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She snorts. “Oh no. We’re going out.”
I run my hands along the cool silk shorts, inwardly groaning at the thought of changing out of them. My legs are freshly shaved and lotioned, and all I wanted to do was lay down between my crisp sheets and read my book. “I’m not twenty-one, remember? You’re just going to have to wait another summer before I can go to the bars with you.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered. You need to let loose and I need to show you around the fun side of Nantucket. No more snooty uptight rich people shit.”
“I’m not saying you’re snooty or uptight, but you do know you’re richer than most of the people around here, right?”
“And yet we haven’t had any fun,” she pouts.
“That’s not true. I’ve had fun.”
Since we’ve been here I’ve already done more than I did in the entire summer I spent with the Kings. We’ve gone to eat at all her favorite spots, shopped at several boutiques, laid out at the beach every day, swam in the pool, watched loads of romcoms on the massive flatscreen, and we even had a picnic lunch at a nearby lake that I had no idea existed. Thank God it wasn’t the same lake Ethan took me to—I don’t know how I would’ve reacted had it been.
“Well, I haven’t had near enough fun. Now get dressed, we’re going out.”
An hour later we’re walking into the very same club that Bree had tricked me into getting turned away at the door. A pit eats at my stomach at the memories of Ethan taking me home. He’d been such a dick about it, but now I look back on those memories a little differently. I’d been so naive that night, riding my bike out here and thinking I could just walk in this place. He may not have been nice about it, but he was protecting me when nobody else cared.
I’m sure I’m going to be stopped and humiliated, but this time the bouncer is a different man and I’m with Sybil. She hands him several crisp one-hundred-dollar bills and the guy lets us in without question, he doesn’t even ask to see our IDs at all.
“Wait,” I whisper to her. “That was illegal.”
She laughs and gives me a wink. “Lifestyles of the rich and the famous, babe. Get used to it.”
I don’t know if I want to . . .
We head over to the bar and Sybil orders us cocktails. We drink them faster than we should and then she’s leading me out toward a group of hot guys who’ve been eyeing us, one of which just happens to be all too familiar. “Well, lookie who it is. Perry-Fucking-Hargrove,” Sybil slightly slurs his name and I could kill her.
“Was this another set up?” I say under my breath but she either doesn’t hear me or she pretends not to hear me. Perry is with three other men, all looking great and all with devilish grins plastered on their inebriated faces. Sybil eats it up, handing me off to Perry so she can flirt with the others.
“It’s good to see you again.” Perry’s voice is husky, his eyes lingering on my lips. I shift uncomfortably, and not because I’m wearing heels but because I thought we left things in a good place, that we’d agreed to be friends and nothing more. Now I’m not so sure he was being honest.
“Hello, Perry.” My voice is frosty.
He inches closer, the scent of alcohol a cloud around us. “Dance with me.”
It’s not a request, it’s an expectation, and before I can answer he’s taking my hand and we’re in the throng of people gyrating their bodies to the pulsing club music. His hands are on my body and he’s too close. Part of me wants to close my eyes and relax, maybe even pretend he’s somebody else. Maybe this isn’t a big deal, maybe friends dance with each other like this and he’s not angling for more.
My buzz makes everything go fuzzy and I find myself dancing with Perry, letting myself have fun instead of staying pissed off. Dancing with him, even dirty dancing, doesn’t have to mean anything. If I was Sybil, it might even mean a couple of hookups and nothing more. It won’t mean sex with me, it will just mean dancing, but that’s okay.
The song changes, the beat turning sultry, and Perry slides in behind me. His face nears the crook of my neck and his breath sends goosebumps skittering across my skin. He takes hold of my hips and presses me back against his hard chest. My dress is already too short and now it’s riding up. He slides his hand down the length of my body, fingers digging into the flesh of my upper thigh. I can feel his erection growing against my backside and he groans into my ear. “What kind of friends do you want to be?”
I step away and he lets me.
“Sorry, too forward?” Everyone dancing around us seems to be closing in, pushing us back together. He reaches out to tug me back against him. “No worries, Arden. I get it. Let’s just dance.”
But I’m done dancing.
“She doesn’t want you to touch her.” Someone growls over the music.
“What the fuck would you know about it?” Perry snaps back and I whip around to find Ethan and Cooper standing not two feet away from us.
These guys are all friends. Ethan and Cooper were the ones to introduce me to Perry in the first place. So why do they look like they want to rip each other’s heads off?
“Come on Arden, let’s get out of here.” Perry grabs for my hand, fingers digging into my wrist.
Ethan lunges at him.
It happens so fast I barely have a chance to register the moment Cooper yanks me behind him. Ethan’s fist connects with Perry’s face and Perry stumbles back, blood spurting from his nose. But he’s quick to recover, ramming his shoulder into Ethan’s stomach and taking him down.
