Page 8 of Backstroke

She giggles as I pull her away. “Lynds, he’s a total creeper. Please, tell me you see it.”

“But he’s so hot, Fal!” She shimmies away from me and takes her drink. I know everyone will make their own mistakes, but I hope hers won’t be this guy.

“Here, gorgeous,” he winks. I take my cup and down half the beer. The bitter taste coats my tongue, making me want to gag. For my first alcoholic beverage, I’d say it sucks. I never had the time to go to parties when I was in high school, so this is my first taste of teenage rebellion and it’s shittier than I expected. No matter how much my friends tried to persuade me back then, I stood firm. I take another gulp, cringing at the sour taste, but it doesn’t stop me from drinking. If anything, it’ll help make this night bearable.

Lyndsy and Rowyn, drinks in hand, head towards the makeshift dance floor where a crowd is already swaying to the music. The living room has been cleared of furniture to create space for dancing and the pulsating lights add to the party atmosphere.

“Come on, Fallon! Dance with us!” Rowyn calls out, her voice barely audible over the music. I’m concentrating too much on not spilling my drink and balancing my weight in these heels todo any dancing, so I slink off to the side. I find a spot near the wall where I can keep an eye on them. Sipping my beer, I scan the room and am surprised with the elegance of this house. I mean damn, this place is basically a mansion.

Some are dancing, while others are chatting in clusters and a few are playing drinking games at the dining table. The atmosphere is electric, but I feel like an outsider looking in.

I feel his heated gaze on me before I see him. My head turns slowly as the guy from the quad descends the stairs. Girls begin fawning over him, but his eyes never leave mine. The arrogant stormy blues feel like they’re burning my skin. I take a sip from my empty cup, using it as a distraction to look away.

My heart races as I try to steady my breathing.Why is he looking at me like that?I glance back at Lyndsy and Rowyn who are lost in the music, completely unaware of my internal turmoil.

The music slows and there’s a lull in the crowd. Without looking back, I move away from the wall and hopefully far from the asshat I ran into earlier. A large hand grips my wrist, holding me in place.

“And where do you think you’re going?” His deep gravelly voice skims across my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. Deciding not to give a response, I twist my hand from his grasp and duck through a crowd of people to get to the kitchen. I pause for a moment, trying to decide whether I need another drink or to get out of this house altogether. At the last second, I decide another drink is needed, because I’m not letting this jerk get to me.

I hear loud cheering behind me and I roll my eyes in response.

“Remy! Remy!” Several girls call out. That must be the bastard’s name. It sounds as pretentious as he is.

“Un-fucking-believable,” I mutter under my breath. The kitchen is mostly empty now. Mr. Red Flags must be entertained elsewhere. At least that’s one less asshole I have to deal with. Igrab the closest bottle of booze that I recognize from my father’s old collection, pour a good bit into my cup and down it in one go. The amber liquid burns my throat like acid, but I can already feel a warm sensation spreading through my body.

I’m going to need more if I’m going to endure this night. The nozzle to the keg is unoccupied, so I fill my cup to the brim. As I take another sip, the warmth spreads, dulling the edges of my anxiety. I lean against the counter, watching the ebb and flow of people around me. The music picks up again and the house vibrates with energy.

As I turn, some of my drink sloshes out when I hit the same hard body. The universe can go fuck itself with this shit.

“Seems like someone needs to teach you some manners,” I huff, taking a step back. He grins, then grabs my drink, finishing it in one gulp. Crumbling the cup, he tosses it in the trash without taking his eyes from mine.

“I thought I told you to watch where the fuck I’m going,” he muses, as he presses me against the counter.

“Yeah, and I said you could go fuck yourself.” I try to slide under his arms, but he closes them, caging me in.

“I warned you that your mouth would get you in trouble,” he tsks.

“Is that right?” I peer around the handsome prick at his adoring fans. “Looks like your little groupies need some attention.”

He glances over his shoulder at the crowd of admirers, then back at me with a smirk. “They can wait. I’m more interested in you right now.”

I roll my eyes, trying to hide my discomfort. “Well, I’m not interested in being part of your fan club.”

He tilts his head back and laughs as he runs his hand through his dark brown hair.Why do the twatwaffles have to be hot ashell?My fingers itch to trace along the angular curve of his jaw and down the strong column of his neck.Fallon, get a grip.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Who said anything about being a fan? I think you’re more than that,” he quips with a knowing smile. I feel like he read where my mind just went, making me want to punch his perfect face. I need to get out of here and out of his proximity.

“Well, I’d say this has been fun but…it hasn’t, so if you’ll excuse me…” I motion for him to move to the side, but he remains firmly planted before me. His large hands close in tighter around my waist as he presses his body into mine. His fresh, woodsy cologne assaults my senses, causing a momentary fog and lapse in judgment. I stay planted for a moment, staring into the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Are you always this sarcastic with people you’ve just met?” he challenges.

“Not at all. Just with overconfident dickwads,” I smirk. He growls in frustration, and the sound reverberates through my body, sending goosebumps across my skin. Remy leans in closer, ghosting his warm breath along my neck.

“Oh, I’ll show you exactly what this dick can do.” His threat lingers on his lips as he inches away from me. Before I can respond, Rowyn comes to my aid and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’ve been looking for you, Fallon. Lyndsy wants to go out by the pool. Wanna join?” At the mention of the pool, memories of that day surface in my mind and I can feel myself swirling around and around in the unforgiving ocean. Fear grips at my chest, making it hard to breathe. She must see the hesitation in my eyes, because she speaks up.

“It’s totally fine if not,” she shrugs her shoulders.

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