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The words should scare me, but instead a jolt of electricity passes through me and my breath hitches. I can feel the heat emanating from him and the cool air from his breath on my earlobe.
“Where’s the party, angel?” The command in his voice reverberates in my head and my brain malfunctions. It’s the only reason I can give for telling him the address of the party. I don’t realize what’s happened until the soft click of my door closing brings me back to the moment.
I’m as mad as a mule chewing bumblebees.
Tonight I’m going to make them both regret crashing the party.
Walking to my wardrobe, I rummage through the box of swimsuits that sits on the floor under my clothes.
My hand digs out the stretchy material of a white one. It’s a two-piece that consists of a push up bikini top and high cut bottoms. Gleefully, I clutch the scraps of material to my chest before darting out of my closet to put it on under my dress.
I have exactly two hours until Cecila is going to pick me up. I might need Mama’s help to perfect my hair and makeup for tonight.
With my swimsuit on, I throw on an oversized navy sweater that falls to mid-thigh before I swing open my bedroom door and race downstairs. I’ll put my dress back on when I’m ready. I’d hate to get anything on it.
I find my mom in the kitchen, stirring a pot of dumplin’s. “Mama, I need your help.”
She drops the wooden spoon into the boiling water with a plop. Turning to me, her face lights up as she asks, “What is it, baby?”
“Can you do my hair and makeup?”
Switching off the stove, she walks toward me, taking a hold of my hand and dragging me back upstairs.
* * *
When I left the house, I was disappointed that I didn’t get to see Noah… I mean Jack. So I could tell him to not bother coming. But I’m determined to have a good time tonight and if Noah turns up, it might actually help me with my plan.
I know he wants me. There was no way he could hide the heat in his eyes when we were alone in my bedroom. That and the threat to anyone touching me.
I take a large swig of my vodka and lemonade, needing to cool down. Even though it’s late in the evening, it’s still hot and humid out. A pool party is the perfect way to cool down though.
Rhys Wilkins, the guy whose party it is, has the coolest parents. He said that they told him they'd rather he drink at home than in the woods or somewhere equally dangerous. The only caveat is that when you arrive, you have to hand over your keys and don’t get them back until the next day.
Cecila and I move through the house to the pool area. It’s magical. I’d never get fed up of looking at it if I lived here. There’s a grotto behind the waterfall that streams into the pool. It's veryPlayboymansion-esque.
Loungers are evenly spaced around the pool and Edison lights are strung around the garden, lighting up the space but giving it an intimate feeling. Right at the back of the garden there’s a pool house, but Rhys says it’s off limits. No doubt people will end up back there hooking up anyway.
Nobody’s in the pool just yet, but with how the night’s going, it won’t be long until someone makes the first move. The backyard has been made into a makeshift dance floor, and outdoor speakers blast out a song I don’t know the name of.
With my eyes closed, I swing my hips to the beat, getting lost in the rhythm. I probably look stupid as my hands roam over my body, but I don’t care. Once upon a time, I would have and it would have stopped me from having fun, but since starting college I’ve realized how little others' opinions of me matter. It’s done wonders for my confidence.
Feeling a gaze on me, I open my eyes and get sucker punched as a familiar set of green mixed with brown eyes stare back at me.
He came.
Neither of us looks away. At least not until Stacy Schnider wraps her arms around Noah’s neck. He doesn’t push her away.
My stomach drops at the sight as he breaks eye contact with me and smiles down at her.
No. This isn’t happening.
Kicking off my shoes in the middle of the dance floor, I move on autopilot as I unzip my dress and then pull it over my head. Shoving the wad of material at Cecila, I spin on my heel and sashay my hips to the pool. “Who’s ready for skinny dippin’?” I call over my shoulder, vaguely aware that Noah is stalking toward me.
My question is met by cheers and hollers as others remove their clothes. I untie my top, dropping it on the floor by the edge of the pool before I dive into the cool water.
Eek, I hope that looked as sexy as I was going for.
The sounds of other bodies hitting the water vibrate throughout the pool.
