by Sonya Jesus
Mel picks up on my annoyance and cuts me off before I unload on Haley. “We heard the ambulance, and then we were sitting here thinking ‘What if it was you’? Haley called Connor, he said that it was Austin and that he couldn’t remember where you went.”
Figures. “I’m okay. I was just helping Blaze clean up. One hospital trip is enough for me.”
“Your phone has been ringing off the hook,” Harper declares.
“It’s probably Connor,” Haley informs me, pulling her phone out and dialing him. “Hey, Connor! She’s here.” She glances over at me with narrowed eyes, then swings her head to the side and lowers her voice to tattletale. “With Blaze.” Pause. “I don’t know.”
She presses her lips together and stomps over to me, thrusting the phone in my face. I hesitate but take it, anyway.
“Lia?” he says my name through gritted teeth.
“Hey, Connor. How’s Austin?”
“He’s okay.” He sounds normal now. “The doctors are running some blood work and giving him some medication for his seizures. His parents are here. They are taking him home for a couple days.”
“Well that’s great to hear. Are you okay?”
“Yea, I’m better now. It was crazy. We’re all here at the hospital, Austin wants us to go over to his place. Celebrate that he didn’t die.” That´s a good reason for celebration. “I wanted to tell you since Jaime is going to be there and that didn’t go so well yesterday.”
“It’s fine. I’m just happy he is okay.”
Harper snatches the phone from me. “We’re having a party tonight! Wish you could come.”
Party? What party? I wasn’t in the mood for a party! Harper passes back Haley’s phone to me and I scrunch my eyebrows in frustration. Harper shrugs, not really worried about my reaction. Taking a deep breath, I hold the phone up to my ear.
Before I can even say anything, Connor’s agitated voice greets me, “Really? A party?”
“I didn’t know about it,” I admit.
“Who all is going?” The line of questioning begins. “Will Christopher be there?”
“I don’t know,” I scoff. I don’t like being told what to do. “I just found out we were having a party. I’m going to invite Robins if he wants to come.”
“I prefer you didn’t,” he pulls the phone away and I hear him snap, “Shut up!” in the background before he returns to our conversation, “but it’s your decision, Do whatever you want. I have to accept it.”
“Okay?”
We didn’t say much more after that. Not a lot left to say when neither of us has adjusted to the whole open thing. I pass the phone back to Haley, who exits the room so she can have a private conversation with Connor.
I wait until she slams the door shut to address the remaining ladies, “A party? Since when are we having a party?”
Haley and Mel look at Harper. She shrugs. “It’s about time we open the Tiki Bar.”
***
The suite is packed to the point where I can barely move. Robins stands behind the Tiki Bar, mixing drinks for everyone. The sight of him surrounded by Hawaiian flowers and girly lights makes me laugh. Mason is here, too, in the corner talking to a group of guys I had never met before. He notices me and flickers over a smile before mouthing, “Hey.”
I smile back at him and wave, blowing him a kiss just for the hell of it. The last time I saw him we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms. He politely excuses himself from the guys he is talking to, and walks towards me. I meet him the other half of the way.
“Blowing me a kiss from across the room when you could give me a real one is insulting.” He smiles slyly.
I need this. I lean over and kiss his cheek, slightly above his dimple.
“Where’s the boyfriend?” he asks as I lean in.
“Where’s the girlfriend?” I return the question. Tonight, I want to be the pre- Connor me; the last year me. The me that didn’t have feelings for Robins. The me that was simply unnoticed and normal. Everything was so much easier as a sophomore.
“I needed a night off from Katie.” He waits for me to answer his question.
I roll my eyes and reluctantly answer, “Connor and I are complicated.”
“You’re always complicated, Lia.”
What? “I’m complicated?” I laugh sardonically. “How are things going with you and Avery? I’m surprised you are even here.”
“Civil. She came to my party, so I came to hers.”
“I’d steer clear of her if she has a little too much to drink. She may not be so civil.”
“Honestly, I think we are moving beyond our past. She can’t hate me forever.” He pauses for a moment, debating on finishing his statement. “So, what? We hooked up and then I moved on. It happens all the time.”
“With you it does.” Shit. I’m not talking about me here. This isn’t about Mason and me or his routine with women. Granted, our one time hook up was epic and the night still fills my heart with butterflies, but all those butterflies die when I remember how he pretended it never happened. He still pretends. He started dating Avery three weeks later, stringing her along for months before he unexpectedly dropped her one night and ended up in a relationship with Katie the very next morning.
Harper passes by us with a tray of shots and Mason takes two, gulping each down so quickly they’re a blur. Harper hands him another two and he slams those down just as fast. Satisfied, he turns to me and says, “One of these days we need to talk, Lia.”
The promise in his statement makes my knees weak. I take a drink from Harper’s tray, needing some liquid courage. She smirks at the rare occurrence, raising her eyebrow in question. I shrug, silently conveying a ‘why the hell not’ with my expression and she replies with an understanding nod. We both know getting through tonight is going to require a lot of alcohol. So, I down my first shot.
“Whoa!” I clear my burning throat as the heat travels all the way down to my stomach. “I think I just burned my esophagus.”
She stifles a laugh. “Nah, maybe just the lining.” She hands both of us another round. “The second one puts the fire out.”
“I highly doubt that,” I choke out, not noticing Harper had already disappeared into the crowd.
An amused snort from Mason catches my attention. “So you drink now?”
I answer by lifting my shot for a toast.
Pleased with my actions, he raises his in the air. “Here’s to our first drink together.” Our plastic cups touch, and I swallow whatever Harper had given me.
“A lot has changed since last year,” he says, curling his lips.
Yeah. Unfortunately.
I smile and tell Mason I’d be right back. I needed to stay away from him. Mason didn’t appeal to my Vixen or my Angel: he went straight for my heart. He was the first person I had ever really loved. I denied my feelings my whole freshman year because I didn’t know what they were. The intimate touches, the lingering embraces, the way his smile lit up anytime he saw me. It took me 14 months to realize I had fallen for him. Another four months of me denying those feelings, until one night in his apartment, out of nowhere, he kissed me. The next hours to follow were the most amazing hours of my life, and the next day it was as if it never happened. Until now we had never hinted about that night, and honestly? I don’t think we ever will. Like Robins said, Mason is my open-ended. Just like Gavin. Well, I had enough of a mess inside me to try and work through all of that.
I make my way over to Robins and ask, “Whiskey sour, please.”
“Funny,” he shouts over the music. When he realizes I am not kidding he pulls the drink together and hands it to me. “Whatever it is, this isn’t going to make it go away.”
What was I making go away? Mason? My shitty attempts at relationships? The fact that I should tell Robins how I feel, but am too scared to do it? Is it because the last time something non-friendly happened with a friend, he turned into my open-ended? Or maybe the liquor drowns out my thoughts about the Mad-Lib Auction?
Or Aiden freaking Keys? I caress Robins’ cheek, thanking him for the concern. “No, but it will help me forget.”
“Whatever it is will still be there tomorrow,” he says into my ear as he wraps his arms around me, sending a surge of need from my head to my toes. I cement my arms to my side, refusing to connect with him and transfer the stimulating energy pulsing through me. He takes my lack of action as a plea for a tighter embrace. I give in for just a moment and lean into him. He adjusts, so our bodies can sync together, and the intimate gesture jolts me back to reality.
I want every little thing, every little moment with Robins, but I had also wanted the same with Mason. No matter how electrifying Robins’ touch is, I can’t risk the sting of remorse. If seeing him with someone else hurts now, will it kill me later? How long until Robins turns into a version of Mason and stops coming around? How long until he pretends nothing happened between us? Until he passes by me on his way to class and I’m invisible? How long until I’m Amelia and not Pooh Bear?
Life without Robins doesn’t make a lick of sense, so why be a risk taker?
Because no risk means no gain. Unless, I don’t gain anything but a broken heart.
Robins lives inside my heart; if it breaks, then he can escape and I much rather he be trapped inside forever. That’s why I take a deep breath and slightly ease my way out of his arms.
He uncertainly loosens his grip enough for me to add a safe distance. Our eyes lock, a glint of resolve flounces through his eyes and I bite down hard on my bottom lip. He inches forward and I inch back. My heart pounds against my chest so forcefully it echoes in my ears. Flustered, I grab the cup off the bar and tilt it to my lips, busying my mouth before it says or does something it shouldn’t.
After a really long chug, he latches on to my drink, lowering it so he has a clear visual of my lips. His hand cups my cheek, tilting it upward, forcing our gazes to meet. His concern burrows deep into me, causing jitters in my stomach. It’s like he knows.
“Drinking is just going to make it a lot more confusing.” He pauses. “Trust me.”
Unable to look away, because he’s holding me in place, I have no choice but to delve deeper into the silence. The fluttering in my belly intensifies under the heat of his smoldering eyes and my cheeks spark with color. My gaze drops to his lips when I realize he’s saying my name. It rolls off his tongue like a glass marble rolls on a flat surface: smooth and continuous.
I blink away the thoughts of his agile tongue, but the back of my eyelids are etched with his image and it intensifies the moment.
My ass vibrates. It takes a moment to register my phone is ringing. A sign, an interruption, or life’s way of telling me ‘No Robins’. I snap my eyes open wide and say, between squished cheeks, “My phone is ringing.”
He lowers his hands slowly, nodding in understanding. Understanding of what, though? I have no freaking clue, but I’m glad he gets it. He plants a kiss on my forehead and steps back, giving both of us the air we need to see things clearly.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, just as it stops vibrating.
Realizing the lights no longer flashed, Robins takes his position back at the bar. I scan the room, checking for people who might have noticed something. Everyone is busy dancing, or drinking, but I have the weirdest sensation of being watched. I inspect my surroundings again, this time focusing on anything out of place. Other than Haley’s door left slightly ajar, I see nothing to worry over.
“You need to talk?” Yes, but not with him. “Want to go for a walk, Pooh Bear? We can talk about things. Are you still getting those calls? Is that who called you?”
I smile, playing off the apprehension and easing the furrow that has taken residence right between those perfect brows of his. “Nothing I can’t handle, Robins. Plus, if you go with me, who would be our bartender? I’ll be fine.” I lift the cup to my lips again and finish it, handing it over to the bartender for a refill. “Just keep those whiskey sours coming.”
He groans, seizing the cup from my hand. “I’m not going to let you get drunk.” He looks around the apartment. “Too many guys here who want to get in your pants.”
“Maybe that’s what I need, Robins,” I reply, looking around jokingly, “send me in the right direction?” Anyone would be a better idea than Robins. He’s the only one capable of shredding the impenetrable walls of my heart.
“Too many directions to send you in.” Grimacing, he hands me the cup. “And I would never do that. I’d be too jealous.” I take the cup, not missing his you know you like it when I say these things like this to you smirk. Only this time, it seems strained.
Luckily, my phone vibrates again, giving me an excuse to slip into the hallway. I connect the call. A shallow breath greets me on the other end. My prankster.
Annoyed, I warn, “Whoever this is, stop fucking around!” I end the call only to hear the phone ring again. No number. “What?” I snap.
The breathing comes again; deep, heavy breathing.
A tiny bit of anxiety runs through my body and I quickly look around the hallway. “Who is this?” I wait for the prankster to speak.
He doesn’t.
I end the call and shake my head. This is stupid. I can’t wait for Halloween to get here; I’m growing tired of all this shit. It’s freaking me the hell out. I sip at my whiskey sour, hoping it will calm my nerves, fully aware that it’s probably feeding my paranoia.
A group of noisy guys barrel down the hallway, sending my body into rigidity. Note to self: my flight or fight response is dulled by alcohol. If those guys were my pranksters, here to do something horrid, I’d be easy prey. By the time I recognize who they are it’s too late to hide my dread. Who invited the Soccer Gods?
Christian leads the way. “Hey, Princess.”
“Hey, Christian.” I focus only on Christian because I sense Aiden’s presence, and despite my Vixen’s pleas, it is unwelcome. I didn’t feel like dealing with Aiden’s’ shit attitude tonight, but I will not ask them to leave, even though my Angel insists.
“How’s the party?” Christian halts right in front of me. Dylan and Theodore flank him, and the others group behind them.
“Last time I checked, crowded. But we can always make room for more.” I lower my gaze and count all the legs. Yep, the whole soccer suite is here.
Where one of them goes they all go, my Angel drones unhappily.
I am just happy they didn’t bring the Soccer Sluts along with them.
“You don’t mind, do you? We needed something to do tonight.”
I shoot them all a smile and lie, “Nope, you guys are always welcome.”
Too much sexy in one room, my inner Vixen says as she fans herself. It’s true... every last one of them is gorgeous. So gorgeous, they make me uncomfortable. Especially Aiden Keys.
“Thanks, Princess,” Dylan plants a sweet kiss on my cheek as he passes through.
“You’re such a sweetheart,” Christian chimes in as he holds the door open.
“Stop sucking up, you’re already in.” Holding my phone tight to my chest, I watch each one walk in.
Aiden Keys is at the end of the line, gawking at me. I shift uncomfortably, my cheeks flushing in response to his glare. I fumble with my phone, avoiding eye contact and wait for him to enter.
He doesn’t go through the door. Instead, he passes by me and walks further down the hall, telling Christian, “I’ll be right in.”
Christian, who is holding the door, shoots me a quick glance. His jaw tenses for a split second before it relaxes and a hesitant smile appears on his lips. A smile probably meant to reassure me rather than fill me with anxiety. He exchanges a nod with Aiden, enters the suite and shuts the door behind him.
The hall is eerily silent.
Aiden shuffles behind me, spooking me. My eyes dart to him.
Sweltering brown eyes, holding a glint of curiosity, rake my body—learning me. My breath stills, heavy with a weight of his gaze, and my heart pumps a little quicker.
Out of fear.
Capturing Aiden’s attention isn’t always a positive thing and my body is innately aware of that. My spine steels as a result of the uncomfortable pressure between us. A hint of a smile appears on his lips and I freaking snap.
Now he smiles? After ignoring me for years and groping me in public? Ugh. One Frisbee to the forehead is not enough.
I cross my arms under my chest, pointing my chin toward the guy I maimed in the eye and push back, giving him my resting bitch face. “What are you looking at?”
My emotional whiplash does not go unnoticed. His brows knit in confusion; his perfectly designed lips flatten and turn into a frown. He lifts his hand to his brow and rubs at the bruised area above his eye.
A tinge of guilt trickles through me, but I swallow that shit down before it decides to utter an ‘I’m sorry’.
“You know what, Aiden?” he lifts a brow at my quirk and I smile smugly, addressing him for the first time. I chug some of my drink, allowing the alcohol to give me wings, and without inhibitions lay it out for him. “Being hot does not give you an excuse to be such a jackass. What is your problem anyway?” A millisecond is not enough time for him to answer, but I don’t care. That’s not the question I want answered. “What the hell are you doing here?” My hands cut through the air, as they point out the door, the hall, the proximity. “And what do you want?”
He snickers at me, letting me know he found my question amusing.
I snarl my lip and step towards him. “You are impossible! You self-centered…” My voice dies down when he advances, closing the distance between us with a stone hard expression on his face.
Shit. I panic. I pissed him off. “Uh,” I utter with a little less confidence as I step back and regain the distance. The fiery spark in his eyes sends alerts all through my system. Waves of heat roll over my skin and I’m too drunk to pinpoint why. Through the cloud of intoxication, I vaguely hear my Vixen but all my concentration is focused on the god before me.
I grab the collar of my shirt, flapping the fabric a couple times to ease the temperature. Aiden’s eyes trail down to my breasts, and I crush the fabric against my chest, shutting down the peep show. I muster up the courage again and carefully annunciate every word, “What do you want, Aiden?”
