by Jillian Dodd
My first day here, I looked casual in the knit dress, the cowboy boots, and straight hair. For the carnival, I looked mostly sweet. The little print dress. My hair in a pouf. The leopard wedges definitely gave it an edge, but mostly I’ve looked like a good girl.
Tonight, I’m going to give them a different Keatyn. I’m wearing an Herve Leger black bandage dress. Mom wore this dress to a premiere in London last year. Kym told me I should pack it and wear it tonight for the dance. That it would look killer on me, which is good. The dress has a plunging halter neckline and a body-hugging design that leaves nothing hidden. Every curve of my body is amplified in this dress. And it’s ass-skimmingly short. But, actually, a little longer than the dance team dress I just took off. My shoes are black platform peep-toe Louboutins covered with studs. Tough girl shoes. The only jewelry I’m wearing is my locket and a large silver cuff bracelet.
I’m curling my hair into a riot of big, sexy, just-got-out-of-bed-but-my-hair-looks-ah-mazing supermodel curls.
I do my make up simply, with pretty pink lips and blush, but then add dark, smoky eyes.
I think I look pretty damn good.
At least I’m feeling kinda sexy.
Tonight I look like a bad girl.
And that’s good because somehow I have to get through twenty-nine dances with the God of all Hotties.
And I really want to knock his socks off, and maybe a few other articles of clothing as well.
Twenty-nine songs.
8:30pm
I go to the dance with Katie and Maggie, another cool girl from the dance team. Peyton ditched us to go get ready with Whitney and crew. Which is typical. I don’t care one way or another, but I am glad I don’t have to walk in here alone. We make a pretty good-looking entrance. Katie looks cute in a slinky royal blue dress that shows off her ample cleavage. Maggie is wearing a gorgeous copper-colored dress. It looks really pretty against her auburn hair and tanned skin.
I’m looking for Aiden when Dallas walks right past me, gives me a complete look over, and then walks away.
“Dallas!”
He turns around, looks confused for a second, and then says, “Holy shit, Kiki! Look at you! I didn’t even recognize you. You look freaking hot!”
“I think you owe me a dance.”
“Hell yeah, I do.”
He leads me out to the dance floor. Grinds with me. Jumps around crazily. I should have known he’d be fun to dance with. I dance a long DJ remix of songs with him.
Then another.
Finally he says, “I’m dying of thirst.”
We walk to the drink table and grab a couple bottles of water. “Hey, you wanna go to the cave later?”
“Maybe. Did you hear I owe Aiden like thirty dances?”
“I heard it was twenty-nine. One for every point he scored.”
“You hear way too much.”
“Well, I’m more worried about what I didn’t hear.”
“What’s that?”
“I didn’t hear what happened with you and Riley this morning. Other than that he brought you coffee in bed and planned on not letting you out of it.”
“Nothing happened.”
“Kiki, seriously. We talked about this. No fibbing.”
“Okay, so I tried to put the moves on him, but he turned me down. Told me he just wanted to be friends.” I try hard not to laugh.
“No way,” he says. “You’re lying.”
“Fine. I had a breakdown and cried on his shoulder.”
“Seriously. The cave tonight. We’ll chill, have some fun.”
“Maybe.”
Riley walks up behind us, grabs me around the waist, turns me toward him, and takes in my outfit. “God damn, baby, you look tough. Hot. Fuck-me-in-the-bathroom hot. Speaking of that.” He grins at me.
“I’m not going in the bathroom with you. You had your chance this morning.”
He laughs. “Yeah, right.” Then he grabs both Dallas’ and my hands and pulls us out onto the dance floor.
Riley’s dancing is naughty. Plain and simple. Seriously, I think we could get expelled for this. One hand is cupping my ass, he’s grinding into my hips, and the other hand is running down my arms, in my hair. Thank goodness the dance floor is packed by now, and we’re in the middle of the pack, surrounded by people doing their own version of the bump and grind.
“I have to pee,” I tell him after quite a few songs.
“You’re just trying to get me in the bathroom, right?”
I roll my eyes at him and walk off the dance floor. The boys stay out there. Riley has another girl grinding her butt against him almost before I step away.
I look around for Aiden.
Where is he, anyway?
As I work my way through the crowded dance floor, I walk by Jake. He’s dancing near Whitney, Peyton, and a couple other perfectly-dressed girls.
Jake yells, “Monroe.” Then he grabs my arm and pulls me against him.
“Hey, Jake. Having fun?” I ask, as I dance with him briefly.
“Oh yeah,” he says.
I lean in close to his ear and whisper, “Thanks for the dance. I’ll catch you later, okay?”
I really do have to pee.
He nods at me and goes back to dancing with the girls.
I pee, make sure my makeup looks okay, and head out the bathroom door.
As I come out of the bathroom, Dawson grabs my arm and pulls me off to the side. I’m afraid for a moment that he’s going to try and kiss me again.
“Whitney knows we kissed,” he says.
“Uh, everyone knows we kissed.”
“I’m sorry, okay. I was pretty drunk. I’m still so hung over.”
“You should come with a warning label. Do Not Kiss When Drunk. It was horrible.”
“Sorry. I . . . I’m sorry. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“So, I saw you out there grinding on my brother. What’s up with you two anyway?”
“I want in his pants, and he won’t let me, basically.” I walk away from Dawson, who still has his mouth hanging open in astonishment.
Tee hee.
I look around for the god. He’s nowhere to be found, but I do see Whitney marching toward me. She looks perfect, except for a hint of wrinkle between her perfectly arched brows. Am I in trouble because Jake grabbed me? I thought she had some hot college boyfriend?
“Just who do you think you are?”
I smile sweetly and cross my arms in front of my chest. “I’m Keatyn Monroe. But you already know that.”
I’ve played this game before. Vanessa was like the Alpha of all Queen Bees, an expert at the game. And, really, so am I. I’ve just decided to play for the other team this time. I’m already sick of Whitney, and I’ve only been here two days. No way a girl like this is going to intimidate me. I knew all Vanessa’s dark and dirty secrets. And she was one messed up girl. The way Whitney was snorting cocaine, drinking and making out with Jake and Bryce—well, my guess is Whitney’s messed up too.
“In case you’re too stupid to figure it out, I’m the Alpha here. You can’t compete with me.” She glances down at my dress. “Especially wearing last season’s dress.”
“So?”
She cocks her head at me. “So. I can afford this season’s. This is straight off the runway.”
“Lucky you.” I smile sweetly again even though I’m thinking, What a raving bitch.
“Just because you hit the lottery or whatever, don’t think you can just walk in here and be popular. That’s my job.”
The lottery? What is she even talking about?
“Money is green, no matter how you earn it,” I say.
“You’re no match for me, so don’t even try.”
I laugh and shake my head at her. “You don’t have to worry. I have no desire to be like you.”
“Oh, you will. You’re just the new girl. Fresh meat. That’s the only reason any of the guys are paying attention to you.”
I nod my head, agreeing with
her and pretend to suppress a smile. “Yeah, I am. And I’m okay with that. Oh, and by the way, this dress isn’t supposed to impress you.”
“Who is it supposed to impress then?”
“The kind of people that don’t care what season it is.”
She says condescendingly, “I don’t know where you came from, but everyone here cares what season it is.”
I see that Jake is just getting ready to walk by us. Here’s my chance to prove my point and piss her off in the process.
“I don’t think they do. Exhibit A.” I turn and tap Jake’s shoulder as he walks by. “Hey, Jake. Take a look at my dress.”
He seems to love the fact that I just gave him permission to ogle me. He looks me up and down, twice, grinning the entire time.
“So, Jake, do you know who designed this dress?”
He shakes his head and grins. “All I know, Monroe, is you look fucking hot in it.”
“Aww, thanks, Jake.”
As he walks away, I raise my eyebrows at Whitney in victory.
She whispers, “I’ll destroy you,” and stomps away.
I think back to how I told Vanessa to destroy Mandy. And pray it’s just an idle threat.
I check my phone and see that it’s almost ten. So much for my dances with Aiden. Guess he’s not gonna show up. I’ll find Dallas, get out of this dress, throw on some sweats, and head to the cave.
I’m looking around for Dallas when someone comes up from behind me and puts their hands over my eyes. I know I should be worried for my safety in this situation, but I can instantly tell by the dreamy smell that it is the God of all Hotties himself.
I turn to face him. And, once again, he takes my breath away. He’s wearing a black Prada suit that drapes perfectly over his lanky frame. Underneath is a soft black cotton tee and on his feet, gorgeous black and silver cowboy boots. Boots!
“You finished with your dances yet?” he asks.
“Well, all except the ones with you.”
“Awesome. Come with me.” He takes my hand and leads me out the door.
As in outside.
“I thought you wanted to dance with me?”
“Oh, I do.”
“Then where are we going?”
“I’ve got a little surprise for you,” he says sweetly.
I see that he’s leading me to his dorm. So, last night, I was irritated that he didn’t do anything more than kiss me. Tonight, I’m irritated because I’m pretty sure he wants to do way more than kiss.
Why else would he take me to his dorm room?
And that kinda pisses me off.
I can’t figure this guy out.
At all.
Maybe that’s his ruse. He acts like a nice guy. Like he’s not a player. Then a girl thinks, Well, yeah, I know he’s a player, but he was so sweet to me, I must be different than all those other girls, and then she falls in love with him and then he plays her.
He’s sneaky.
I try to make conversation. Safe conversation.
“You always score so many points?”
“No. Never. Those were for you. I’m trying to impress you. Remember, I asked you to be my date and you turned me down, so I had to come up with a new way to monopolize you.”
“And you’re gonna monopolize me in your dorm room?”
“Kinda.” He flashes me another blinding, powerful grin, and I just do as he says. He may also have the power of mind control. I’m not sure yet.
Outside his dorm room, he says, “Close your eyes.”
Okay, is it just me, or is this getting a little freaky? And what the hell does he have in there?
The line, Does this rag smell like chloroform to you? flits across my brain. I have a brief, panicked stalker moment and realize I do not have my purse with the pepper spray in it. I take a deep breath, decide to trust him, and tentatively close my eyes.
I hear the door open and feel his hand on the small of my back, guiding me into the room. The door makes a gentle closing sound.
“Okay, open your eyes.”
I do.
And what I see is not what I expected.
At all.
OMG!
The lights are off and on the ceiling he has strung a bunch of little white twinkle lights. He has a bottle of champagne chilling in a plastic bucket of ice and there are rose petals all over the floor.
It’s gorgeous!
I want to fall madly in love with him. Fall into bed with him. Let him give me about a million more of his soft, amazing kisses.
But then I remember Vanessa’s words and my pledge: To think with my head and not my heart.
I look again. See it all differently.
And I know what it is.
A. Big. Elaborate. Seduction. Scene.
I can’t imagine a boy going to this much trouble for anything else. No wonder he got so many girls last year. I mean, who wouldn’t fall for this shit?
Well, except for me. Because I know what he’s trying to do.
All of a sudden, I feel disappointed.
Really disappointed.
“I don’t get it. I thought you wanted to dance with me? Or did you have a different kind of dancing in mind? If you want to have sex with me, at least be honest with me and tell me that’s all you want.”
He looks around, panic on his face. “That’s not all I want. Shit. It does kinda look like that. Crap. I’m sorry. Let me start over.”
He holds out his arms. “All this is not supposed to be seduction. This is supposed to be me creating a dance. I wanted to dance all twenty-nine dances with you alone. I even have a twenty-nine song playlist on my phone if you’re ready.” He grins. “They’re kinda all slow songs. I want to dance slow with you.”
And then I feel amazing again.
Like all is right in the world.
He turns on the music, pulls me into his arms, and sways with me. By song four, we’re barely moving, and my body is molded tightly up against his.
It’s amazing to me how perfectly we seem to fit together. Like I belong to him. Like I’m a part of him.
We stare at each other, not saying a word. One of his hands runs lazily up my arm, then across my shoulder, then across my jawline, under my chin. And then, finally, across the back of my neck, pulling me toward his lips.
We kiss. Soft, slow, gentle. I seriously have never felt anything so intense. How can soft, butterflies-flitting-through-the-air kisses have so much power over me?
I was right. For sure, his powers are in his mouth. And he is so using them against me.
I’m but a mere mortal. I can’t resist.
“Want some champagne?” he murmurs.
I don’t want to stop dancing, really don’t want him to let go of me.
“I really don’t want to move from this spot,” I say dreamily.
Told you. I can’t lie to him.
He gives me another soft kiss. “You don’t have to move.”
He does though, pops the bottle, pours it into plastic drinking glasses, and hands me one.
He holds his glass up in the classic I’m-about-to-make-a-toast position, so I don’t take a drink yet.
“‘Now a soft kiss—Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.’ Cheers.”
He clinks my glass and takes a drink.
But I don’t. I’m frozen.
Like oh-shit-what-just-happened-here frozen.
“What’s wrong? Do you not like champagne?”
“You, uh, you just quoted Keats,” I stammer, shell-shocked.
“You know that? It’s a great quote, right? I read it today and it reminded me of you. Of our kisses. How they make me feel.”
I put my hand up to my face, to the bridge of my nose, run it across my eyebrow. My hand shakes.
I look down at my champagne. And drain the fricking glass. “Can I have some more, please?”
“Uh, sure.” He pours me some more.
I drain that glass too. I’ve never done champagne shooters before but, hey, there’s a f
irst time for everything, right?
“More?”
“Okay,” he says, taking away my glass. “What’s going on? Why are you downing champagne like it’s a Jaeger bomb?”
He pulls me back into his warm arms as my mind is replaying all my nights with Brooklyn. How he told me that fate would decide who I am supposed to be with. How fate would let me know.
So what the fuck is fate trying to tell me?
I know this is some kind of sign. But what sign?!
Is it a he-quoted-you-Keats-and-you’re-destined-to-be-together sign?
Or is it a you-should-be-with-the-boy-who-has-always-quoted-you-Keats sign?
Before I can think any more thoughts, Aiden starts kissing me.
Really freaking kissing me.
Still no tongue, but I don’t care. These are the kind of kisses I have been dreaming about.
Oh my. Whatever the people who make the gods did, they did this one up right. But then, of course, he’s using his mouth on me.
What else would I expect?
Other than a few more, earth-stood-still, brain-shattering, meteor-showering moments.
His hands are in my hair now.
I can’t think.
Then he stops kissing me and slides off his suit jacket.
His arms are so hotly jacked. I run my hands across his muscles and think, no, I never felt this way with Brooklyn. Or Cush, for that matter.
“Tell me the quote again,” I beg.
“‘Now a soft kiss—Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.’”
“It’s beautiful,” I say breathlessly.
“You’re beautiful. I haven’t told you that yet tonight, have I? How I didn’t even recognize you at first. I just saw this amazing body in a sinful dress and thought, Wow, who is that? Then I looked closer and realized it was you. Your hair is,” he laughs, “well, it’s looking a little messed up right now, but it looks even sexier. Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”
“Not really. So, last night. I thought, I mean, I really thought you didn’t like me.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because we were completely alone in a room and all you did was kiss me. We didn’t even make out!”