Page 7 of Revolve
Every head in my vicinity turns when she crosses the threshold into the party and the light above the door illuminates her. The guys from the basketball team who were playing Ping-Pong let the ball fall aimlessly to where it rolls across the hardwood to land by her white shoes.
Silky black hair, fair skin, and red lips make everything about her face stand out. Her white skirt hugs her curves, drawing my gaze to trail the smooth skin of her toned legs. When I look up, her emerald eyes pierce mine. Fucking smoke show.
That’s when I recognize her as the girl from outside the rink earlier today, the one whispering to herself as I held open the door. She seemed so … lost then. Now she’s all fucking fire.
I think I had said something to her, something about biting. She must be thinking the same thing, because her eyes flicker, until her red-haired friend pulls her into the next room.
Trouble.
The warning in my head is usually my sign to follow her right to where she disappeared, but tonight, I’m on my best behavior.
“Oh, come on. You are not leaving. I know that look,” says Sampson, blocking my exit.
Ignoring him, I walk away but not before I hear him shout, “Booo!” in my direction. I signal Kian that I’m leaving, because if I ditched him, I’d hear about it for days.
“Nooooo,” Kian whines. “Don’t leave. We’re going to play drunk Jenga.”
“You play. I’ll see you at home.” He hugs me then, his sticky abdomen rubbing against mine. If I was hammered, I wouldn’t give a shit, but right now I’m desperate for a shower.
Just when I think I can sneak out the back without bumping into anyone else, the stoner girl from upstairs stops me. Being known is allgood and well until people can’t leave you alone. She blows smoke in my face, then places the joint between my lips. The warnings in my head are blaring, ones I’ve never bothered to listen to until right now.
It’s new and fucking annoying.
Without taking a puff, I slip it from my lips and hand it back to her. She watches me, surprised I didn’t indulge. Not even when I suddenly remember exactly who she is—blindfold, gag, and a whole lot of rope. Great, even the good memories are starting to sour.
I push past the people blocking the stairs of the porch and charge down, my eyes locked on the side gate. In my haste, I bump into someone, not slowing down as I rush by. The late August air is still warm, so my messily painted, shirtless state doesn’t bother me.
“Hey, asshole!” someone shouts behind me. I don’t turn to see which poor fucker is getting chewed out.
Is there a lock on the gate? Do I have to hop over the rotting fence to get this night over with? I’m halfway across the Solo cup–littered lawn, when a small hand grips my biceps and yanks me back.
“Hey! I’m talking to you.” The voice is slightly raspy, and much too confident for the weak attempt at stopping me.
I turn to see dark hair, green eyes, and red lips.Trouble. “Me?”
The girl glares at me with her hands planted on her hips, like she could take me. Likeshe’sthe one who’s six foot four.
“You just knocked into my friend and spilled her drink all over her,” she accuses.
“Friend?” I make a show of looking around her. “Are you one of those people who have imaginary friends? Sorry, I’m not drunk enough to pretend they’re real tonight.”
I’m enjoying this too much for someone who should be leaving this party. Green, angry eyes dart to the porch to find nothing but people drinking and a couple making out dangerously close to the firepit.
“Fine,” I sigh and look to the empty spot beside her. “Hello, my name is—”
She slaps my extended hand out of the way before I can introduce myself to herfriend. “I’m not crazy. You bumped into my real-life friend back there.”
“As opposed to the fake one standing beside you? I think she’s thirsty; you should get her a drink.”
She deadpans, “I assume they don’t teach manners at frat school.”
I tilt my head. “If you wanted to talk to me, you didn’t need to make up an excuse. You’re hot enough.”Enoughdoesn’t even cut it, butfuckdo I like the way the comment makes her eyes blaze.
Focus. I need to get out of here.
She scoffs. “I’m not here totalkto you. I could find at least ten of your kind inside.”
“Mykind? You’re the one who ran across the lawn just to get my attention.”
