch it falls back to his side.
That’s right I don’t need you this time. My inner bitch is lying to herself—again.
“What are you even doing here, Josh?” I grit through hostility.
His jaw is locked, and he looks like he might blow at any moment. I hope he does. Maybe then, I can lash out.
“I’m on friend duty.” He doesn’t sound happy about this duty and neither am I. And friend? Really? We are back to that?
I laugh, and it’s not a laugh of amusement. It’s a cold-haughtily-laugh that says, ‘bullshit’.
When I’m done laughing like a bitch, I walk right up to him, and make a scene of looking around the room at all the faces.
“You sure about that, Josh? I am not so sure I see your friend anywhere around here.” I back up right into Lucas’ hard chest, again on accident.
Josh’s eyes are on fire, and for a brief second I think I have pushed it too far. He is fuming, and it’s sexy as hell.
Brandt steps in between us, “She’s drunk man. Just calm down.”
He doesn’t listen.
Emily looks nervous. She is fidgeting with her fingers. Rebel looks amused. I can’t see Lucas, so I have no idea what his feelings are, and the other viewers of this ‘nightmare on Riley Street’ look entertained.
Lucas wraps his hand around my hip. I almost jerk from his touch, but I realize he is taunting Josh and it’s working, so I refrain from my instinct to pull away.
Josh steps down to where he is nose to nose with me. I swallow down the nerves and also the desire to grab him and take him on the card table.
His voice is so menacingly low that it sends chills up my spine. “Perhaps, I was mistaken, Riley.” He stands and towers over me looking me up and down with a disgusted look on his face. “I don’t see my friend anywhere.”
“Stop, guys. Just stop. You don’t know what you’re saying.” Emily’s eyes dart between the two of us “Riley, tell him you’re sorry. Josh she is drunk and hurt. She doesn’t mean it.”
She looks at Lucas, “And you, stop touching her.” She pulls me out of his grip. He just smirks but releases me.
Josh and I don’t move. We don’t speak. We just stare for what seems like forever, but is more likely just a minute.
He turns and walks out of the living room with his hands in his hair, and his head to the ceiling on a growl.
I follow a few steps before stopping when the make out couple from earlier tonight walks into the living room from down the hall looking very well sated.
“Ah hell, no! Where did you two just come from?” Rebel gripes. They look guilty.
I watch Josh for a moment. My heart wants to go to him, but my mind isn’t agreeing. My mind wins.
I don’t pay attention. I’m too busy feeling
bad. I don’t want to feel bad. I don’t want to feel anything at all. Wasn’t that the point of coming to this party?
I’m so pissed. I’m so confused. I want to hurt him. I want to go hug him and keep him forever. I’m such an awful person. I don’t know what I want, but I know he has killed my buzz. So I grab the tequila—again.
“Riley, I think you have had enough. You’re ruining everything. Go fix this.” Emily yells at me and snatches the bottle out of my hand, placing it back down, and pointing toward Josh’s back in the living room.
“Fuck off, Em.” I grab the shot Rebel was just about to take.
“Hhheeeyyy,” she says when I steal it.
It burns. I am completely aware that I am, in fact, ruining everything. I am going to regret this tomorrow. Something is definitely wrong with me because right now, I just don’t care. I can’t stop now.
Brandt starts shuffling people out of his house, but for whatever reason this Lucas guy is left sitting on his sofa. I am thankful.
Lucas pulls me to the sofa to sit, and I stumble my way over. I sit on his side with my feet across his lap. I look at him...and I mean really look at him.
He isn’t Josh. He doesn’t have the same scent that I have grown to associate only to Josh. He doesn’t feel as good as Josh does next to me, either. When I snuggle into Josh’s side, it feels right, feels like where I belong, like I was made to be there with him. Like home. With Lucas, it’s forced and mechanical. Just like it was with Dean. Fucking Dean.
I am proving a point. Josh who? Dean who? Yeah, who fucking cares?
“You are sexy when you’re mad?” Lucas interrupts my thoughts with a line.
“Yeah?” My voice is dripping in sarcasm. He is so full of shit. And I’m sure he thinks he is getting ‘some,’ but it’s not going to happen. Just you and your hand tonight, buddy. I might be drunk, but I most definitely am not going to just give it away to anyone on a whim.
“Hell yeah, you are. So, is that Josh guy your boyfriend?” he nods toward Josh, who is now facing us and staring seemingly phlegmatic.
Escape the Doubt Page 13
