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I reach for Rachel and grab her hand, tugging her toward the living room where the DJ is playing some house music. Several men and women my parents age linger near the wall. The sofas had been cleared out this morning to make room for any dancing. Like these people dance, I think while looking around at the small groups gathered in the corners, reminding me of my years in middle school when everyone was too scared to ask someone to dance.
I swipe two champagne glasses and hand one off to Rachel, smiling my best charming smile as I clink my glass against hers. She chuckles as I lean in, my lips nearly upon her ear as I murmur, “To the new year.”
My gaze lingers on her as I pull away. Desire stares back at me, her lips slightly parted. I down my champagne in one long drink before I replace it with another one. “Shall we dance?” I ask while holding out my free hand to her.
“This place is lame,” says Seth while smacking my arm down and coming between me and Rachel. He stands close to her and my hands twitch, itching to push him away. I take a deep breath, telling myself that I need to be behave. All the big wigs of Manhattan are here, and I need to make a good impression if not for my sake, then for my parents.
“Well, you didn’t have to come,” I say through clenched teeth. “And you definitely don’t have to stay.”
Seth scowls and takes a step toward me. For a moment, I think he’s going to punch me, but instead he swipes my glass from my hand and chugs my drink.
Rachel looks skyward, pinching her nose. “Please, don’t fight,” she groans. “I don’t think I can take anymore.”
“I’ll stop fighting when he stops acting like a snobby little jackass,” says Seth while waving a hand in my direction.
I take a step toward him. We’re so close. I can nearly count the eyelashes framing his gaze. I can feel his breath on my face, smelling of champagne and toothpaste. “That’s snobby little sexy jackass to you, Sethy-poo.”
Seth’s mouth gapes open and his eyes go wide with embarrassment, anger, and shock. “Why you—"
Rachel slides her arms between us, stepping into the middle and making me stumble backward. I knock into Lucas standing behind me, who gives me a warning look.
“No more fighting,” Rachel announces, annunciating each word with a stomp of her foot.
I don’t know why, but seeing her so angry really turns me on. I love a woman who takes charge, love a woman who orders me around. I shove my hands into my pocket, feeling the need to either stroke myself or reposition myself. It has to be one or the other, because the tightness of my pants is becoming a bit painful.
“But, he—” Seth starts, but stops when Rachel presses a single finger against his lips.
“If you say he started it,” Rachel whispers harshly, her green eyes flashing with rage, “I swear to God, Seth, I will drag you outside by your ear and send you back to my mother. I’m in no mood. Do you understand?”
Seth swallows and nods curtly, his eyes reminding me of a puppy dog who’s just been disciplined.
Rachel flicks her hair over her shoulder. Her back straightens as she releases a deep sigh. She forces a smile as she looks between us. “Now, let’s all have fun. It’s our last night out before packing and returning to Aurora. Do we really want to spend it arguing?”
In unison, we shake our heads.
I turn to the server holding a tray filled with champagne glasses and motion him over. “Shall we make a toast?” I ask while handing them out to Seth, Lucas, and Hunter.
“To what?” Rachel asks while holding her glass up.
“To being an asshole?” Seth mutters, earning a dark scowl from Rachel.
“Well, it is Lucas’s and Hunter’s last semester,” I say while nodding in their direction, noticing the way Lucas bristles and Hunter’s frown deepens. “I say we cheers to our last semester with them.” I raise my glass higher. “And may we make the most of these last few months altogether.”
Rachel nods, but I can’t help noticing her eyes welling up with tears. She forces a smile, her gaze turning to Hunter. “To our last semester together,” she says shakily.
We clink our glasses and down the contents in one long swig before returning them to the tray. “Now,” I say, while grabbing both Rachel’s hands and lightly tugging her to the dance floor. “Shall we—”
“Lucas Allen Brent!”
I turn to the voice coming from the entrance to the living room, finding Frank, Lucas’s father, standing in the threshold, his hands fisted and his face red. I take a step back at the anger in his eyes. Christina, Lucas’s mother, runs in behind him, grabbing her husband’s arm and trying to tug him away.
“Frank,” she whispers harshly. “This is not the time nor the place.”
Frank shakes her off and stomps into the room. I sidle close to Lucas, wondering if he’s going to need some help in dealing with his father. Why were the Brents even invited? My parents know they’ve been having familial issues. They also know what an ass Frank can be and how cold Christina is. I don’t think I even saw their names on the invite list.
“Hi, Mr. Brent,” I say cheerfully, hoping to calm the mood and distract Frank from Lucas. I twiddle my fingers while slowly stepping in front of Lucas. “Long time no see! I hope you had a lovely holiday. Sorry we couldn’t attend your—”
“What the Hell do you think you’re doing, boy?” Frank shouts.
