Page 7

I take in the massive number of bodies filling the large space. Dancing, drinking, holding shouting-level conversations with each other to be heard over the music.
Also, whoever lives here has to be rich as hell. I wouldn’t have guessed from the outside of the building, but it’s thoroughly decked out inside. Gargantuan white cloud couch, floor-to-ceiling windows opening up to a huge balcony and the main street and parking lot below, what must be—with a slight exaggeration on my part—a thousand-inch flatscreen TV hanging on the far wall, and one of the fanciest, most fascinating kitchens I’ve ever seen taking up residence in nearly half the open-concept floorplan. The dark green cabinets, brass hardware, black and white backsplash, and island big enough to sit an entire football team isn’t something I would’ve thought to put together myself, but… I like it.
Addy’s fingers slip through mine, and she tilts her head toward the other side of the apartment, letting me know with her nod that it’s where we’re headed. She drags me through the sea of bodies, slipping and swerving between them like a pro. Like she does this every other night.
As soon as we make our way across the party, it’s apparent shedoesdo this every other night.
Boss, Addy’s guy, is sprawled out on the sofa, a game controller in his hands. My interest is immediately piqued. I look up at the huge screen and recognize theBloodbornegraphics instantly. As soon as Boss sees Addy, though, the controller is tossed into his friend’s lap, along with his headphones. He stands up and lifts her into his arms, planting one hell of a kiss on her mouth.
I slip my hands into my back pockets, glancing down at my feet with nothing better to do as they maul each other like no one’s watching. Like there aren’t a hundred other people in this room playing spectator, too. I don’t know much about Boss, but Ican gather that he must be kind of a big deal with all the daggers being thrown at my best friend’s back right now. There are at least a dozen girls at this party wishing they were her, but I can spot a handful of guys wishing they were him, too.
But they continue kissing, oblivious to the envy surrounding them.
If the music weren’t so loud, I’m sure we’d all be able to hear the wet smacking of their mouths and really get a good show.Thank goodness for that.I smirk and pull my gaze from the floor yet again, but it immediately crashes into a sea of gray.
My first thought is that three shots are not enough to feel comfortable standing in this room right now. Not with that hard and pensive stare rooting me down. And my second, is the wonder in how my organs have managed to rearrange themselves and find a new home inside my body, because my heart is in my throat and my stomach is at my feet.
I feel… I can’t evendescribehow I feel. Like I’m relieved to see him, to know he actually exists, but I also want to sink to the floor and crawl inside a box so he can’t look at me anymore.
It isn’t fair for someone you don’t know to be able to penetrate all the layers of your skin with one look alone.
I force my gaze away, just in time for Addy to slide back down her boyfriend’s body to introduce us.
“Declan, this is Boss. Boss, meet my best-fucking-friend in the entireuniverse,Declan.”
The freckles on his pale cheeks meet his eyes as he smiles and offers me an outstretched hand. “Good to meet you. I feel like I already know you with how much Addy gushes about you, but I look forward to actually getting to know you.” His charming southern accent is thick and strong.
Warmth blooms across my cheeks. He seems… nice. Genuinely nice. And though I can’t bring myself to trust someone all that easily, it still makes me happy for her. I slidemy hand into his. “Declan. Can’t wait to get to know you, too, big guy.”
He chuckles, and maybe it’s the low thrum of the music or maybe it’s the vibrato of his voice, but I swear I can feel his laughter vibrating at my feet. Addy bites at her bottom lip and slides into his side, peeking up at him through her lashes and—wow,she is truly smitten. I’ve seen her interested in a dozen different guys at a dozen different parties, but I’ve never seen her look at one of them like this.
He bends down and kisses her neck, his auburn curls tickling her cheek, and she giggles wildly. And I’m really going to need a drink or five more to survive this third-wheel party, aren’t I?
“I’m gonna go find a drink!” I shout, interrupting their whispered conversation.
Addy maneuvers her way out of his arms. “Wait! Let me introduce you to some of Boss’s friends first.”
My heart takes off with her statement. Amazinglynotat the thought of meeting a bunch of strangers, but at the idea of finally meetinghim. For whatever reason, I still haven’t told her about last night.
His head lifts with Addy’s words, and I can feel his gaze caressing the surface of my skin, my instincts begging me to look back, but I force a smile for Addy and a calm, “Sure,” instead.
She smiles sweetly and tucks my arm into hers, sensing my unease and pulling me in close, proceeding to introduce me to four guys I’m sure I won’t remember the names of, or the faces of for that matter, and then I’m standing in front of him, my gaze locked with his.
A muscle ticks in his jaw. His stare is cold and intimidating.
Yet my nerves shift and fall away anyway. And even though I can’t take a full breath at the moment, there’s something about his stare that leaves the room around me falling quiet, too.
Not actually quiet, but fleeing from the boundaries of my senses, quiet.
I’m not sure I process anything but the inscrutable look in his eyes and the shape of his full lips as they tilt downward.
It’s cruel for someone to look both that mean and that beautiful at the same time.
I swallow down the intimidation of him as Addy bounces in place beside me, drawing his attention toward her. An amused smirk slowly curves his lips and lights up his face. Like sunlight creeping over the horizon, he goes from arctic to lukewarm just like that.
I have the sense to wonder what his problem is, but I’m not really interested in the answer. People either like you or they don’t, and it’s not our job to convince them one way or the other. I’ve learned that the hard way.
And this guy doesn’t know a single thing about me, so whatever it is, it’s clearly his problem and not mine. Andsure,I can think that all I want, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t still triggering—in some familiar, homespun kind of way I’d rather ignore.