Page 59 of A Voice In Chains
People always think they’re your best friend when they’ve had a few.
“Sure,” I mutter, gesturing for another one.
Moments later, armed with two red solo cups, I’m about to exit the kitchen when Amy intercepts me in the doorway.
Biting her lip, she lets her eyes roam the length of me in my blue button-down and jeans. “Hi, baby.”
I squeeze past, not in the mood for her tonight.
She’s surprisingly fast, rounding me before I can hand Harrison his beer. “You haven’t responded to my text messages.”
I hike a brow, and her smile falters when I don’t reply. She looks around briefly before moving closer. “I said I was sorry.”
“Is that why you flirted with Arkin in the canteen the other day? Because you’re sorry?”
“You know I only did that to get your attention.”
I move past her again, and she scrambles to keep up.
“When will you forgive me?” she asks, intercepting me again and running her hands up my chest with a pout. “Let me make it up to you.”
Sensing eyes on me, I glance across the room.
Arkin is still dancing with the girl.
Suddenly hot for different reasons, I swallow.
“Zach?” Amy asks with a hint of impatience, and I refocus on my ex-girlfriend, who stands too close to be appropriate.
“It’s over between us.”
We’ve broken up before. I always take her back for some unknown reason, but this is the first time I won’t be swayed by her low-cut dress or the way she traces my belt buckle with her long pink nail. I’m not even tempted.
She puts her hand on her chest in a dramatic fashion. “You don’t mean that, Zach.”
“Yes, I do.” I push past her.
She doesn’t follow this time. Good thing too, or I might lose my temper.
Harrison is still on the armchair, tonguing the girl’s tonsils, when I return with the alcohol. After putting his beer on the coffee table, I plop down on the couch and kick my ankle up on my knee, solo cup at my lips.
The girl Arkin dances with swings around to rub her pert ass against his crotch, and I take a large swallow of beer, allowing the cool liquid to melt away some of the jealousy stirring in my gut. Her long, toned legs go on for miles in those tall heels, while the short skirt swishes around her thighs.
She’s hot.
Crushing the now empty cup, I toss it over the back of the couch, wondering if Arkin is attracted to her. I don’t know how that makes me feel, but it stirs up a lot of complicated emotions that would take an age to pick apart and analyze.
Jealousy is at the forefront.
I’m possessive of Arkin. I know that much. It’s not like I really wish to share him with anyone else. Still, the sexual tension on the dance floor is strangely stimulating, and the slow, sultry beat pulsates the air around us as they dance.
Minutes pass before Harrison and his girl get up to find somewhere private. She leads him through the crowds, and he winks at me.
I’m pleasantly drunk when a pretty girl in a short leather skirt drapes herself across my lap and strokes my hair away from my brow. But my attention isn’t on her.
It’s on Arkin. Always on Arkin.
He’s watching me too.
