Page 32 of Purity

“Do you like that?” Travis’s voice vibrates in my ear, and a jolt of alarm punctures my heavy daze. How did I forget about Travis? When I twist around to look at his face, my stomach does an unpleasant little turn. There are two of him. There are actually two of him, like I’ve seen in movies. I blink hard, and when I open my eyes, the images are fused, but only for a moment, and then they split into two again.

This isn’t good.

“Yeah, I liked that,” I say, hoping to hide my nervousness.

He smiles and pulls me close, and the warmth of his body eases some of my anxiety, but the feeling is short lived.

Travis pulls away from me so suddenly that I almost lose my balance. A firm grip on my arm pulls me upright.

“What the fuck?” Travis shouts.

“She’s not going anywhere near you,” Cole grits out. “I’m taking her home.”

My sluggish confusion quickly shifts into indignation. “I’m not going home now. The night’s barely started.”

When Cole turns to me, his jaw is set, but his eyes are softer than they were a moment ago. “I’ve been watching you for the last half hour. You’re really drunk, Liv. Too drunk.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Half hour? I’ve only been dancing for, like, two minutes.”

“Trust me, it’s been half an hour, and he’s been getting handsier every second.” His expression grows hard as his gaze shifts to Travis.

“Dude, chill the fuck out. I didn’t do anything she didn’t want me to do.”

I’m about to open my mouth to agree with him when nausea overtakes me suddenly. I turn around and rush in the direction of the door. The mugginess of the warm bodies around me makes bile rise at the back of my throat. I don’t make it far before a pair of strong hands grip my waist.

“I’ve got you.”

Cole’s voice sends a rush of warmth through me, momentarily distracting me from my sickness. He cuts through the crowd with such force that most people step away to let him through.

As soon as we make it outside, I inhale a deep breath of ocean air, and it instantly calms the stirring in my gut.

“Are you okay?” His voice is gentle.

“I’m fine.” At least I have the wherewithal to recognize that my words aren’t quite precise.

“Sweetheart, you’re wasted. If you’re not feeling good, just tell me.”

“I’m a little dizzy. I think the shots finally fully hit me.”

When he tightens his grip on my waist and pulls my back against his chest, electricity shoots into my gut. “What can I get for you?”

I relax into his warmth. “Let’s go to another bar. Just the two of us.”

He jerks back. “No, I’m taking you home. You’ve had way too much.”

“We can’t leave Mariana.”

“She’ll be fine. Zac already promised to get her home safe.”

I frown. “I want to dance more.”

“That’s the alcohol talking. If I let you on a dance floor, you’re going to fall over.”

I twist around in his grip so that I can stare up into his eyes. “Then dance with me. You can hold me up.”

Something flashes in his eyes, but then he looks away. “No. We’ll try this again another night. Come to my place now so you can rest before I take you home. That way you don’t have to worry about your parents seeing you drunk.”

Goodness, resting at his place sounds so good. He’ll probably rub my back until I fall asleep, like the time I got sick at his apartment. He’s so caring.

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