Chapter 18
Roxy
It was Saturday night in the Barn, the main event space for the Lodge, and the graduation party was in full swing. Or it should have been? I couldn’t tell if the party was fun. The DJ spun a bunch of songs I didn’t recognize and the teens took a lot of videos on their phones. They weren’t dancing exactly. Or if they did it was only for like twenty seconds and then they’d clump together looking at the video they made. I do not understand teenagers. I didn’t even fit in with them when I was one. When I was eighteen, I was partying with the Wraiths in ways that made this party seem like a toddler’s birthday.
I stood on the edge of the room, watching and debating if it was time to leave. My responsibilities for the night were complete. I could use a cocktail and a break from these shoes.
“Someone needs to show these people how to party,” a voice whispered in my ear.
The vibration trailed down my spine, kissing each vertebra before settling in my lower body. Just a whisper in my ear … just a scent of him and a cascade of horny rippled through me.
Get a grip, woman.
“Sanders,” I said. “Hey.” I fixed my bangs.
My relief at seeing him was instant. Things ended weird the other night. I had been drunk and knew I was acting like an asshole. I had been so overwhelmed I slipped into Old Roxy habits.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
I wore a little black dress, my go-to for nighttime events. It was a simple shift dress made of a heavy jersey-type material but was slightly shiny, so it looked professional with my black heels and matching silk stockings.
He grabbed my hand and spun me around to get the full view. I rolled my eyes but liked the way he ate up my body like a sugary treat from the Donner Bakery dessert case. Maybe we could forget that the events at Genie’s ever happened. My overshare. His refusal to share. Tonight, he seemed set on flirtation.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I said.
His black button-up shirt looked crafted to his body. The strength earned from all his time outside, pulled the material tight around his strong shoulders and biceps. He wore matching black pants and a thin belt, nothing outrageously fancy but he looked amazing. It was nice to see him in something other than khaki hiking pants. Not that I minded those either. I liked how he looked all the time.
“I clean up okay.” He shrugged, backing away to look up at me with a pouty smolder. The dirty, little flirt.
“I remembered you said you had to work this party,” he explained. “I thought …” He looked to the side and then turned back to me. His focus snagged on my legs before returning to my face where it moved from my mouth to my eyes and all around. “Well, you mentioned never having prom or graduation, this is the next best thing.”
He looked so earnest as he spoke, so hot with his slicked-back hair and freshly shaved face. He was so sexy I couldn’t stand still. I wanted to rub my thighs together just to feel the silk material. I wanted to feel him roll the stockings off my body slowly, one at a time.
“Such a romantic,” I said having no clue how to even handle such a thoughtful gesture. “Thank you,” I added.
I reached out and squeezed his biceps without meaning too. The action surprised us both. I didn’t even know what happened. One moment I was standing there and the next my hands had a mind of their own.
He raised an eyebrow and cracked a smile.
Something shifted in me then. Like the final remnants of an ice cube dissolving, I gave in. I’d been trying so hard to maintain control when all I did was make everything worse. He came here to comfort me, to give me the dance I never had, even after my freak-out at Genie’s. It was time to just let our bodies take the lead for once.
“I was actually just about to leave,” I said, hoping he’d take the hint. Maybe we could go have a drink at the bar … maybe I could share with him the very expensive La Perla garter belt—purchased at sale seventy-five percent off—that held these stockings up.
His smile dropped. I realized too late how he would take that.
“Not sneaking out,” I said quickly, trying to poke fun at myself. “Maybe you and I …”
“This party is a stinker,” he said glancing around.
“Wait. What? What do you mean?” We looked around the room. More kids had moved to play with their phones at the tables.
He nodded looking concerned, hands deep in his pockets. “We have to do something.”
“I’ve done everything.” I started mentally going over the checklist for the party, the food, the decor, the music, everything had gone off without a hitch. But something was missing, I admitted to myself. It was … a bit of a snoozer.
“Let’s dance. Show them how it’s done,” he said.
“Right.” I laughed.
