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“Nah. You just know what you want and that’s not one of them.” I shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“I don’t even know what I want.” Gigi looked around her. Her gaze landed on something that caused the red in her cheeks to become even more pronounced. “I feel like a dirty old woman.”
“Youarea dirty old woman.” Meadow laughed.
“Is there something wrong with me?” Gigi asked, her brows narrowing. “Guys my own age don’t do it for me. Hell, Vincent’s more mature than them.”
I followed her gaze. Vincent Junior stood off with some of his friends. He was Luna’s younger brother and while he was much younger than us, he was a good guy and was highly mature for his age. “He’s only a few years younger than you. Luna is only a couple years younger than Zach.”
“That’s different,” Gigi muttered.
“How? Sunny and Shade are twenty years older than me.” Meadow patted her own shoulder. “I’m so proud of myself right now.”
We laughed.
“Listen, Gigi. Vincent is young but he’s mature.” I had to admit that Gigi was right though. Vincent Juniorwasgood-looking.
“True.” Gigi sighed. “He probably hasn’t noticed me anyway.”
I bit back a scoff, but I understood her doubts. Hell, I had them about Jaron and myself. My body heated, and that was when I remembered that my thong was currently sitting in Jaron’s pocket.
Gigi and I both stood at the same time, bumping our hands together and knocking over our wine.
Giggles erupted between us.
A red stain spread on my dress. I wanted to change anyway but at least this would give me a better excuse.
“I’m so sorry.” Gigi pouted. “What a waste of wine.”
“No problem.” I patted her hand. “I was going to change anyway.”
I excused myself. As much as I enjoyed feeling Jaron’s cum on my thighs, it gave me a reason to have a moment alone. And also a moment to grab more wine. More wine was always needed.
Once I reached my room, I went in search of something new to wear.
A soft knock on the door a moment later, startled me.
“Coming,” I called out, wiping the wet spot on my dress. Of course I had to wear white. Why would it make sense not to wear white when I was drinking red wine? I mentally smacked myself.
Opening the door, I stared up into Brody’s deep green eyes. My stomach twisted as I remembered the new information I was given about him. Knowing I had to play it cool and not act like anything was wrong, I smiled up at him.
“Hey, Brody. I was just cleaning my dress. Or trying to.” I looked down at the stain that was now pink. “Hopefully I can get this out. I actually like this dress.” Even though it had only been a few dollars, it was comfy, and it was soft. I should have bought—I was suddenly shoved back a step.
Brody closed the door behind him, clicking the lock into place. His eyes roamed down the length of me, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip.
My heart started racing. Ice-cold fear gripped my spine. “Brody?” my voice cracked. “W-What’s going on?”
He didn’t meet my gaze. His lips moved like he was mumbling to himself, but no words came out.
“Hey,” I said gently. “What’s wrong?”
He took a step toward me, forcing me back.
“Brody.” I held up my hands, trying so damn hard not to spook him. He had always been kind. Gentle. A little off but his father was the mayor, so he was constantly in the spotlight. We thought it had to do with that, but this situation proved differently. Him being nice was too good to be true. “I don’t know what’s wrong but—”
“Shut up,” he whispered. “Shut up. Shut up.Shut up.” His voice rose, sending that ice-cold fear racing over me into undeniable amounts of terror.
“Please leave,” I demanded softly. “I won’t tell anyone.” And I especially wouldn’t tell Jaron.
