Page 109 of Vicious Little Snakes

“Fuck you. I’m trying,” Grey yells back, laughing as hard as I am.

My hand slips just as I pull myself up, and I sink quickly back in the water, too drunk and unwilling to keep at it. Nobody ever beats us in real life, but I think tonight’s their night.

“I’ll do it alone,” Grey growls, hooking his leg over the side and crawling in. “Move, asshole, before I hit you with the oar.”

I smack the side of the boat, pushing myself away and floating on my back. “Let’s go, McCallister! Don’t let us down.”

Letting out a ceremonious howl, he digs in and begins rowing away. Our side of seniors goes wild, cheering him on as I backstroke, spitting water into the air.

Because he’s so far ahead of the other team, he decides to stand and take a drunken bow toward the applause. It’s a premature celebration because the boat tips, and he falls in.

“Fucking loser!” I yell.

Laughter fills the room, and the boys break out in song, holding up shot glasses, arms draped over various bikini-clad girls as I swim away back across the pool, coming to the edge.

I raise my torso out, straining the muscles in my arms, and turn to sit on the edge. My stomach hurts from the amount of laughing I’ve done, so I run my hand over my defined abs.

The towel girl dangles the white fabric next to my shoulder, where beads of water drip down my bicep. I drag my gaze up, feeling the heaviest sense of déjà vu. Damn, this is like that dream I had the other night that ended up with me fucking Caroline, but started with some random girl flirting with me. What’s was her name? It started with a B.

I let out a breath, remembering. “Your name isn’t Bridgette, is it?”

“No. Stacey,” she answers, walking away to give a towel to some other guys.

I look away, hiding my smile but not before catching a glimpse of Caroline by the pool doors, speaking to Kai. My eyes won’t leave her as I watch the way she smiles at whatever he’s saying.

She’s wearing a pair of shiny black leggings; they look as if she was dipped in the material, and she has on that fucking crop top I hate.

The one thing this moment and my dream have in common is that I’m on my feet, making my way to where Caroline’s standing, but when I get to her, instead of taking her into a corner and asking if she fucked herself today, I offer an “Excuse me” and walk past.

The towel around my waist begins to come loose, so I tighten it as I walk down the hall, past the alcove that draws my eyes and pulls pieces of that dream forward in my mind.

“What are you doing?”

Her voice is husky as I turn her body and push her back, slowly, into the dark alcove, hiding us away from prying eyes. My fingers knead into her waist as I lower to her ear, skimming my lips over her lobe and placing the only chaste kiss I’ll give on her neck. The words I shouldn’t speak drift out of my mouth, tinged in whiskey, and soak into her skin, making goosebumps bloom.

“You know exactly what I’m doing. I just said, ‘I want to taste you,’ Caroline. And I think we both know you want that too. No more games. You want to fuck me. I want to fuck you.”

She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t move either. I lean back, letting my eyes drift over her body, down past her nipples that are pushing against the silk of her thin-strapped tank, further down, stopping at her pussy. My tongue glides over my bottom lip involuntarily as I stare.

“I wonder if you taste like that expensive vanilla shit you bathe in. God, the idea makes me want to fucking drink you in.”

Footsteps sound behind me, drawing my eyes over my shoulder and snapping me from reliving my dream.

Caroline’s about twenty feet behind me, walking the hall, alone, biting her bottom lip. My face jerks back to the front, hyper-aware of her. Fuck, I want her. So goddamn bad, but we promised. I said I’d walk away—then I went about blurring every new line with each text I send. Fuck.

The reality is that I don’t know how to walk away from Caroline. And I don’t fucking want to anymore.

I pass a closet door, the one she first pulled me into when we were kids. Without another thought, my hand reaches for the handle, turning the knob, and I slip inside.

Fuck. This is one of those moments when you know you’re about to make all the wrong decisions, and your stomach flips because there’s still time to change course. But all I want is to crash into Caroline.

I’ve accepted that I’m probably going straight to hell over what I’m hoping will happen, but I can think of worse ways to get there. I close my eyes, trying to focus on any sound other than my breathing.What if she just keeps walking by?

The moment I think it, the light filters in, giving a glimpse at the tiny brunette shutting the door behind her.

Neither of us speaks, barely breathing as the sound of my heart beating feels so loud that we wouldn’t be able to talk anyway. Seconds tick by, and we say nothing, but I can feel everything—her anticipation, mine, and all the things the darkness allows.

I reach out slowly until my fingertips brush her skin, making her gasp. The sound makes me feel like a fucking animal because my dick pushes against my board shorts. My fingers slide inward over her arm, feeling their way to her stomach and tucking up underneath the crop top.