Page 3

We dance for a while, bodies moving in sync to the beat.

Eventually, a couple guys join us, and we all grind and bop to the song blaring through the speakers.

I feel my dance partner’s hands slide over my hips, drawing me closer.

I smile, the alcohol already making my head fuzzy. His hands feel good. Warm and big.

I like big hands.

Oh God, when was the last time I had sex?

“Hey, want another drink?” a deep voice sounds by my ear, and I nod dazedly, allowing him to lead me through the crowd to the kitchen again.

Under the fluorescent lights, I finally see his face. Hot. Alluring. Tattoos. Wow.

He hands me a cup, bringing his to his lips. I do the same, swallowing down the liquor, the burn now a satisfying warmth in my chest. I keep my eyes on him because he’s so hot.

“Fuck,” he says, staring at my lips.

I take another sip to hide them. “What?”

His eyes meet mine. “What’s your name?”

I smile. “You first.”

“Jack.”

I watch him closely. I like that name.

“Rhea,” I say.

Nodding, he leans across the island and tops off my drink from the open bottle in his hand. His eyes dark and hot, “Cheers, Rhea.”

I raise my cup at him in a toast. “Cheers, Jack.”

We knock back another drink and he fills our cups again. “I’ve never seen you around, is this your first time?”

“Yeah,” I drawl. “First time. Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“I will drink to that.”

I blush, taking another sip. There’s something about him. He has that edge to him.

“What is your thing then?” he asks.

“Hmm,” I hum, pretending to think as I sip my drink, savoring the taste of the alcohol as it warms me from the inside. “I guess I prefer quieter gatherings—more meaningful conversations, you know? Less… chaos.”

Jack leans in closer, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “So, you’re telling me you’re not here for the wild parties and the endless shots?” He smirks, the corner of his mouth lifting in a teasing grin.

“Exactly,” I say, my voice playful, but inside, I feel a rush of excitement. His proximity feels electric, the heat radiating off him making my cheeks flush. “I’m more of a homebody than a party girl. I’d rather take a good nap than do this.”

He chuckles, clearly entertained. “A homebody, huh? That’s not what I expected. But I think you might be more adventurous than you let on.”

“Adventurous? Me?” I laugh, rolling my eyes, but his gaze holds a challenge, a spark of intrigue that pulls me in deeper. “I mean, I am here, aren’t I? So maybe I’m feeling a little reckless tonight.”

“See?” He points at me with a knowing look.

I shrug, my heart racing as I take another swig from my cup. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” he says, his voice low and teasing, as he leans in even closer, the space between us electrified with unspoken tension.

I can feel my pulse quicken, the world around us fading into a blur as I focus solely on him, caught in this intoxicating moment where nothing else matters but the thrill of the unknown.

I notice the light bruise on his neck, the tiny cuts on his face, and the certainty in his eyes.

The space between us lessens as I lean in, my heart thumping wildly in my chest, echoing in my ear.

I can feel the warmth radiating off him, the intoxicating mix of cologne and faint sweat filling my senses.

Our breaths mingle and I glance at his full lips, slightly parted as if he’s waiting for me to make the first move and close the gap between us.

The noise of the party fades to a distant hum leaving only my heartbeat pounding in my ears and the flickering lights above us.

Just as I am about to throw caution to the wind, the sound of breaking glass cuts through the haze and I jerk back from him, my gaze darting to the other side of the kitchen.

A shirtless guy stands impossibly still in the door frame, a black mask covers his face. I can’t see his eyes, but I can feel them on me, staring, taking me in…

He takes a step into the room, that single step more menacing than his appearance. Subconsciously, I find myself backtracking, an involuntary shiver winding its way down my spine.

Who is this guy?

Jack stands up straight, finishing off his drink, staring at the guy. I can’t tell if they know each other.

The masked guy remains silent, his presence suffocating like a predator sizing us up.

His head tilts, as if he’s considering what to do with Jack.

I fucking hate Halloween. The tension in the room thickens and the air grows colder.

My heart pounds louder in my chest, the alcohol haze beginning to fade as reality sharpens around me.

Jack shifts beside me, his friendly facade fading into something sinister.

The guy in the mask finally moves, but it’s slow, deliberate, like he has all the time in the world. His hand rises, a long finger pointing directly at me and my breath freezes in my lungs. My instinct screams at me to run but my feet are rooted to the spot, frozen under the weight of his gaze.

The guy still doesn’t speak, instead his hands lowers and steps towards me again. I back up as he approaches, Jack in tow. My heart is in my mouth as I watch him approach.

Is this how I die? In a Frat party surrounded by horny douches?

Every true crime documentary I have watched comes flashing in my mind as I try my best to put some distance between me and my supposed killer, but I fail as the space diminishes, and I feel the lip of the back counter at my back.

Shit!

The slowly advancing masked stranger stops. He tilts his head again, as if confused before reaching out and grabbing the half empty bottle of vodka at the end of the island.

He turns and gives us a sidelong look before stalking to the door and disappearing back into the party outside.

“What the fuck was that?” I shout over the music, my voice shaky with leftover adrenaline.

We weave through the throng of people, the air thick with sweat and alcohol, but I can’t shake the image of that masked guy—the way he stared, the unsettling calm with which he just walked away. It felt wrong, like something out of a nightmare.

I glance at Jack, and he’s at ease. I don’t doubt for one second that he would take on that guy. I can still feel the chill of the encounter clinging to my skin.

He pulls me onto the large leather couch after grabbing another set of drinks. I try to shake off the weirdness of what happened, but the night has taken a sharp turn, and no amount of alcohol can drown the lingering tension in the back of my mind.

“Want a hit?” Jack asks, drawing me out of my thoughts. I glance at him and the smoking blunt he holds out.

Well, that might drown it.

I hesitate, eyeing the blunt in his hand. The temptation is there, gnawing at my frayed nerves. I haven’t had weed since that night at Cassidy’s house back in high school. She had scored it from some sketchy senior and she wanted to try it with me. It wasn’t an unpleasant experience though.

Maybe it could take the edge of this weird night and the unease settling in my gut. I glance around the room–people laughing and dancing, totally unaware of the strange turn this night had taken for me.

Why the hell not?

I reach out and take the blunt, bringing it to my lips and inhaling deeply. A familiar burn fills my lungs, and I hold it in for a moment before exhaling slowly, squinting as the cloud of smoke that drifts off into the chaos.

“Thanks,” I mutter, passing it back to him.

The warmth of the drug spreads through my body, but the knot of anxiety in my stomach doesn’t quite loosen, it lingers, like a shadow, waiting for the next strange thing to happen.

Jack takes another drag, before leaning back and giving me a blazed look. “That’s it. Just relax.”

We pass the blunt back and forth for a while.

By the time it burns down to a tiny nub, my head feels pleasantly light and the tension in my body starts to melt away.

The haze wraps around me like a warm blanket, dulling the sharp edges of the night.

I lean back against the couch, my limbs heavy, eyes closed, and I can’t help the lazy smile tugging at my lips.

Jack shifts beside me, his hand brushing against my bare thigh, subtle but enough to send a spark through the haze. I glance over at him, the room spinning slightly as I do. His gaze is heavy lidded, his grin slow and easy.

“Feeling better?” he asks, his voice low, almost a murmur against the thrum of the music.

I nod. “Yeah…a little.” Unease still lingers at the edge of my consciousness, dull now but not gone.

“I can make you feel even better.” A promise hangs off his words as he leans closer, his hand now resting firmly on my thigh.

“Oh, yeah?” I raise an eyebrow, intrigued besides myself.

My body feels heavy, the buzz from the weed and alcohol, melding into something heady, something that dulls my usual defenses. His touch sends a ripple of heat through me, and I can’t help but glance down at his hand, his grip just tight enough to make my pulse quicken.

Jack smirks and leans closer, his thumb brushing over my skin. “Yeah.”

I bite my lip as I consider the offer. The chaos of the party fades into a distant hum as the tension between us grows. I see his eyes flick down to my mouth and heat courses through me.

The kiss is sudden and just as forceful.

It takes my breath away–his lips crash against mine with an urgency that surprises and excites me.

His hand tightens on my thigh, pulling me closer until I’m practically on his lap.

My mind spins, but I don’t pull back. Instead, I kiss him harder matching his intensity as my hands tangle in his hair.

There’s nothing gentle about him–just pure, unbridled desire, fueled by alcohol and the haze of the night.