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I’ve been hiding out on this balcony for the better part of thirty minutes, trying to escape the chaos that always seems to surround me. Sometimes I feel like I can’t fucking breathe.
I’ve got it good, I know that. I’m not in the business of complaining or playing the woe is me card. I know just about every asshole in school wishes he could be me. But being me isn’t as great as they all seem to think it is.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that it takes me several moments to register the petite, little thing that stumbles out into my sanctuary, completely unaware of my presence.
My gut instinct is to tell her to fuck off. But for some reason, I don’t say a word.
I watch her cross the balcony, gripping the railing as she looks out over the woods that surround about ninety percent of the property. Her slender shoulders slouch inward as she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.
I can’t help but let my eyes wander the length of her.
She’s rather thin, there’s no doubt about that. But there’s also something really sexy about her too, the way her long hair grazes across her lower back. The way her skinny jeans cling to her backside just right. The way her purple tank top has chunks of material missing up the sides revealing tiny slivers of perfect ivory skin. My groin tightens just looking at her.
“Enjoying the party?” I don’t know how long it takes me to find my voice, but as soon as I do, her entire body goes rigid.
She turns, her eyes wide in surprise as she finally spots me sitting in the corner
legs crossed in front of myself, a bottle of Jack hanging from my fingers.
“Oh god, you scared me.” She lays a hand on her chest.
Fuck me. She’s even prettier than I thought.
I’m certain I’ve seen her before, but I can’t pinpoint how I know her. Then again, keeping girls straight has never been one of my strong suits.
“My apologies.” I tip my chin, taking a long pull of whiskey, my eyes never leaving hers.
“I didn’t realize you were out here,” she says, a slight tremble in her voice. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” She stutters over her words. “I’ll just go.”
Before she even takes one step, my voice sounds again.
“Don’t.” My statement doesn’t just surprise me, it seems to catch her off guard as well.
“Are you sure?” I can tell every part of her is itching to take off, and this has me more than a little fucking intrigued. It’s definitely not the reaction I’m used to getting.
If she was like most of the girls who are here tonight, she’d already be in my lap just hoping to get one night with the captain of the football team so she could brag about it to all her friends.
And they say I’m the whore…
It’s not my fault girls throw themselves at me constantly. Even knowing what they know about me—my no relationship rule—they still keep coming out of the woodwork to try to be the one to change me.
Good fucking luck.
Some thing’s simply can’t be fixed.
“I’m sure,” I finally answer after a long moment of silence. “Here.” I snake my leg around the chair next to me and pull it out, gesturing for her to take a seat.
She slowly makes her way toward me, her eyes full of hesitation as she finally takes the seat next to me. She immediately knots her hands in her lap, her eyes looking anywhere but at me. I don’t think she could look any more uncomfortable if she tried. I don’t know why but this knowledge only eggs me on more.
“Drink?” I hold up the bottle of Jack, offering it to her.
“No thank you.” She shakes her head, her blue eyes finally meeting mine.
“You don’t like whiskey?” I arch a brow at her.
“I’m just not much of a drinker.” She shrugs.
“I see. So you come to a party with no intention of drinking and then end up hiding out upstairs where you think no one will find you?” I question, just trying to figure this girl out.
