What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 3)

by Lauren Hawkeye

  “It’s a… maybe.” I set the dress aside, then looked at the other pile of dresses that I hadn’t outright rejected. Sadly, this navy number was probably the most conservative.

  “You don’t have time for anymore maybes.” Kaylee unzipped her makeup case and upended an enormous pile of shiny tubes and bottles onto her bed. “Two hours until you have to go. That’s just barely enough time to beautify you.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I knew what she meant, but made a face at her regardless as she sorted through more wands of mascara than one girl could use in a year. In fact, it looked like she’d been collecting it for more than that, like since the start of freshman year, when we’d first met.

  We were now sophomores. That was a lot of makeup.

  “This one.” Tossing a tube labeled Supreme Extend on top of the silver pumps, Kaylee nodded with satisfaction. “By the way, I got you a present.”

  By now occupied with lipstick, she nodded in the direction of a bag that sat on her bedside table. The pink and white stripes and familiar logo of a major lingerie chain made me raise my eyebrows.

  I bought my cotton panties there whenever they happened to be on sale. I was pretty sure that whatever was in this bag was going to be so far out of my comfort zone, that it was right in Kaylee’s.

  “Good God.” I took the tissue paper parcel from the bag, opened it and recoiled. Pulling out the scrap of electric blue lace, I hooked it off one of my fingers and shook it at Kaylee.

  “What the hell is this?” I had a pretty good idea.

  “It’s a thong. Duh.” Having pulled out the items she wanted to use, Kaylee left the rest behind in a giant metallic mountain. A large handful fell when she rose to plug in her curling iron, and I winced as they hit the floor and scattered.

  “I don’t need a thong. I’m not wearing that.” If anyone else but Kaylee had given this to me, I would have been mortified. As if was, I simply squirmed with discomfort. “Not all of us like flossing our asses, thanks very much.”

  “If you don’t wear it you’re going to have panty lines in that dress.” This was tossed over her shoulder at me as she opened up yet another bag, this time full of jewelry.

  I frowned at the scrap of fabric that was masquerading as underpants. Panty lines weren’t something that I thought about with the blue jeans that I wore every day.

  “I don’t even know if I’m going.” I gingerly laid the scrap of lace on top of the backless dress, then scowled at Kaylee.

  “You’re dating the guy. Of course you’re going.” Though she couldn’t have known the importance behind her words, I felt the weight of them.

  “I’m not dating him.” I said carefully, reaching for my hairbrush just to have something to do with my hands. “He just needed a date.”

  “Serena.” Kaylee turned and, though her tone was light, her face was serious. “You know what he looks like, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ve looked at him a time or two.” I furrowed my brow. I had no idea what she was getting at.

  “He’s gorgeous. He’s athletic. He’s nice. Right?” Kaylee crossed the room and perched on the edge of her bed. Setting her hands on her knees, she looked me in the eye.

  “Yes.” I stretched the word out. “He’s hot. We’ve established this. I’m assuming there’s a point in here somewhere.”

  “He’s hot, and he wants you.” She spoke quietly, as if to make sure that I listened. “So stop running, and do something about it.”

  I fidgeted as I stood outside the hall where the fundraiser was taking place. Well-dressed people passed me in pairs and in groups, and they all seemed to know one another.

  I was the only one alone, and in my borrowed dress and shoes I felt incredibly self-conscious.

  I had given in to Kaylee’s nagging about the thong, too, and that just added to my discomfort.

  I resisted the urge to pull my phone from my bag and check the time. It had been my own stubbornness that had me insisting on meeting Alex here rather than letting him pick me up.

  I had acquiesced to the date, but I wasn’t going to make it easy on myself.

  “Serena.” By this point I would have recognized that husky voice anywhere. I whirled, a breeze catching the edges of my skirt. There he was, looking like something straight out of a movie.

  My pulse stalled, then began to beat double time. My pink painted mouth fell open.

  He was dressed up, like I was, and… wow. Just wow.

  He was wearing the hell out of that black suit.

  “Wow.” He said the word I was thinking as he climbed the last of the stairs and took my hand. Lifting it above my head, he whistled as he twirled me around. The sound cut off abruptly when he got a glimpse of my naked back.

  Mouth dry, I licked my lips and looked back over my shoulder shyly. When his eyes met mine they told me that he wanted nothing more than to get me the hell out of this dress and back into his bed.

  “Are you trying to drive me crazy?” He pressed a finger to the base of my neck, then trailed it down my back, tracing my spine. I moved restlessly beneath the touch, my skin heating in a path that followed his hand.

  Just that simple touch made my nipples tighten, had heat surging between my legs.

  It was going to be a long night.

  “It’s Kaylee’s dress. My roommate.” My voice didn’t even sound like my own, it was so tight with longing. “Believe it or not, it was the most conservative thing she owns.”

  Alex’s finger paused at the very base of my spine, the silky skin where my back ended. His touch lingered there for a long moment before he wrapped an arm around me, squeezing once.

  “Thank heavens for Kaylee.” His voice was full of worship, and I couldn’t help but laugh, the anxiety of the last few hours easing.

  As always, he made all of the bad things go away.

  “Would you like a drink?” Alex gave our tickets to the woman who sat at a table just inside the main entryway. Though she looked to be in at least her early thirties, her eyes looked him up and down slowly, then flicked to me with just the barest hint of derision.

  I ignored it. His arm was around me, after all.

  “Um. Sure.” He nipped a flute of sparkling wine off of a tray that was held by a waiter circling the room, and presented it to me with a flourish.

  “None for you?” My mouth was still dry from his touch, and I sipped at the wine to ease the discomfort.

  He shook his head, his gaze fixed on my lips as I sipped.

  “If I drink, my liver gets preoccupied with getting the booze out of my system, instead of regulating my blood sugar.” He shrugged, as if it was no big deal to him, and I was surprised all over again that he took his diabetes in stride so well. “I can get really low blood sugar that way, can pass out from it. Since people who drink pass out too, it’s really easy to confuse the two and not get the right treatment. That’s always scared me, so I just don’t.”

  “There’s something that scares you?” I tried to make my tone teasing, but I was in awe of the way he just… I didn’t even know the word to use. He just handled all of the shit that life threw at him, bulldozing his way through it as if there was no other option.

  It blew me away.

  “On the other hand…” Alex splayed a hand flat on my back and pulled me in close to him, twining his fingers with mine around the glass flute. “I wouldn’t mind just a taste.”

  My breath stopped when he urged the glass up to my lips for another sip. Before I could swallow, he pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue sliding between my lips, tasting the wine.

  I was breathless and aroused when he pulled back, a smirk on his lips.

  “Best wine I’ve ever had.”

  I had no response for that, so I simply shook my head and looked down at my feet in their silvery shoes.

  I frowned when a pair of bright red high heels came running into my view, accompanied by long, shapely legs and a squealing voice.

  “Alex!” The voice squealed. I looked up in time to see
an insanely gorgeous girl dressed in a fire engine red excuse for a dress, fling herself into my date’s arms. To my amazement, he grinned and hugged her back, not seeming to notice when her breasts—her very large breasts—brushed his forearm.

  “Hey, Georgeanne.” They grinned at each other for a long moment while I dealt with my first feelings of jealousy.

  Who the hell was this raven haired vixen and, more importantly, why were she and Alex all over one another?

  For the first time, I understood the urge to pour a drink over another person’s head.

  Alex turned, caught my expression, and hastily began extricating himself from the brunette’s limbs.

  “Georgie, this is Serena King. My date.” The brunette turned and, seeing me with my red cheeks and scowl, grimaced.

  “Sorry, bro.” Smoothing down the dress that she’d rumpled in their embrace, she extended her hand for me to shake. “Awesome to meet you, Serena. Wow. Alex never brings anyone—”

  “Georgeanne was my foster sister when I was sixteen.” Alex glared at the other woman with—now that I knew I could see it—an expression that siblings usually reserved for one another. It was clear that he didn’t want her spilling any details about him to me. “And she still likes to play the role of big sister, even now that she’s reached the ripe old age of twenty-four.”

  Georgeanne rolled her eyes at Alex, then rose up on her tiptoes to scan the crowd. She waved enthusiastically at someone, gesturing them over, before turning back to Alex.

  “Who are you waving at?” Alex scowled as if he didn’t like what he’d seen.

  “No one. Just Tripp.” Georgeanne became very interested in the sparkly polish on her nails as Alex observed her blush, then glowered.

  “Tripp? Like, Tripp Tripp?” Alex asked.

  I was painfully aware that I’d stumbled into some kind of family dynamic. I had no idea how to play my part in it, since my own family was so very screwed up, so I stood there silent, letting the scene before me unfold.

  “What’s going on with you and Tripp?” Alex barely got the words out of his mouth before Georgeanne had laced her arm through his again. This time I was more puzzled than jealous.

  “Let’s dance, Allie!” Ignoring the scowl Alex cast her way over the nickname, Georgeanne winked at me as she pulled him onto the dance floor, clearly trying to divert him from the topic at hand. He looked like he was about to refuse, but I smiled and gestured for him to go.

  Georgeanne was yet another facet of Alex to puzzle over. No wonder he had me tied up in knots.

  “Rude of him to leave you here alone.” The voice came from directly behind me. I jolted far more than the surprise called for, wine sloshing over the edge of my glass to spill, sticky and sweet, onto my hand.

  I whirled, my heart in my throat, half expecting to see him. Instead I found a nice looking man in his early thirties, with short brown hair, twinkly blue eyes and laugh lines around his mouth.

  “I’m sorry.” He held his hands up, palms out, to show me he meant no harm. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s okay.” I resisted the urge to wipe the wine from my hand with the skirt of Kaylee’s dress, shaking the droplets off instead.

  It really wasn’t okay, though. It didn’t matter how nice he looked, I didn’t much care for strange men.

  “I’m Tripp.” He said carefully, extending a hand for me to shake. “I’m Alex’s… friend.”

  I stared at him before gingerly accepting his hand, not caring that he probably thought I was a weirdo.

  He had Sponge Bob Squarepants on his tie.

  How dangerous could he be?

  “Ah, my point in coming over here was to tell you that I taught Alex better than to leave his date alone. And also to ask you to dance while he lectures my date.” The way Tripp’s eyes lingered on Georgeanne was impossible to miss, and I found myself more confused than ever.

  Georgeanne had been Alex’s foster sister. Tripp said he was Alex’s friend, and yet the way he spoke of him sounded more like a father figure, though he couldn’t have had more than a decade on Alex. And Georgeanne and Tripp were clearly together, though Alex was unhappy enough about that to forget his manners and leave me alone, something I was certain he would never do under normal circumstances.

  My head spun from all of the connections that I didn’t understand.

  It took a moment before I realized that Tripp was watching me with eyebrows slightly raised. Belatedly, I realized that I hadn’t answered his question.

  “Oh. Um. Yes. I’ll—I’ll dance.” I’ll try is what I added in my head.

  “It’s nice to finally meet a… friend… of Alex’s.” Tripp said quietly. I tried not to stiffen when he placed his hand on my elbow to guide me to the dance floor.

  It’s just a dance, I reminded myself, even as my pulse sped up in a way entirely different from the way it did when Alex touched me. He has to touch you to dance with you.

  “Oh?” My tone was light as Tripp faced me on the dance floor, but inside I was freaking out. When he placed one hand on my shoulder, the other on my waist I had to try hard not to flinch away.

  It was right at that moment that I appreciated how truly unique the connection between Alex and I was. He might have been the first man I’d let touch me since I’d made the decision to stop giving in to every boy who asked, but that didn’t mean that it would have been this way with anyone.

  Tripp seemed nice enough, but I wanted his hands off of me. I tried to be subtle as I scanned the room for Alex, wanting nothing more than to be safe in his arms.

  “He never brings anyone to these functions. Never brings anyone anytime I see him, actually.” Tripp’s voice was curious. I could tell that he was scanning my face, trying to get a read on what exactly Alex and I were to each other.

  I couldn’t have told him, because I didn’t know myself. But I couldn’t deny that I was insanely happy to hear that I was the first girl he’d ever brought around.

  “Excuse me.” Alex. I turned my head, orienting myself to the voice as soon as I heard it. There—there he was. He’d danced Georgeanne over so that they were side by side with Tripp and I. “Wanna trade?”

  Though Tripp winked at me, it was clear that he was only too happy to have Georgeanne back in his arms. As for me… I couldn’t stop my lower lip from trembling a bit as Alex studied me, then held open his arms. I moved into them gladly, going so far as to rest my head on his chest.

  “I’m sorry.” His hands stroked over my back, but this time the gesture one of comfort, not seduction. “I was distracted by the news that Georgeanne and Tripp are dating. I should never have left you alone.”

  “It’s okay now.” I inhaled deeply, savouring his smell through his dress shirt. My own words to Kaylee from earlier that day played back through my head as I did.

  We’re not dating. It’s just a one time thing.

  Whatever I called it, I craved this connection more than I wanted my next breath.

  “You know, Tripp’s a good guy.” Alex spoke quietly. I looked up, saw the lines of worry around Alex’s eyes. He was worried about me, I realized—worried, I was sure about the reason that I would be upset by the most benign of touches by another man. “He’s looked after me for six years. Kept me out of trouble. Even hooked me up with a sweet deal on my apartment, so I didn’t have to live in the dorms.”

  Alex was trying to put me at ease. I had to tell him something. And I couldn’t lie.

  “I don’t know why I’m so comfortable with you,” I started, fisting my hands in the fabric of his suit jacket. “Because I… I don’t like it when men touch me. At all.”

  I’d never liked it, not even when I’d invited it from every boy who looked at me twice.

  “I know.” He spoke simple. And I knew that he did. He saw my flaws, my neuroses and my quirks.

  He liked me anyway.

  “Georgeanne is very beautiful.” I wasn’t jealous, not after what I’d seen of their relationship, but I wante
d to see his reaction to my comment.

  He arched his eyebrows as he looked down at me, and I knew that I hadn’t fooled him even a bit.

  “Georgeanne was my foster sister when I was sixteen. She was almost eighteen, and counting down the days until she got out.” Shutters closed over his eyes, and I clenched my fist, where I still held on to his suit jacket.

  I wanted to smooth away the furrow in his brow that this line of questioning had brought on.

  I wondered if that was how he felt about me.

  “The place we lived—it wasn’t good.” His lips pressed tightly together, and I sucked in a breath. I was sure that this story, or part of it anyways, would explain his scars.

  He didn’t mention them, and I couldn’t ask.

  “She was already there when I arrived. We hit it off right away, and she made hell a little more bearable.”

  I wasn’t used to seeing him vulnerable. I had no idea what to say, and so I kept silent.

  “She left on her eighteenth birthday, and I couldn’t blame her. I was planning to do the same. We kept in touch.” His eyes cut to me, and the coldness I saw in the pale blue depths stunned me to the core. “She’s like my sister, because we survived the same thing.”

  “You… you were in foster care until you were eighteen?” That would mean he’d only been out for four years.

  “No.” His voice was curt, though his hands on my skin were still warm. “Tripp got me out later that year.”

  Frowning, I waited, certain he was going to tell me more. What did Tripp have to do with it?

  He didn’t say anything else, didn’t share anymore of his story. I wanted to be hurt, since it felt almost as if he didn’t trust me.

  I was the last person in the world who could complain about someone keeping secrets.

  “Come on. Lighten up.” The tense moment was over, and when he slid his hands over my back again, I felt the surge of heat that always came over me when he touched me. “We’re here to have fun.”

  The music changed then from the slow, classy instrumental to a fun dance number. I tried to beg off, but Alex wouldn’t hear of it, coaxing until I agreed to dance, saying that it would be fun.