everything blurs into a hazy streak of color and light.
As soon as I’ve returned to my senses I hand the cup back to Josh. “God damn , what the hell is that?” I ask, using the back of my arm to wipe my mouth.
“I know, right?!” he exclaims. “We need to figure out how to make these.”
I open my mouth to disagree with him, but something makes me glance up; I’m surprised to see a familiar face hovering in the doorway. Tawny . My mind spins in reverse – didn’t I text her a while ago? I fumble around in my pocket to pull out my phone, but I don’t see any new text messages. Maybe I’m seeing things…
When I look back up Tawny’s eyes are locked on mine; her poker-faced expression isn’t giving anything away. My mind shifts gears to catch up, and I realize I still have my hand on Taylor’s leg. Meanwhile, Taylor’s eyeing me wearily, her eyes cutting between me and Paul Donahue, who’s leering at her suggestively – he must be my runner-up in terms of conquests for tonight.
Quickly I withdraw my hand and stretch my arms over my head, leaning away from Taylor. “Shit, I’m beat,” I murmur as if to no one in particular—that’s all it takes for Taylor to shove off the couch and move on to option number two. Unperturbed, I glance back up at Tawny, but she’s no longer looking at me – her attention has shifted to Mason Frye, who appears to be offering her a drink.
I brace my hands on my knees as I rise slowly from the couch, careful not to make any sudden moves. My head is still spinning a little when I take a step forward in their direction.
Tawny looks fucking amazing tonight. Her hair cascades in coppery chestnut waves around her shoulders, framing her heart shaped face. Her shorts ride low on her slender hips, and her tank top is just slightly too short, showing off a ribbon of lightly tanned skin around her waist. She’s standing up perfectly straight, taking on the regal air of a dancer, but she seems almost too rigid. Her hand is wrapped around her purse strap so tightly her knuckles are turning white.
Mason holds up a bottle of Corona, but Tawny shakes her head, granting him an apologetic close-lipped smile. She takes a step backward as if she’s going to turn around and walk away, but I break through the crowd just in time. She freezes when she sees me and bites her lip as she gazes at me questioningly, like she isn’t sure if I’ll recognize her.
Tawny – Friday, 11:45 PM
O n the drive here I replayed in my mind the memory of Kyle beaming up at me at Frank’s the other day, and the way he’d asked for my phone number. By the time I parked in the crowded street outside Jared’s house, I’d even gone as far as entertaining the notion that he might have invited me here because he actually liked me in that way. My fantasy was quickly laid to rest, however, the moment I walked in the room and saw him fondling Taylor Rich in the corner nook of the sectional. Now he’s swaggering toward me with a smug grin on his face, and I feel naïve and silly for ever even thinking Kyle might return my feelings.
Even in his clearly intoxicated state he manages to look gorgeous – his disheveled appearance just makes his handsomeness seem that much more off-the-cuff and effortless. He’s wearing a red t-shirt that showcases the muscular curve of his biceps, and his lips are twisted into a diabolical grin as he approaches me.
“You came!” he says, then startles me by throwing his arms around me and bundling me up against his chest. Mostly he smells like alcohol, but beneath that I can make out the musky fragrance of his deodorant. My head begins to spin, and I slump against him, unwilling to trust my legs to support my full weight.
Kyle pulls back but keeps his hands wrapped around my shoulders. He drops his gaze to my feet, and I watch incredulously as his eyes roam leisurely from my toes all the way back up to my face. When he
As soon as I’ve returned to my senses I hand the cup back to Josh. “God damn , what the hell is that?” I ask, using the back of my arm to wipe my mouth.
“I know, right?!” he exclaims. “We need to figure out how to make these.”
I open my mouth to disagree with him, but something makes me glance up; I’m surprised to see a familiar face hovering in the doorway. Tawny . My mind spins in reverse – didn’t I text her a while ago? I fumble around in my pocket to pull out my phone, but I don’t see any new text messages. Maybe I’m seeing things…
When I look back up Tawny’s eyes are locked on mine; her poker-faced expression isn’t giving anything away. My mind shifts gears to catch up, and I realize I still have my hand on Taylor’s leg. Meanwhile, Taylor’s eyeing me wearily, her eyes cutting between me and Paul Donahue, who’s leering at her suggestively – he must be my runner-up in terms of conquests for tonight.
Quickly I withdraw my hand and stretch my arms over my head, leaning away from Taylor. “Shit, I’m beat,” I murmur as if to no one in particular—that’s all it takes for Taylor to shove off the couch and move on to option number two. Unperturbed, I glance back up at Tawny, but she’s no longer looking at me – her attention has shifted to Mason Frye, who appears to be offering her a drink.
I brace my hands on my knees as I rise slowly from the couch, careful not to make any sudden moves. My head is still spinning a little when I take a step forward in their direction.
Tawny looks fucking amazing tonight. Her hair cascades in coppery chestnut waves around her shoulders, framing her heart shaped face. Her shorts ride low on her slender hips, and her tank top is just slightly too short, showing off a ribbon of lightly tanned skin around her waist. She’s standing up perfectly straight, taking on the regal air of a dancer, but she seems almost too rigid. Her hand is wrapped around her purse strap so tightly her knuckles are turning white.
Mason holds up a bottle of Corona, but Tawny shakes her head, granting him an apologetic close-lipped smile. She takes a step backward as if she’s going to turn around and walk away, but I break through the crowd just in time. She freezes when she sees me and bites her lip as she gazes at me questioningly, like she isn’t sure if I’ll recognize her.
Tawny – Friday, 11:45 PM
O n the drive here I replayed in my mind the memory of Kyle beaming up at me at Frank’s the other day, and the way he’d asked for my phone number. By the time I parked in the crowded street outside Jared’s house, I’d even gone as far as entertaining the notion that he might have invited me here because he actually liked me in that way. My fantasy was quickly laid to rest, however, the moment I walked in the room and saw him fondling Taylor Rich in the corner nook of the sectional. Now he’s swaggering toward me with a smug grin on his face, and I feel naïve and silly for ever even thinking Kyle might return my feelings.
Even in his clearly intoxicated state he manages to look gorgeous – his disheveled appearance just makes his handsomeness seem that much more off-the-cuff and effortless. He’s wearing a red t-shirt that showcases the muscular curve of his biceps, and his lips are twisted into a diabolical grin as he approaches me.
“You came!” he says, then startles me by throwing his arms around me and bundling me up against his chest. Mostly he smells like alcohol, but beneath that I can make out the musky fragrance of his deodorant. My head begins to spin, and I slump against him, unwilling to trust my legs to support my full weight.
Kyle pulls back but keeps his hands wrapped around my shoulders. He drops his gaze to my feet, and I watch incredulously as his eyes roam leisurely from my toes all the way back up to my face. When he
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