Page 28 of Thief of my Heart

It’s called alcohol, you idiot. And you’d know this if you got out more.

I knew what he wanted. Knew what I wanted. But not with him. Not after what he’d done.

“Asshole,” I heard Angie mutter to Linda.

I was drunk, but it was enough to wake me up. I stepped out of Victor’s grasp and rejoined my friends.

“It was nice to see you,” I told him.

“Come on, babe, let’s dance a little,” Victor called. “Get to know each other a little more. Or are you still the Cherry Popper.”

“Fuck off,” Linda spat. “Don’t nobody want your two-timing bullshit, Victor.”

I didn’t stop to see his reaction. I’d already turned on my heel and made for the Jungle Juice dispenser like it was an orange beacon calling me to safety.

“Lea,” Angie called as my friends chased after me. “Le! Be careful. That shit is potent.”

“Good,” I said before tossing back another plastic cupful, and then holding it out to Robbie for more. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

“Lea, maybe you wanna wait…” Robbie glanced nervously back and forth between me and my friends. Angie seemed to intimidate him.

“I already gave you an extra ten to keep it coming, Robbie,” I snapped as I shoved my cup at him. “Fill it up.”

After the third on, I was starting to feel like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Everything was spinning. There was nothing to hold on to, so I might as well dive in all the way.

“What are you trying to do?” Linda asked. “Get drunk and get laid?”

“Maybe,” I said as I caught Victor watching me, a sneer on his face while he chatted with another girl. They both start laughing with his friends. I turned away. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should get it over with.”

“Lea, come on,” Linda replied. “Be reasonable. This is you we’re talking about.”

“I am being reasonable,” I half-slurred. “I’m done being the last lamest virgin in Belmont who can’t even string two sentences together when her lame ex-boyfriend licks his lips. Even my little sister beat me to the punch. It’s time.”

The pitying expressions on my friends’ faces didn’t help matters. It was plain they both agreed with me.

“So, that’s it,” I proclaimed. “I’m thinking, let’s throw caution to the wind. Next new hottie I see who doesn’t need Proactiv and who didn’t already break my heart gets to pop this cherry. What do you think?”

Robbie Caldera’s jaw about hit the floor before he scurried away, probably the share the news. Angie and Linda both exploded in giggles, but they didn’t seem to be looking at the absent Jungle Juice monitor.

I frowned at them. “What?”

Okay, I was talking big, but I figured they’d be into it after the way they’d been pestering me all evening.

“Le,” said Angie as she pointed over my shoulder. “Girl, I think you got your wish.”

“Lea?”

The sound of my name in that familiar deep timbre set every hair on the back of my neck standing straight up.

“Is it…?” I mouthed to Angie, who laughed harder.

I looked around. And almost died right there.

At not quite six feet, he didn’t tower over anyone, but he still managed to look like he could by the way his plain white T-shirt clung to his broad, squared shoulders. The material was practically indecent, thin enough that I could see tattooed shadows swirling up his biceps and under the cotton.

His dark hair was mussed, like he hadn’t taken the time to do it. But it only added to the devil-may-care appeal in everything but his eyes—those dark, mournful, earnest eyes—as they traveled over the crowd, taking everything in.

Then they landed back on me. And did not move.

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