Page 8 of They Break Beauty

All she’d seen from me was pretty much my reinvented version, consisting of the bubbly and happy-go-lucky disposition I worked hard not only to put out there, but to keep feeling myself.

I had to.

When I didn’t, when I slipped a little, it… it hurt. The dark memories tried to dig their claws into me.

Chloe snatched the water from me, giving me a pout for good measure.

“Slowly,” I warned her, as she started gulping it down.

She took my advice and shifted to taking sips.

It was the first of my advice that she had actually taken tonight.

And that wasn’t like her, like us.

I eased myself onto the edge of the lounger by her feet. “What’s going on with you tonight?”

“Nothing,” she said, still sipping at her water, while looking at the naked show behind me in the pool.

“You were worked up when I picked you up. On edge in a hyper, nervous energy sort of way. Then as soon as we got here, you downed two of those mini bottles of vodka that are all over this house like freaking decorations and basically dry humped the first frat guy you saw. And since then you’ve been knocking back beer after beer.”

“Hey, that guy was hot. And he really turned it on.”

“He welcomed you to the party and asked for a dance.”

“He was wearing leather pants. You know I’m a sucker for those.”

“Chloe,” I pushed, tapping her ankle.

She shoved a hand through her hair and stared at me with her glazed, pissed-drunk eyes.

It looked like she was actually on the verge of confiding in me like she always did.

But then she blinked, put the water bottle down and jumped to her feet. “We’re here to party, not for a fucking therapy session, Bree.”

She staggered in her step, headed for the pool.

I reacted quickly before she reached the edge, just as she was moving to lift her dress up and flash everyone.

“Uh uh,” I said, grasping her hand before she could expose herself.

She pouted at me again. “You’re no fun tonight. I mean, you’ve barely even had a drink.”

“I’m the designated driver.”

“It’s more than that. I thought we came here to have fun.”

“We did. But it’s hard to enjoy anything when you’re drunk off your ass and barely even aware of anything around you. Did you even see the food they have here? It’s high-end stuff, not just chips and dip. There are games happening in a couple of massive rooms downstairs. A karaoke competition in another.”

“Well, my idea of fun is stripping naked and playing with the girls and boys in the pool.”

“That’s the alcohol talking. You don’t even like showing too much cleavage with what you wear. I’m not about to believe you’d really be fine with exposing yourself—not in the light of day when you’ve sobered up.”

“Urgh,” she groused. “Let’s at least go back to the dancefloor then.”

“Fine, but just dancing. No hooking up.”

Mischief shone in her eyes, but she did move away from the pool, and then we were heading back inside to the main house, the thumping of the bass guiding the way to the dance area that the frats had set up, even along with some strobe lighting.

---