Page 54

A goddamn valet.
We saunter up to the red brick mansion, and I look up at the three-story behemoth and suddenly feel incredibly small. I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves. I don’t want to be here.
“Come on! We have some drinking to do!” Liz pulls me through the front door, and my mouth drops.
This place is fucking insane. We walk through the front door into a foyer where the stair wraps up around above us. As I amble through, I look up and behind me to see other partygoers hanging out on the balcony above the front door. I then face forward and look above to find another balcony higher up looking down on the foyer.
We walk through a set of openings into an open area that most people are standing around socializing with each other. There’s a fireplace off to the right and no furniture to be seen. Three sets of French doors lead out to some sort of backyard area overlooking the ocean. The walls are painted a soft cool grey with very detailed crown molding at the top.
Whoever’s house this is, they are loaded. Like Scrooge McDuck loaded. Maybe they have a money pit they swim in?
Liz drags me to the corner of the room where a bar’s set up, and we each grab a cranberry and vodka. I wasn’t going to drink tonight, especially with what happened last time I did.
But when in Rome …
Plus, I think I’ll need a little liquid courage to get through the night. We both look around at the insanity before us, and I realize how out of place I am.
Liz is dressed in a shimmery silver bodycon dress. I’m honestly not sure how in the hell she got into it. It currently looks like it was painted on. She’s wearing silver stilettos that make my feet hurt watching her try to walk in them. But as I look around, every girl in this place is dressed almost the same.
Then there’s me.
I picked a much more conservative dress, it seems. The top is solid black. There are three-quarter sleeves on it, with a v-neck. The middle of the dress is tied together like a corset that connects the top and bottom of the dress, which is asymmetrical with a deep red and black plaid. So I wouldn’t feel the need to cut my feet off at the end of the night, I put on a pair of black fishnets and my Docs.
So basically, I don’t belong here.
“Loosen up, Phoenix. Try to have fun tonight.” Liz tips back her drink. Did she just pound it down? Well, I guess I’ll be the one driving home. As if she’s reading my mind, “Don’t worry. I’ll call us an Uber.”
“Or I can just not drink and drive us home,” I suggest.
“No, drink.” She places her palm on the bottom of my cup, bringing it up to my mouth. I take a small sip and smile.
As I stand there, I’m expecting the insults to fly. For someone to call me a bitch, or trailer park trash. Throw condoms at me, tell me I’m an STD, but no one seems to even care that I’m there. While my walls are still firmly in place, I do start to relax a little. And by a little, I mean I unclench my jaw.
We move into the kitchen to find a game of beer pong being played. We stand around and watch the teams play each other. The little bit of my drink has started to loosen me up. I start to actually have a good time. Relaxing enough to drink a little more knowing no one is being malicious towards me.
“So, whose party is this?” I lean over and ask Liz as I knock back the rest of the drink.
“Oh, well that’s the weird thing. So, this is the Emerson mansion. It’s actually Daxon’s birthday too. Birthday twins!” she shouts, jumping up and down, and I pray that dress holds her in. I mean, she is already close to a nip slip, and any sudden movement could cause a wardrobe malfunction.
But when realization sets in that it’s Dax’s birthday, I nearly drop my cup, thanking my lucky stars it was empty. I shake my head as Liz turns back to the game. I immediately start to take off back the way we came, but I get shoulder checked and pushed back as I try to escape to the foyer. When I tilt my head up, my stomach sinks. Shit, it’s a wall of kings.
“Well, well, well. Look at who joined your birthday party, Dax. The birthday girl herself.” Mason smiles like a cat that ate the canary.
“I just needed some fresh air and then was going to probably leave. If you’ll excuse me.” I try to penetrate the wall of muscle, but they just won’t budge. I try again by going around them, but Mason grabs me and wraps his arm around my shoulder. My body heats up from his touch, and I swear my vagina’s on its own fucking get-laid mission. She’s all too happy Mason has his arm around me.
Backstabbing vag bitch.
“Actually, come celebrate with us,” he says into my ear. His voice sends shivers down my spine, right to my goddamn core. Wow, she’s feeling special right about now.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This isn’t good. Mason leads us down a hallway into a dark room. Holding on to me tightly so I don’t bolt, he turns and flips on the lights.
We are inside a massive game room and theater. There are about twelve reclining chairs in front of a giant screen, with massive black leather recliners. Scattered throughout is a pool table and some arcade games. There’s a small bar area in the corner and more French doors that lead out to what must be a giant ass patio looking out over the ocean.
“Look, sorry, didn’t know this was your place.” I look at Dixon. “Happy birthday. Okay, now that that’s settled, I’m out.” I go to head back towards the door but am immediately stopped.
“No, Red. Stay a little while. Let us help you celebrate your birthday, too,” Mason says as he wraps his arms around my waist and nibbles on my ear. I’m doing some Jedi fucking bullshit to will my body not to react and my face not to give away that my body is absolutely turned on by Mason.
There’s a sofa off against the wall to the side of the theater screen, and Mason leads me there. “No, I’m good. Look, it’s very obvious that we don’t like each other, so let’s not keep tormenting ourselves with each other’s presence.”