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Ashley reads it out loud for everyone to hear. “Who is the hottest person in the room right now?”
Blanching, Sorrell turns the color of a freshly bleached sheet. “I thought these were supposed to be dares?”
God.
She’s so fucking stunning.
I can’t take my eyes off her.
The guys in charge of the game—two idiots from the football team—jostle and roughhouse, bickering about something, but I pay them no heed. They earn my attention when one of them calls Sorrell ‘Wolf Girl,’though. She’s always been sensitive about her eyes. Has always hated people commenting or remarking on them. I think her eyes are fucking mesmerizing, but Voss has never liked people pointing out the one thing about her that so blatantly marks her as different. I make a mental note to knock this guy’s front fucking teeth out later.
Sorrell doesn’t flinch away from the old nickname that’s followed her since middle school tonight. She accepts a Jell-O shot and throws it back, smiling as she points a finger across the kitchen and says, “Him.”
A random dude I’ve never seen before points at himself and says, “Me?”
“No. Behind you.” A tiny, teasing smile pulls at the corners of Voss’ mouth.
Everyone turns and looks. They realize pretty quickly what I’ve already realized: she is talking aboutme.
“Goddamnit, Merchant. I thought for sure she was gonna say it was me. Why don’t you find somewhere else to skulk, you bastard?” one of the guys from the football team grouses. A Seattle Mariners ball cap hits the cabinet door next to my head—I’m fairly sure it was supposed to hit me in the face. I ignore the slight. My eyes are locked on Sorrell.
The house could be on fire.
I could be seconds from getting smoked by a car.
I could be moments away from walking off the edge of a cliff.
I still wouldn’t be able to look away from her.
She is the loveliest thing I’ve ever witnessed.
Taking a slow sip from my whiskey, I relish the heat that flares behind my ribcage, but it’s not from the alcohol this time. It’s from the knowledge that something has shifted between Voss and me now. Ever since she came back, things have been weird between us. A taut tension has festered away, where before it didn’t. The ease that used to exist between us was the kind of comfortability that exists between siblings. The electricity that’s snapped and burned at us over the past couple of weeks has been very,verydifferent. I’ve known it. She’s known it. I told myself that I’ve been giving her time to settle back into life at Sumner, letting her get used to Toussaint. I’ve kept my mouth shut, afraid that if I say anything or make a move, I’ll ruin the friendship.
Sorrell has just been brave for the both of us, and holyfuckis my dick hard right now.
I smile slowly at her over the rim of my glass, and it’s a mistake, because I see the fire in her eyes, the way she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, wetting it, and the primal part of my brain screams to life.
Charge her.
Grab her.
Take her.
Claim her.
She’s mine.
Mine.
Mine.
MINE.
Fuck, I have to get out of here before I do something highly fucking illegal. Slowly, I turn and walk out of the kitchen, the sound of my pulse slamming in my ears, drowning out the thumping bassline of the music in the hall.
I’ve made it halfway to the stairs when a hand lands on my shoulder, spinning me around.
Sorrell’s cheeks are flushed crimson. She’s breathing so rapidly, it looks like her tits are going to spill over the top of her tight dress any second. God, her skin is fucking perfect. Flawless. The color of fresh poured cream and alabaster. Her eyes dance with electricity, so fucking strange and wonderful. She’s never looked at me like this before.
