“And?” I send her a pointed look. “Did you like it?”
Amanda rolls her eyes, her face flushed, her eyes sparkling. She’s buzzing, I can tell. “It happened so fast, and with nothing leading up to it. Just one moment we’re sitting there all cozy in an overstuffed chair sharing a bottle of whiskey and the next, his hand is between my legs.”
“Did he at least kiss you?”
“No, but he said it was like we were kissing because his lips touched where mine touched on the whiskey bottle.” Her expression is full on dreamy.
That’s either really romantic or a total line. I’m not sure which one yet. “And then he groped you.”
“Not really a grope.” She taps her finger against her lips. “More like this sly touch. Like one minute he’s passing me the bottle and the next his hand drops to the middle of my thighs, his fingers creeping in.”
“You never answered my original question.” At Amanda’s frown I continue, “Did you like it?”
“Oh. I don’t know.” She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t know how to feel about Tuttle. He confuses me.”
Welcome to the club, I want to tell her, but I don’t. I’m confused too. Ryan’s running hot and cold, as usual. He’d seemed so happy to see me earlier in the kitchen, but then we got separated and it’s like he’s avoiding me. I don’t understand. Maybe he’s playing hard to get.
I frown. Pretty sure I should be the one who’s playing hard to get. How do I mess this stuff up every single time?
“Boys are confusing in general,” I tell her, reaching out to touch her arm. “Want something to drink?”
Amanda shakes her head. “I need to find a bathroom first.”
We end up back in the house, pushing through the throng of bodies that crowd every available space, making our way to the bathroom. We find it blissfully unoccupied and I stand watch outside the door, deciding I’m going to use it too when Amanda finishes.
“Did you come with him?”
I look to my right to see Dustin standing there, his expression unreadable, his arms crossed in front of his chest. The position makes his biceps bulge attractively and I tear my gaze away from his arms to glare at him. “Who? Oh, you mean Ryan? Why do you care?”
“You know why I care.” He drops his arms and his hands curl into fists at his sides. “This is so stupid, Livvy. Just talk to me. Let me explain.”
“So what? You can talk yourself out of it and earn my forgiveness? Nope.” I look away from him, but then he’s there. Right in front of me, in my face and not going to budge.
His voice drops and he has the nerve to touch my cheek. And God, his fingers feel good on my skin. “What happened earlier didn’t mean anything to you?”
I shake my head, my defiant gaze meeting his. “We got caught up in the moment.”
He blows out an exasperated sigh and his hand drops from my face. “It’s more than that and you know it.”
I’m about to say something else, maybe even tell him to back off, but then Ryan’s looming behind me, acting like the Big Bad Boyfriend who will throw down on anyone—just for me. “Leave her alone, asshole.”
“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?” Dustin asks, his temper showing.
“The same guy who’ll beat the shit out of you if you don’t quit harassing Livvy.” Ryan stands taller, his shoulders, his chest going wide. But no matter what, he’ll never beat Dustin in height.
I wonder if that bugs him.
“Come on, Ryan. Back off,” I start, but Ryan glares at me, that look saying more than words ever could.
Let me handle it.
Amanda chooses that particular moment to open the bathroom door. She stumbles out and comes to a stop, looking from me to Dustin to Ryan before looking at me once again. “I think I interrupted a love triangle,” she says with a hiccup.
Truer words were never spoken.
I take my opportunity and start toward the bathroom, ignoring Dustin when he calls my name. Slipping out of Ryan’s hold when he tries to grab my hand.
It’s not until I shut and lock the door behind me that I’m able to take a full, decent breath. I’m shaking. I don’t know how I’ve become so completely caught up in this love triangle, as Amanda calls it, but I hate it.
Turning on the faucet, I cup my hands and let it run for a while, finally leaning over the sink so I can splash the cool water on my flushed cheeks. I close my eyes, letting the water drip from my face, but after a while my head starts to spin so I open my eyes. Reach out for the faucet and turn the water off before looking at my reflection in the mirror.
I look like hell—smudged eye makeup. My cheeks are still flushed despite the water dripping on my skin. I grab a towel and dry my face. Take a deep breath and turn to unlock the door.
Ryan shoves his way into the bathroom the moment the door cracks open.
“You took forever. Jesus,” he mutters as he locks the door before he turns to me. The wicked smile on his face makes my blood chill. “Finally we’re alone.”
“You’ve ignored me all night,” I say, clamping my lips shut the moment the words leave me. I sound like a jealous girlfriend, which is ridiculous. There’s nothing going on between us.
Not really.
He tilts his head to the side, leaning against the door. “Aw, Livvy, don’t be like that.”
“Be like what?” I lean against the edge of the counter, waiting to hear his explanation. My head won’t stop spinning. I’ve had way too much to drink.
“Like…that. You know. Like you own me.” His smile doesn’t fade as he pushes away from the door and starts to approach. “Let’s keep this simple.”
“Keep what simple?” I ask warily.
“You and me. We’re…friends.” This sounds vaguely familiar. “We don’t need to define what’s happening between us.”
“Right now, a whole lot of nothing is happening between us.”
He grabs hold of my upper arms and lifts up. I end up sitting on the bathroom counter, and I spread my legs when he shifts to stand in between them.
“Well, I can make a lot of something happen if you want.” His voice drops about ten octaves, low and rumbly and sexy. I tilt my head back and stare at his gorgeous face, wondering how in the world I found myself in this situation.
I go from having zero prospects to two hot boys who are practically fighting over me. I feel like I’m in some sort of weird dream state. Things like this don’t happen to me. They just…
Don’t.
“I don’t want to be another hookup at Tuttle’s house,” I whisper. It’s true. I’ve heard endless stories of various hookups at one of Tuttle’s parties. If I mess around with Ryan tonight, my name will be added to a long list of girls who’ve hooked up with Tuttle’s friends on a Friday night.
“You’re not hooking up with Tuttle.” He smiles. “You’re with me.”
“I know that.” I roll my eyes and his smile fades. I think he realizes he’s going to get nowhere with me tonight.
And he’s right. He’s not. First, I’m not about to give up that easily. And second…I’m still a mess from what happened with Dustin.
Stupid Dustin.
“You’re going to make me work for it, aren’t you?” He touches the corner of my mouth with his thumb, drifts it across my bottom lip.
“Every girl should make a boy work for it,” I murmur as his hand falls away from my face.
“Most don’t.” He leans in close, his mouth just about to land on mine. “Em sure as hell didn’t.”
Okay. That is the dose of cold reality I really didn’t want to hear. I shove at his chest and he takes a faltering step back, the potential kiss ruined. Glaring at him, I hop off the counter and start for the door, but he darts in front of me, blocking me from going for the door handle.
“I shouldn’t have brought her up,” he says.
“No shit,” I mutter.
“I don’t even know what I was thinking.”
“Clearly.” I sigh and cro
ss my arms in front of my chest. “Let me out, Ryan.”
He slowly moves away from the door and I unlock it before throwing it open, striding out into the hall to run smack dab into…
Em.
Could my night get any worse?
Her gaze goes wide when she sees Ryan emerge from the bathroom just behind me. “What are you two doing together?”
I go into automatic “placate Em” mode, which is what I’ve been doing for years. “It’s not what you think—” I start.
“None of your damn business,” Ryan tells her, interrupting me. He stands just beside me and slings his arm around my shoulders.
Em wrinkles her nose. “Well, don’t you two look cozy.”
I can’t stop staring at her. She looks…crazy. She has tons of eyeliner on, yet her face is pale. Her lips are blood red and she’s wearing a black tank top and the shortest denim shorts I’ve ever seen in my life, black fishnet stockings and Doc Marten boots completing the look.
She looks like every punk goth girl come to life.
I have to remind myself I’m mad at her. That she had sex with Dustin and they kept it from me. They betrayed me, and I know my logic is messed up because essentially I did the same thing to her with Dustin, and I don’t even know how to keep any of this straight anymore.
We’re all messing around with each other.
And it’s a freaking disaster waiting to happen.
“Are you so stupid you’re really going to fall for his crap?” Em asks, waving a hand in Ryan’s direction.
I step out from under Ryan’s arm, needing the distance. I thought seeing Em tonight would only make me angry, but instead I feel bad. I feel sad too. We’re letting boys get in the way of our friendship and that’s so dumb. Even if that boy is Dustin.
Who is now standing directly behind Em, like they’re together or something. They look so much like a couple I’m filled with the need to lash out.
“Are you so stupid that you’re going to believe everything he says?” I point at Dustin and he takes a step back, looking offended and wounded all at once.
Ugh. Tired of him trying to get me to feel sorry for him. It’s bogus. The anger sweeps back over me, swift and deadly, and without a word, I turn and make my escape.
I hear Ryan call my name. Dustin does too. Even Em yells after me. But I don’t answer them, I don’t turn around—I just keep walking, pushing past people, earning a few rude remarks for my equally rude behavior. My head is still spinning, the music is so loud and I find myself outside, on the front porch, heaving my guts out in the bushes near the door.
Oh God, this is so freaking gross. I hate puking and I keep doing it this week.
“Hey.” Amanda lightly touches my arm once I’m finished, her voice laced with concern. “Are you all right?”
I turn and wipe my hand across my mouth. She takes a step back with a grimace. I’m sure I look just fantastic. “Have any gum?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
“In my car.” The look on her face is complete sympathy. “Did you drink too much?”
I nod.
“It was the vanilla vodka,” she says solemnly.
My stomach lurches at the memory and I turn back to the bush, afraid more might come back up. But it was a false alarm.
Thank God.
“Are you ready to go?” she asks.
“You want to leave?” I’m surprised. I thought the plan was to stay the night. Which was a stupid plan when I think about it, but still. “Are you drunk? Should you drive?”
“Trust me, I’m completely sober.” Amanda shakes her head, then looks around. “I need to get out of here.”
“Why?”
She grabs my hand and leads me down the front porch steps. “I’ll tell you when we get to my car.”
We hurry back to the car, both of us shivering since the temperature has dropped dramatically. There are still so many cars parked along the driveway, in the field. There are also more than a few cars occupied with couples inside doing God knows what. A few of them look to be rocking.
That could’ve been me tonight. Though most likely on a bathroom counter—or Ryan would’ve had me on my knees. I have no idea exactly what he wanted to do, but I could take a guess or two.
I sort of regret pushing him away, but dude—he brought up Em. That ruined my mood completely. And I’m not going to give Ryan a blowjob in Tuttle’s bathroom. Forget that. He probably has cameras in every room so he can capture special moments and use them against people later.
Probably not, but it’s fun to think about.
“Okay, listen,” Amanda says the second we pile into the car and she shuts her door. She turns my way, pointing at me. “You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”
“Breathe a word of what?” I ask.
She digs through the center console until she finds a pack of gum and she offers it to me. I take a piece with a murmured “thanks” and tear off the wrapper, popping the minty gum into my mouth. I nearly moan it tastes so good—and it takes away that nasty barf vanilla vodka flavor.
“What I’m about to say. I don’t want anyone else to know.” Amanda looks away, blowing out a harsh breath. “I shouldn’t even tell you. I don’t know you. Not really. Who’s to say you won’t run and tell your friend Emily and then the two of you will laugh at me every time you see me?”
“Amanda.” I reach out and touch her arm. She turns to look at me, her dark eyes wide, her expression—scared? “Em and I are pretty much through. And I swear I won’t tell a soul. I promise. You can trust me.” I really want her to trust me. I need a real friend. I think she does too.
She swallows hard and I drop my hand from her arm, waiting to hear what she’s going to say.
“Jordan kissed me,” she whispers.
I frown. “Who?”
An exasperated noise escapes her. “Jordan Tuttle!”
“Oh. You threw me by calling him Jordan.”
“He asked me to call him Jordan.” She hesitates, a dreamy look crossing her face. “He says he doesn’t like it when girls whisper Tuttle when they’re doing…whatever it is they’re doing to him.”
“He actually said that to you.”
Amanda nods.
“And you fell for it.”
She frowns and turns away, her long dark hair shielding her face. “There’s nothing to fall for. He kissed me. That’s it.”
“And he told you to call him Jordan.”
“Don’t you see?” She turns to look at me again. “No one calls him Jordan. Not even the girls who do him or give him blowjobs or hand jobs or whatever.”
I hate to break it to her, but he probably uses that line on every girl he tries to get with. I’m not going to tell her that, though. I’m not going to be responsible for Amanda’s broken heart. I still think she’s trying to mend the pieces back together after her ex cheated on her.
“Your ex wasn’t at the party, was he?” I ask.
She shakes her head. Laughs a little. I feel like my question lightened the mood, just like that. “No way. He’s not cool enough to get an invite from Tuttle ever again. Last time was just a fluke thing.”
Right, because she caught her ex with her best friend at Tuttle’s. Crap always goes down here. And seriously, I’m almost relieved to hear her call him Tuttle instead of Jordan. “So how was it?”
“How was what?”
“The kiss you shared with Tuttle.”
“Oh.” The dreamy look is back. “It was—nice.”
“Nice?” I arch a brow.
“Yeah.” Her gaze meets mine. “It was sweet.”
“Sweet?” Come on. Tuttle is not known for being sweet or romantic or nice. He’s the guy who gropes you and somehow convinces you to get naked so he can have his way with you. I’ve heard enough stories the last few years to know at least half the shit that’s said about him around school is true.
“He didn’t really try anything. He seemed almost nervous,” she admits.
“With the exceptio
n of the crotch grab,” I point out.
“That happened before I went to the bathroom. The kiss came after.”
“What happened after you left the bathroom?”
“We ran into each other and he took my hand and started leading me up the stairs. I asked where we were going and he was being all mysterious, telling me I’d find out when we got there. I started to get frustrated and tried to leave, but he wouldn’t let me.” She hesitates, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I’m glad he wouldn’t let me.”
Oh God, I’m envious of her romantic moment with Tuttle. While I would normally find it hard to believe under normal circumstances, I think I’m just drunk enough to believe in true love.
“So he took me to his bedroom and I was ready to bail, you know? I wasn’t about to become another Tuttle party conquest.”
Pretty much what I told Ryan in the bathroom.
“But he didn’t want to stay in the bedroom. He has a balcony off his room and he took me outside so I could see the view. And it was gorgeous. Then…he kissed me.” Her tone was wistful.
“That’s…sweet.” I can’t believe that word left my mouth in reference to Tuttle.
“Right?” She turns to me excitedly. “It was so crazy. Yet nice. But I have no idea if we’ll see each other again, you know? We probably won’t. He’s, uh, done this sort of thing before. I think he’s just drunk and he didn’t know what he was doing. He rarely talks to me at school.”
“He talks to no one at school except his closest friends.”
“We have three classes together this year.” She bites her lip, then releases it. “We’ve always had a class together. For, like, ever. He’s actually really smart.”
“You want to go back inside and look for him?”
“No. I don’t want to ruin the moment. He’ll probably say something awful and I’ll hate him forever.” Amanda shakes her head. “Tell me what happened with the new guy. And Dustin.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” I say, the words practically tripping over themselves I said it so fast.
“Right. Give me a break. I’m sure something happened. That’s why you had the both of them looking ready to fight over you.” She rolls her eyes. “Besides, I thought you and Dustin were together.”