Page 7 of That Pretty Pucking Mouth

“We’re already here!” she shouts back.

I huff.I know I shouldn’t have come.

The interior is a clash of extravagant and rundown. Leather couches with torn seams line the walls, and tables that were probably expensive once are now sticky with spilled drinks and questionable substances. A chandelier dangles precariously from the ceiling, casting a dim, uneven light over the throng of people dancing, shouting, and stumbling their way through the maze of bodies. The smell of sweat, cheap cologne, weed and alcohol is almost suffocating.

In the distance, I catch a glimpse of a back patio where the real debauchery begins—beer pong, funnels, and half-naked guys showing off their latest trick shots. Upstairs? I can only imagine what’s going on behind the closed doors.

I side step a couple dressed as Sonny and Cher, making out against the stair railing, oblivious to the chaos around them. The girl’s wig slips off, but neither of them seems to care. Their sloppy kisses are just another part of the spectacle, blending into the hedonistic swirl of the night.

Cassidy tugs at my hand and I turn back to her, wishing I had bleach for my eyes.

“Let’s go get a drink!” she shouts and motions to the kitchen.

I’ll need a drink if I want to survive this night.

I follow her through the crowd, shoving aside sweaty gyrating bodies, till we finally arrived at our destination.

The kitchen is a whirlwind of activity, with people clustered around a marble island which doubles as a bar and is stacked with various liquor bottles and an impressive pyramid of red cups. The air is thick with laughter and the sharp tang of spilled alcohol, making my head spin a little. A few guys are engaged in a rowdy game of beer pong at the far end, the sound of ping pong balls ricocheting off the table mingling with the music pulsing from the other room.

Cassidy grabs some cups from a lower stack, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she scans the crowd of hollering guys at the other end of the kitchen.

“What do you want?” she asks, already reaching for a bottle of something that looks suspiciously like Vodka.

“Surprise me,” I reply, trying to sound more enthusiastic than I feel. I watch her pour a drink into one of the cups. She hands it over to me with a grin. I hesitate before taking a sip.

The burn hits me instantly and I grimace slightly, swallowing it down. Warmth spreads through me, settling in my belly and easing the tight knot of apprehension in my chest.

Yep! Vodka.

“See? This is what it’s all about!” Cassidy exclaims, her laughter ringing in my ears as she drags me further into the chaos. For a moment, the overwhelming crowd and raucous laughter drown out my worries, and I almost feel like I belong here.

We dance for a while, bodies moving in sync to the beat. Eventually, a couple guys join us, and we all grind and bop to the song blaring through the speakers. I feel my dance partner’s hands slide over my hips, drawing me closer. I smile, the alcohol already making my head fuzzy. His hands feel good. Warm and big.

I like big hands.

Oh God, when was the last time I had sex?

“Hey, want another drink?” a deep voice sounds by my ear, and I nod dazedly, allowing him to lead me through the crowd to the kitchen again.

Under the fluorescent lights, I finally see his face. Hot. Alluring. Tattoos. Wow.

He hands me a cup, bringing his to his lips. I do the same, swallowing down the liquor, the burn now a satisfying warmth in my chest. I keep my eyes on him because he’s so hot.

“Fuck,” he says, staring at my lips.

I take another sip to hide them. “What?”

His eyes meet mine. “What’s your name?”

I smile. “You first.”

“Jack.”

I watch him closely. I like that name.

“Rhea,” I say.

Nodding, he leans across the island and tops off my drink from the open bottle in his hand. His eyes dark and hot, “Cheers, Rhea.”

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