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She lets out an exasperated breath, defeat clouding her eyes. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Too late for that.
The party is already in full swing when we reach the house. People file in and out, carrying red Solo cups, their bodies swaying to the mellow beat. We’ve already lost Conner and Cole, but it hardly surprises me.
“Holy shit.” Hadley grabs my arm and I glance back at her, frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
“I feel so buzzed.” She laughs, her eyes cloudy and hooded. “You don’t think Conner laced the blunt?”
“You need some water.”
“Nah, I need some snaaaacks.”
Jesus. I roll my eyes, grabbing her hand and pulling her further into the house. We’re bumped and jostled as we make it inside. I’ve been here before, but not since we were all middle graders. The kitchen is a big open space with a huge island in the middle. It’s been set up as the bar for the night, chock full of liquor bottles, ice buckets, and trays of snacks.
“Eat,” I instruct Hadley as she dives for the bowl of chips. Leaving her to it, I make myself a mixer drink. The vodka is already burning through my veins, taking the edge off. But when I spot Ace through the open patio doors, Michaela hanging off him like a cheap throw, my body tingles with jealousy. He sees me, his piercing eyes locking right on mine as he takes a long pull on the beer bottle in his hand.
I want to know what he’s thinking, because if the way his hard gaze moves over my body is anything to go by, he wants me.
So why did you push me away?
Michaela spots me and sneers, making a scene of standing up and grinding herself all over Ace. He lets his hand run up her thigh and disappear underneath her ridiculously short cheer skirt. I suck in a harsh breath. She barely takes the thing off, preferring to spend her life dressed like Cheer Barbie. It brings her too much power and status.
I want to rip the thing off and tear it to shreds, but first, I want Ace’s hands off her body.
Fuck.
Why is he doing this?
Downing my drink, I pour another. I shouldn’t have come tonight. I’m playing right into his hands. For some reason, he wants me to be jealous. It’s right there in his icy gaze as he watches me while I watch Michaela writhe above him.
“She might as well piss all over him,” Hadley says over my shoulder.
“Feeling better?” I ask her, and she nods around a lazy smile.
“Much. Let’s dance.” Before I can protest, she drags me outside to where the girls are dancing. There’s a DJ set up in the corner, lights bouncing off the surface of the pool and disappearing into the night sky.
Oh, how rich kids party.
I’m about to tell Hadley this is a bad idea when a hand hooks me around the waist, dragging me against a hard chest. “I hoped you’d come,” Bexley slurs in my ear. He’s buzzed, the faint scent of scotch on his breath. Like father, like son, I think to myself.
“You’re drunk,” I reply, twisting my face to his. He grins down at me.
“Maybe, a little. Me and the guys did shots after the pep rally. It’s a team thing.”
I roll my eyes. I couldn’t care less about the team.
“Don’t be that way, Remi Bear.” The use of his childhood nickname for me has my chest constricting.
“Don’t call me that.”
His hand curves up my stomach, anchoring my body to his. “You used to love it when I called you that.”
“We were twelve,” I whisper.
“Yeah, and I thought I was going to grow up and marry you.”
