Page 90 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

“What’re you doing here?” he asks her.

“Just stealing some free booze. You?”

Lifting the beer bottle in a cheers motion, he answers, “Same.”

“Ah, and here I’d been hoping for another game of Strip Pong,” Tukani chimes in.

“Since you put up such a good fight the first time,” Blakely jokes.

A rumble of laughter echoes from Tukani as Depp adds, “Bet Burrows would love to have another stab at––”

“Aaaand we’re going inside,” I interrupt, pressing my hand to Blake’s back again. It takes everything inside of me to keep from tossing her over my shoulder and racing back to my car, but I control myself. For now, anyway.

“See you later, guys!” Blake calls over her shoulder and peeks up at me as we step inside the house. “Is there a problem, Teddy?”

“No problem.”

“You sure?”

“What makes you think I have a problem?”

“You’re being particularly pushy tonight.”

“I’m always pushy,” I remind her.

She hesitates, considering my comment, then letting out a soft laugh. “Good point. We should––”

“Theo!” a high-pitched voice interrupts, hitting a frequency sounding almost like nails on a chalkboard, only worse.

My expression falls as I catch the culprit striding toward us on stilettos. Missy Beckman. One of the bunnies. She rises onto her tiptoes and kisses my cheek, the sour scent of alcohol on her breath. “Why haven’t you called me lately, Theo? I’ve missed you.”

“And on that note,” Blake interjects. “I’m going to grab a drink.” She slips through the crowd, heading toward the kitchen without a backward glance. It’s like the first night she came to the Taylor House all over again.

Thanks a lot, Missy.

27

BLAKELY

I pour the Crush and vodka over ice into the red plastic cup, hating the jealousy as it crashes through my system like a massive wave, especially when it’s so damn unwarranted.

What? He isn’t allowed to say hi to the opposite sex anymore?

Come on, Blake. Take a chill pill.

I go easy on the vodka, adding another splash of Crush to balance out my drink and head outside, dodging around a couple going at it like rabbits in the kitchen. Suddenly, the party ambiance feels overwhelming, and the idea of some fresh air sounds like heaven. I leave a wide berth between me and the Beer Pong tournament on the back patio. Burrows is in his element beating Austin, but I ignore the look he gives me and keep walking, grateful for my insistence on wearing sneakers instead of the heels Mia suggested when dressing me up like a Barbie doll tonight. At least my shoes won’t get caught in the grass.

I snort at the idea of me in heels and bring the cup to my lips, taking a small sip. Ash and Colt are talking near one of the large maple trees in the side of the yard, and I stop short when I see them. She looks sad, wiping at her cheeks as Colt pulls her into a hug. She lets him and rests her head against his chest.

Yikes.

What’s going on?

I’m most definitely intruding, though I don’t want to turn around and walk inside, either. But sticking around doesn’t exactly sound like my cup of tea at the moment. Tiptoeing a few paces back, a stick cracks beneath my shoe, and I freeze.

Dammit.

As if they can feel my stare, Colt lets Ash go and walks toward me, a frown marring his features.

---