Page 35 of Just One Bite

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Olivia

I don’t want to know what I look like. A mess, probably. Dazed expression. Open. Vulnerable.

My chest is tight, but Parker helps me with my clothes before planting a kiss on my forehead, and that makes any uncertainty dissolve. We’re still close, chest to chest in the bathroom stall.

“I promise to return the favor for letting me drink.”

“But …”

He moves his lips to the tip of my ear and hushes his voice till it’s barely audible. “I want to take my time with you and make sure you’re relaxed. I can’t ensure that here.”

When he pulls back to face me, his pupils are large and his presence is all-consuming. I shrink under his gaze and lean into him ever so slightly. The thundering heartbeat in his chest thrums steadily beneath my fingertips.

“I also don’t know if I can trust you to be quiet. I’ll finish what I started. My room tonight?”

“I …” I find the full strength of my voice. “I was going to practice late tonight with Octavia.”

“Perfect. I can help you wind down after. Would you like that?”

There’s something deathly charming about Parker.

The way he smiles with those perfect canine teeth.

It’s the smile of a confident man who knows he has me exactly where he wants me.

This is usually where I run. Hide. Anything, really, to find a reason not to bind myself any further to a man who is looking at me like he has three little words dancing on his lips.

But I don’t feel the urge. I’m trying harder to hide my disappointment that we have to separate.

The remnants of my dreams dance in the foothills of my mind.

I have a dream nearly every night about him, and none of them involve clothes.

Are Parker and I going to have sex tonight? And if we do … does it mean something to him … to me?

I accept his invitation.

Parker is hesitant to leave me with Octavia, even after she assures him she’s drinking her last drink, then we’re heading to the studio. We’re one and the same dancing wise, and she never turns down an opportunity to practice when I ask.

“Your future mate is safe here. No one will touch her.” Octavia giggles.

I’ve never heard her giggle before. She’s typically an intimidating athletic machine in the studio, but here, she’s bubbly and flirty.

I even see her eyeing Barrett across the room who is not being subtle in that he notices.

There must be a story there. They are on the council together, so it makes sense they are friendly since they meet for breakfast, but the thought of it makes my stomach turn.

Parker kisses me long and hard before saying his goodbyes, then leaves the party with Ryker.

I’m proud of him. He told me about helping Ryker practice and convincing him not to quit.

I’d seen them practice a few times, and during that time, I saw the same worry lines of stress scrunched on Parker’s forehead that I see staring back at me in the dance studio mirrors.

The look of someone who has something to prove and a lot to lose.

“You smell like sex and Parker.” Octavia tugs me by the arm to the corner of the room.

There are so many people here it’s hard to see anything. She effortlessly waves away the males lingering on the bay window overlooking the lake so we can sit. The seat cushion beneath my fingertips is plush.

“I have … nothing to say about that,” I say.

“No, tell me something. Parker has been a girl magnet ever since he showed up. The masses are jealous of how quickly he picked you. You must be special to him.”

There it is again. That strange sensation loitering in my gut about Parker. From the moment we saw each other, there was a spark. I’m not a believer in love at first sight, no matter how many times I’ve read it in the novels Emma suggests. Love can never be that easy.

“He’s very attentive,” I say, only then realizing I’m thinking of Parker and the word “love” at the same time.

Her eyes widen. “Go on.”

“There’s just this feeling around him. Since I met him. It’s like knowing someone you’ve known your whole life. Have you felt that?”

She shakes her head. Her hair is up in a ballet bun and doesn’t move a centimeter. “No, but I want to. I’m surprised he hasn’t marked you yet.”

“We just agreed on that actually. I wanted to ask you if you've ever—”

“No. But a few of my friends have.” She chugs the last of what’s in her cup and twirls a finger at someone saying her name from across the room.

“Anything you can say to help me prepare?”

“You don’t have anything to worry about. When your connection is close, I’ve heard it’s euphoric.”

My cheeks warm at the thought. Who am I kidding?

The fact I’m even considering having sex with Parker is a testament that I care about him.

How can it not be with the ache I feel at his absence?

I promised myself I wouldn’t get attached to someone like this again.

Especially not now that I’m so close to achieving everything I want.

We don’t talk about Parker for long. While standing at the bay window watching the crowd, I pick her brain about her previous performances and anything ballet related I can draw out of her.

Her favorite ballet is Swan Lake , one I’ve not practiced before.

She is the first person I’ve known since ballet school that gets it—the unbridled yearning for success, performance, and perfection that’s plagued me since I was a child.

It plagues her too. She never tires of talking about ballet, and I don’t either.

After thirty minutes, I’m brimming with excitement to get my pointe shoes on and practice variations. We’ve been asked if we wanted drinks at least ten times, and none of them were water.

Octavia abruptly stops talking, and her chin juts out. “Leave her alone.”

I glance behind me to see who she’s talking to. Barrett and Aster are there towering over me.

“Why the hostility, Love Bug?” Aster lands on the couch next to me, nearly falling with his head in Barrett's lap when he sits too .

I raise a brow, silently locking eyes with Octavia and mocking her nickname.

She shrugs sheepishly.

“We could get you a stronger drink,” Barrett booms from next to me.

“I’ve had plenty. Thanks.”

Aster and Barrett share a look.

“I’m serious. Leave Olivia alone. I know that’s why you’re here. I won’t tolerate you pestering her.”

“We would never.” Aster laughs a loose, throaty laugh like he must be on his second or third drink himself.

“Let’s have a drink together,” Barrett says.

“We’re about to go to the studio,” Octavia says.

“Come on. Just one.” Aster places two fingers into his mouth and whistles.

A few seconds pass, the end table in front of us has a platter filled with glasses filled to the brim.

“I’m not drinking with you,” I say.

“What if I can offer fun?”

I scoff, turning to Octavia and motioning for the door.

“For your little sister, Etta.” Aster’s words catch my attention.

“Emma,” I correct.

“Right. I hear she’s devastated about not getting into the culinary club. I could help with that. Me and Dacre are quite close. There’s a trip to the city coming up, and while I can’t get her into the club, I can get her on the roster for that trip.”

Emma would flip. She’s been in a spiral for weeks. Plus, she deserves to go on that trip.

“What makes you think I’d trust you to keep that kind of promise?”

“That got her attention,” Barrett says, leaning back after plucking a drink from the table.

“Octavia can vouch for me. Right, Love Bug?” Aster says.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah. I could make sure they keep their promise.”

“Fine. One drink.”

I take a drink from the platter. They’re all the same. A milky blue adorned with fruit on a toothpick. It’s surprisingly good and tastes nothing like the alcohol Emma would sneak us into our old room—Dad despises alcohol.

“Should we all share a truth? Make things fun like the girls do?” Aster snickers, his eyes shifting from Octavia to me. “Come on, no dares.”

“I’m too old for old games,” I say, taking another drink.

“Then no game. We each say a truth, get to know each other.”

Aster is drunk. His cheeks are flushed, and Barrett is visually annoyed with his antics. I do have one card to play, and I’d love to see their reaction.

“Fine. I have one,” I say.

“You have to sip first.”

I take another drink, hopefully satisfying that oath.

“Barrett tried to mark me. Did you know that?”

“You what?” Octavia isn’t smiling anymore. She lowers her drink.

There’s a thick unease tainting the air and adding weight between each of us. My words stick.

“You wanted a truth.” I sip my drink. “He told me he was going to mark me against my will at the house round table.”

“You don’t understand what you’ve done.” Barrett readies himself to stand, and Aster yanks him back into the couch. He didn’t know. A shocking yet oddly satisfying revelation.

“I’m fine with my decisions. He had a lot of interesting things to say when he forced me to be alone with him in the woods. Something about bribing me to be his fiancée in exchange for—”

“Quiet.” Barrett chugs his drink before slamming it down. “No more games.”

Aster is up on his feet following Barrett’s retreating form. “Hold on. What the fuck was that? We agreed …”

His voice dissipates into the roar of the crowd.

“Are you okay?” Octavia’s mouth hasn’t closed since she heard the news. “I didn’t think he’d do something like that. If I’d have known, I … I would have done something. Barrett and Aster, they’re friends of mine, but we’re not that close.”

“It’s fine. I’m okay. Parker found me.”

“You’re so calm. I’d be freaking out.” She sips her drink, and her fingers fumble with the rim of the glass. “My mom tells me that’s why I’m not ready for a lead. I wanted to be your alternate, but she says I underperform under pressure.”

“What? Really? Is your mother quite … severe? ”

Straightforward is how I’d seen it. But I never knew she was like that with her own daughter.

“ Olivia. Please. You’ve seen her. She loves perfection. Raw talent. I’m good, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be great. Sure, I try, but … I don’t know if I can break into natural talent.”

“You can . Are you kidding? I’ve seen you dance. I’ve learned things from you already.”

She chugs the rest of her drink and smiles. “You know, you’re really nice.”

“Am I not supposed to be?”

“My mother was excited for you to come because she knew your mother. I didn’t know what to expect.”

“Let’s go practice. We can mess around and do some variations for Swan Lake .”

“That would be amazing. I’ve been so forgetful lately and haven’t been setting my alarm for practice as early as I normally do. I’ll get us some water.”

When she walks away, I quickly text Emma, informing her I am in fact the best sister and she owes me. Hopefully, my sacrifice will cheer her up.

My phone chimes, so I check.

An anonymous text reads:

Enjoying the party?

I scan the room. No one in my direct eyeline is watching.

“Octavia, said to give you this.” Someone sits a water bottle on the table beside me.

“Thanks.”

I check my phone again and type:

Who is this?

There’s no answer for a few minutes, so I continue sipping on my water.

There’s nothing I can detect on anyone’s faces nearby.

No one is paying me the slightest bit of attention.

Most of the men have shifted away from me, and there is nothing but groups of women with wide smiles and laughter near. Probably Parker’s doing.

Unknown number: You look beautiful tonight, Rabbit.

A feeling unease nestles itself in my stomach like a loose screw rattling around in a metal machine. Rabbits are easy prey. Someone has to be watching me.

I sip nervously and watch the crowd. This has to be Aster or Barrett. One of them has my number and is trying to threaten me. I don’t see them. Only Darien laughing with someone in the corner. He must have snuck in when I wasn’t paying attention. I guess rules don't apply to the council.

“Your heart is beating like a scared rabbit.” His words echo in my mind.

Warmth creeps under my skin. I check again.

Unknown number: Things are about to get really interesting for you.

I try to stand, but my body is heavy. I tug at my dress to bring air to my skin where sweat is forming. Every second that ticks by, the sickness grows.

I blink once.

Then another. It’s slow. Unsettling.

My vision blurs into a shadowy haze.

Knees shaking, I force myself onto my feet.

The water bottle falls from my hand and spills over my shoes, seeping into my socks.

I’m at the mercy of it. Watching. Unable to move.

My limbs feel like I’m underwater, and when I step, I fall into the wall, knocking into a group.

There’s talk. Laughter. Flashing of lights.

My senses are fleeting. There’s only a vague sense of what’s going on lingering in my mind, like half my brain has been turned off.

I open my mouth to tell them I need help. There’s something wrong. Terribly wrong.

A shrill ring cuts the air, and I’m being moved.

Fast. I’m outside alone before the others, far enough from the door I can clutch onto a tree.

The windows are flashing with a bright light while the crowd funnels outdoors in a panic.

Whoever moved me is gone. Or was it me and I don’t remember moving?

The air should bring coolness to my skin, but I’m burning. My skin is on fire, and my heart is pounding hard against my ribs.

I scramble for my phone.

A drumming fills my skull, and white-hot heat courses through my limbs. I stumble, dropping my phone into the dirt.

I’m almost too scared to think of the words.

Someone drugged me.

A gnawing desire curdles in my stomach and runs between my legs. My entire body throbs with a need I’ve never felt before. I grip the tree again while it washes over me from head to toe. I need it to end.

It’s blinding .

It burns.

But I need something to make the desire stop. I need so much I can’t think.

My normal processing is gone. There’s just desire and the need to satiate it. I put one foot in front of the other and kick off my shoes when they make me wobble on the path.

I know exactly where I should go.