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“Oh, come on, I’m trying to get past your passive aggressive silence.”
“I’m fine,” I bump my hip to her side in reassurance. I’m not actually sure whether I am or not because that glint of satisfaction I got from standing my ground is fading and now I feel like an idiot for giving him another rise out of me. First the kiss and now this, it’s like I’m a puppet tethered to his strings. And walking away is only making those strings pull taught.
“I need a drink.” Walking through the ballroom doors, I tug Fleur to the bar. “Or four.”
Chapter 7
Cassandra
Fleur and I are both sitting in the dry bath of my en-suite at Heavers Hall. The large claw foot tub that takes up a third of the room and could fit at least three people, has been our somewhat drunken chat booth for the last hour.
My head was spinning so much when I laid in bed that it made me feel sick, and Fleur is sticking it out with me, like she always does.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” she says, as she prods my foot with her nude manicured toes and then rearranges her white underwear. “We need to obliterate that arsehole from your mind, who kisses a girl when they’ve been groping another?”
“Good luck with that, and he wasn’t exactly groping Laura. She was the one with the wandering hands.” I sigh, lolling my head onto her shoulder as she threads her fingers through mine. My heart feels sore from all the ways it’s been sliced and diced by all my thoughts of Leo and Laura.
I regret walking away now that all I can do is feel the aftermath of his kiss on my lips and my thoughts. Thinking of all the things he could be doing with her this minute.
“We need to find you someone else. What about the guy you were dancing with? I know his lines are cringy, but at least...”
“Jack doesn’t feel right, and now Leo’s kissed me and all I can think about is how right it felt to be touched by him.” Goose bumps break out on my skin as I replay the way his tongue worked with mine and his teeth sunk into my lip.
“Feeling right doesn’t make it right, babe, and he and Laura…” she turns on her side and I have no idea how she can lay like that—with her legs propped on the rim of the bath, her hip bearing her weight on the hard enamel bottom and her head crooked awkwardly—as she looks at me with…sympathy?
“I know. I saw them. You don’t have to keep bringing them up.”
“I’m looking out for you, because he’s got trouble written all over him and you’re too soft for your own good.” Wincing at her statement and the pang it reverberates through me, I sigh.
“He kissed me.” My voice is wispy thin as I repeat myself. “That’s got to mean something, right?”
“Crush aside, do you think and feel like it’s something other than a guy trying to cop a feel?”
“What if it isn’t a crush, Fleur? What if this is it and I’m not experienced enough for him?”
“If it’s not a crush, what does it matter how experienced you are? Experience is a relative thing, not everyone is into the same thing. Not everyone wants the same thing. Some people want fun and others want commitment. It’s more about wanting the same thing than having experience.”
“But it helps, right?”
“It’s not like you’re little miss innocence.” Her laugh is soft as she eyes me knowingly. “You know what a dick looks like and where it can go. The rest is all relative to your tastes.”
“Tastes,” murmuring, I can’t help but wonder what Leo’s tastes are. What he likes and whether I like it too.
Leo is such a mercurial kind of person that I can’t fathom things with him being like what I’ve seen on a screen or have heard from Fleur.
My skin heats like he’s pressed to me again and every part of me misses his warmth and feel like he’s all I’ve ever known.
“Stop overthinking shit, Cass.”
“What if I end up alone? I could end up as an old spinster with a million cats, buried in books and surrounded by paintings.”
She gives me a death look and says, “You’re in your twenties, dipshit, you’ve got time. Also, I’ll never let that happen to you. I’ll make sure you’re surrounded by the right kind of pussy if it comes to it.”
We burst out laughing, both covering our faces with our arms like we’re bashful with one another when we probably know more intimacies about each other than anyone else would care to know.
With both of us hiding behind our biceps, I tell her, “The whole time I was dancing with Jack, I kept pretending it was Leo. Then it was him touching me and his breath soaking into my skin, and now, I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s like he’s branded me with his own brand of crazy obsession.”
“Holy tart, he’s the first guy you’ve ever remotely hinted at falling for, and he is an arsehole.” She sighs in defeat as she rolls back onto her back. “Honestly, what am I going to do with you?”
