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Lily takes my hand and we snag Ashton away from Brendan to drag her outside with us. Kaely is sitting on Lance's lap, so we completely destroy that moment when we tug her away. We dance until our bodies are slick and my curls are a mess. Stefan continues to deliver shots that make getting lost in the music that much easier. The entire time, I feel Joey watching, his eyes shooting electrified shivers along my skin. But he stays away. And I'm thankful he does because if he were to come up behind me, I know I'd let him put his hands on my hips and his mouth on my neck.
"Which room are we staying in?" I ask Lily, needing to use the bathroom and get a bottle, or two, of water.
"Second door in from the stairs," she says, taking my hand and spinning herself beneath it. "Hurry back."
I squeeze through the crowd, not cognizant of when this many people arrived.
I find our bags on the ends of two queen beds in a huge bedroom that overlooks the decks and the lake. Thankfully, there's a bathroom connected to it. After rinsing the sweat off my face and dabbing it from my cleavage, I reapply makeup and return to the bedroom, where Joey is looking out the window, watching the people dancing below.
"What are you doing in here?" I ask. He spins around.
Joey has a flat, square box in his hand wrapped in the same raspberry ribbon that was used for the phone box. "Wanted to give you this. But I didn't think I should in front of everyone."
"You bought me a present?" I approach him slowly, careful not to get too close. I try so hard not to look into his eyes, but when I reach for it, his hand brushes against mine and a spark of heat courses through me, all the way to my spine. I glance up, and he's as still as I am.
"You felt that," he says so low I can barely hear him. "I know you did."
I swallow and take the box from him before moving away. Inside is my headband. The one that resembles a tiara with its intricate weave of crystals. The same one my grandmother gave to my mother, who then handed it down to me. My eyes water at the sight of it. I was convinced I'd lost it. It shimmers as it catches the light.
"I found it in the grass," he explains. "It was broken, so I had someone fix it. I had a feeling it means something to you."
I swallow the emotion caught in my throat, remembering how I wore it every birthday since I was ten, paired with some ridiculous tulle dress. "Thank you."
I take it out and tuck the box inside my bag, before sliding it on my head. I approach the mirror hung above the dresser and adjust my hair around it. Joey steps up behind me and I flip my eyes to his reflection. He smiles at me. My heartbeat picks up. He inches closer. I can't breathe. His hand skates along my shoulder, down my arm to my hand. I close my eyes. His lips dance along my skin. I lean back and dip my head to the side, allowing him access. He grips my hip and spins me to face him. I'm practically panting, my entire body pounding. I reach up just as he bends toward me. His mouth is urgent as his fingers dig into my hips, pulling me against him. I moan into his mouth, sliding my fingers into his hair.
I'm lost in his touch. This kiss. The pressure of his body against mine as he clutches me tighter. We trip toward the bed. He's just about to pull me down with him, when something breaks. Or shatters, like it was trapped and fought to be released.
It's a thought. Three words.
It's a lie.
I push him away. And the veil of lust lifts. I can breathe fully as soon as he releases me. I blink as if roused from a dream. A very vivid and hot dream. But still, it's not real.
"Did I do something wrong?" His expression is mixed with fear and concern. "Lana?"
"I can't do this." My words are slow and methodical, like I'm coming to this realization as I'm saying it. My heartbeat slows and returns to normal. "It doesn't feel right."
"Uh," he says, unable to respond because he knows it felt amazing. But that's not what I mean. It didn't feel right, emotionally. I wasn't connected. And I'm not saying I need to have feelings to kiss him. But considering how much passion there was behind it, I should feel something.
"I'm sorry," I tell him, my eyes flickering between his, trying to find words to explain. To erase the pain that causes his eyes to flinch. But how do I tell him that what we have between us is an illusion. The draw. The attraction. The need. It's just lust. And the part of me that fought to break free from the enchantment of his touch, knows it's not what I want. "I wish it was more."
"Do you? Really?" He sits on the bed and runs a hand through his hair. "Because if you do, then let it be more. I have feelings for you, Lana. It's not just physical for me."
"It's just physical for me," I say in a whisper. He closes his eyes as if absorbing a blow. Damn my curse. "That's what I mean. I wish it was more than that. But it's not. And that's why I'm sorry."
He nods slowly.
"And Joey, how can you possibly have feelings for me? We only had one night--"
"You don't remember," he says with a humorless laugh. "I've met you before, Lana."
I narrow my eyes, searching my memory. "I would have remembered."
if this could be true. "I would have remembered."
"Guess not," he says with a defeated shake of his head. "I was at a house party in Sherling with Lincoln the summer before freshman year. You were there with the girls. We talked for a while. I wanted to ask for your number, but you disappeared."
"Was ... Parker there too?" I ask, searching my memory. Joey couldn't have looked that different in just two years. That was the summer Parker kissed me. I talked to him at a party for a long time, or at least, I thought it was him.
