Someone bumped into her. The female laugh was loud and high pitched, unnatural for someone under their own influence. Sophie’s eyes flew open. She had to blink to bring focus to the commotion. The brunette standing in front of her, staggering, barely supported by the two other girls keeping her up, released another laugh. Her friends, not nearly as drunk as she was, moved her further down the hall. Sophie watched them stumble away before searching the sea of faces for signs of her own friends.
Lauren and Jessie were nowhere to be seen. A jolt of panic had Sophie pushing her way through the throng of partygoers. The narrow corridor was even more confined by the strategically placed end tables, each one beautifully decorated with crystal bowls filled with stones, family pictures and vases. Smiling portraits of Roy squished between a handsome dark haired man and a beautiful dark skinned woman, paintings of fruit bowls and sunset beaches hung from the walls, leading a perfect path into a kitchen straight out of a catalogue. Slabs of polished marble gleamed beneath a litter of plastic cups, bowls of chips, pizza boxes and couples making out. Every light over the counters blazed, splotching halos of yellow that glinted off the metal rim of the keg. A rowdy crowd of hulking figures surrounded the giver of alcohol the way vultures swarmed a dead carcass. They hooted and hollered, shoving each other and making crude gestures. One boy, who looked like he should have been in college, manned the hose, spraying yellow liquid into plastic cups. The cups were passed around, but not usually until one or more mouths had first taken a sip. Sophie somehow wound up with a cup pressed into her hand. She set it down on the counter and quickly walked away, scanning the crowd for Jessie.
There was a quick flash of green in the distance, resembling Lauren’s dress and Sophie took off after it, keeping her eyes trained on it. So completely caught up in the fear of losing sight of her friends, Sophie didn’t see the figure until she walked straight into it, and unlike Brian, this one didn’t stumble. It was like walking headlong into a solid brick wall. The sheer strength of it nearly sent her staggering backwards like a rubber ball. Hands caught her just above the elbows, pulling her forward and back onto her feet.
“I’m sorry!” she shouted, turning to face the reason for the bruise she would no doubt have in the morning. Her eyes bulged. Her heart stopped momentarily and all the spit in her mouth dried to dust. “Spencer!”
He stood before her looking as pale and gorgeous as ever in his dark jeans, black t-shirt and tattoos. His gray eyes devoured her in a slow, scorching climb like he was photographing every inch of her and didn’t want to miss a single detail. The path of his scrutiny burned wherever they touched her skin. Goose bumps clustered the lengths of her arms. Her cheeks flushed at the hungry appreciation behind his appraisal. The dress was suddenly not long enough to conceal the miles of flesh exposed. He took a step forward, invading her sanity with his powerful scent of raw male and spices. The heat of his body lashed against hers. Her neck was forced back so she could peer into his face. Her lips parted, unknowingly begging him to do something she knew was a bad idea. A muscle danced along his jaw as he seemingly gritted his teeth. The overhead lights caught the silver skull studded into the leather band clasped around his wrist, as he raised his arm and scooped wisps of hair off his brow.
Damn it he looked good. But then he opened his mouth and it all flittered away like dying embers in the night breeze.
“I see you made it without using me as your pawn,” he said, his voice carrying seamlessly over the din.
Sophie didn’t know whether to apologize for putting him on the spot the night before, or kick him for being such an ass. She opted to surge past him before she apologized and then kicked him for good measure. It was a big enough party. They could easily stay out of the other’s way.
Her temper had other ideas. Her heels teetered as she scuttled to a halt and whipped around, pointer finger finding and spearing his chest before she could even realize she’d lifted an arm. “I’m getting real tired of your crap, Rowth.”
His fingers curled around her hand, stopping her abuse in a manner that could almost be considered gentle. “You mean my inability to jump at the chance to be your alibi to see another guy? Yeah, consider me an ass.”
She twisted herself free of him. “What do you care why I wanted to come here anyway? It wouldn’t have been any skin off your nose to just say yes. It wasn’t like I was asking for a kidney or for you to even go with me, because heaven forbid I dared take such liberties—”
“Dare take such liberties? What, did your brain take a nosedive into the eighteen hundreds?”
She ignored the hot flush creeping into her face. “Well, I wouldn’t have asked you. I know how you would have hated that.”
Amusement fled from his eyes. “You have no idea what I would have hated.”
It took a moment to wrap her head around that. “What—?”
Spencer peered down at her with something akin to frustration. “You shouldn’t be here anyway.”
“And why is that?” she asked sharply.
He seemed to hesitate a moment. His gaze flickered past her to something in the distance before returning to her once more. “Because you’re going to get yourself into trouble.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Right, because you’re suddenly all about protecting me, what with your new found hero complex, but just because you saved me from getting crushed by a car, doesn’t mean I—”
“I do not have a hero complex!”
“Then tell me why I shouldn’t be here, not that it’s any of your business what I do, or where I go, or who I see.”
He looked past her again, his eyes narrowing into thin slits. She turned her head to see what had caught his attention and saw nothing but bobbing and swaying bodies everywhere.
“He doesn’t want you!” His gaze returned to hers, chips of glacial ice. “He’s not …” he trailed off with a deep growl.
She had no idea what he was talking about and never got the chance to ask when he cast her a long, furious scowl, spun on his heels and disappeared through the crowd. Sophie watched him until she could no longer see him and only then did she move, shouldering and elbowing her way through the mess in the opposite direction.
Somehow, she wound up on the back patio, which was as crowded and noisy as the inside. Her heels scraped and clacked as she made her way around the pool overflowing with people despite the January weather. She shuddered. Wearing sandals seemed like a bad enough idea. Swimming was so not happening. She found her way back inside, grateful to be out of the nippy weather and mist.
“Sophie!” It took her a moment to find the origin of the voice. She had to do several slow circles before she spotted the figure pushing his way towards her.
“Brian!” A smile split across her face.
He reached her, his hair fluttered perfectly over his forehead. “Hey! You made it.”
Sophie nodded. “Yeah, but I lost my friends.”
His brows creased as he turned his attention over the roaring and jumping crowd. “I can help you look for them if you like, or you can come join us for a little while. I’m sure they’ll find us.”
She knew her friends would understand if she just let them find her. They knew she was there to see Brian and would no doubt track her down that way, but she couldn’t just leave them alone in that place. What if something happened? They were supposed to stay together. “I should look for them,” she said, going against everything her head was begging.
Brian didn’t pull away, didn’t frown or get angry. He smiled and gave an understanding nod. “Okay. Let me tell my friends and I’ll help you.”
Grateful, she offered him a small grin and watched as he jogged back to the cluster of kids lounging around a solid oak coffee table on sofas made of black leather. The TV was on, flickering rapidly from station to station as though the possessor of the remote couldn’t make up their mind. Sophie didn’t see the point considering they couldn’t possibly hear anything over the noise, but she wisely kept the thought to
herself.
Brian said something to his group, pointing in her direction, and then making a circular motion towards the ceiling. Several heads turned in her direction and Sophie didn’t know whether to wave or just stand there like an idiot. Idiot won. She stood like a statue, wishing Brian would hurry up.
A minute later, he returned to her side. “Sorry,” he said. “Where did you want to start?”
Sophie shook her head. “I have no idea.”
He seemed to consider this a moment. His green eyes swept over the room. “Well, we can start down here and then make our way upstairs.”
Eager to start anywhere, she nodded.
Brian Fisher parted the crowd like Moses over the Red Sea. Even people with their backs to him shifted aside as if gravity repelled their proximity to him. Following along behind him was like following the tail of a rock star. All around them, people called out. They patted him on the shoulder, smacked him on the back. Girls giggled and pressed their scantily clad bodies into his in the midst of an embrace. It wasn’t his party but people shouted how much fun they were having and thanked him for the invite. Sophie felt ridiculously out of place in his shadow.
“Is it always like this?” she asked as they broke into the hallway.
Brian tossed her a glance over his shoulder. “Only when I’m in public.”
Sophie dodged a puddle of vomit. “I would hate that,” she confessed, shouting to be heard.
“Which part of it?” he asked, turning left at the base of the stairs and stepping through an opening into a rec room, equipped with a pool table, a plasma TV mounted on the wall and leather bean bag chairs.
The crack of pool balls crashed through the air as Brian took her across the room to the second doorway. Sophie silently wondered just how big this place was and if they would need a map to get back.
“I don’t think they’d have come this way,” she said, grateful that the deeper they went into the house, the more muffled the music became until she was just able to hear her own thoughts.
“Well, no harm in looking,” he countered.
She couldn’t think of anything to say to argue. She followed him through the winding corridor circling back around to the kitchen. Most of the rooms along the way opened into bedrooms, closets, bathrooms and, in one case, a gym. Just how many rooms did a family of three need?
“Fisher!” The ch orus of his name rose up into the air in a cacophony of elation. The vultures guarding the keg lurched up and seemed to pour over Brian, engulfing him into their midst the way the ocean surged over sand and dragged things back into its fold. One minute Brian was standing at her side, the next he was gone, swallowed by the throng of people. Sophie stood paralyzed, not sure if she should run for help or not.
One of the boys she recognized from school swayed as he turned and shuffled towards her. The image struck her so much of a zombie horror movie, she cringed.
“I know you!” the boy slurred, stabbing a sausage-sized finger in Sophie’s face, nearly catching her in the eye. “You’re—” She never found out who he thought she was when he clutched his middle and doubled over. It was the hand around her elbow, dragging her out of the way that rescued her shoes from being decorated by clumps of unidentifiable grossness.
“Thank you!” she breathed, staggering sideways into her rescuer when her heel caught on a sweater lying discarded on the floor. Warm, gentle hands steadied her and pulled her closer into a solid body, seemingly shielding her. “I …” she trailed off when she glanced up into his face.
Spencer stared down at her, his gray eyes pools of melted silver. The firm grip of his toned fingers imprinted five strips of heat into her upper arm. She felt every point sear her to the bone. The overwhelming fragrance of leather, tobacco, rain and motor oil wafted off him, surrounding her in velvet ropes of delirium. She shivered. His fingers tightened. Why could she never keep her head around him? It seemed like no matter how furious she was with him, how much she wanted to toss him under a bus, the moment he was close, the second he touched her, looked at her, she was finished. Her bones were putty and her mind drenched in thoughts of him. It was pathetic, but she couldn’t stop.
“Sophie!” Brian shoved and elbowed his way through the horde containing him. His hair was disheveled, standing in disarray around his flushed and grinning face. There were crease marks on his shirt like someone had been fisting the material. He staggered forward, narrowly tripping on someone’s foot. He swiped a hand over his chin, wiping away the trickle of liquid dribbling from his lips to stain the front of his shirt. “I’m sorry! The guys get crazy sometimes.”
Sophie didn’t know what to say. The weight of Spencer’s hold on her felt immeasurable. Part of her wanted to shake it off. The other part wanted to turn into it. Spencer made the decision for her. He let her go and took a step back.
Some of Brian’s smile faded, turning a soft shade of curious. “Oh, hey!” He extended his hand towards Spencer. “You’re the new kid, right? Sorry. I’m crap with names.”
Spencer stared at the hand as if it he were being offered a poisonous snake. Brian dropped his arm, not looking offended, but surprised. Sophie could imagine why. Everyone loved Brian. He was a sweet guy. He was fun and outgoing and captain of most of the sporting events at Westwood. He was River Port’s golden boy. Everyone expected him to do great things once he finished high school. Spencer’s clear dislike was uncommon.
“This is Spencer,” Sophie said, breaking the awkward silence. “Spencer, this is Brian.”
Spencer made no comment, but he turned his gaze towards Sophie. He traced the contour of her face before turning to Brian again. He took the other guy in, everything from his messy brown hair to his expensive Nikes. The left corner of his mouth twisted upwards, oozing mock antipathy.
“Fitting,” he bit out, lips barely moving to form the single word. Then, he was stalking away, disappearing into the crowd.
“Did I do something?” Brian asked, turning away from Spencer’s retreating back to focus on Sophie.
She could only shrug, hating the irrational sting in her chest.
“Do you know him?”
With a sigh, she shrugged again. “He’s my neighbor, but I don’t really know him.”
Brian nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “So … he’s not like an ex or something?” He said the words slowly, carefully, like he was testing the waters.
Sophie blinked. “Me and Spencer?” She laughed. “I’m pretty sure he’d rather kiss a cobra on the mouth. The guy hates me.”
Little lines creased over the bridge of his nose as he scrunched his face into what looked like doubt. “I don’t think that’s it.”
She began to ask him what he meant when the crowd ahead of her parted and Lauren stumbled out, towing a very limp Jessie.
“Sophie! Thank God!” Jessie was shoved forward, nearly colliding into Sophie.
Frantic, Sophie grabbed Jessie’s shoulders, trying to steady her while attempting to peer into her eyes. “Jess?”
“Some guy gave her a cup of something and she drank it before I could stop her!”
Brian stepped up next to Sophie and gently took Jessie from her. He peered into her face closely. He sniffed her.
“Pretty!” Jessie giggled, stroking Brian’s face.
Brian laughed, passing her back to Sophie. “She’s just had too much beer.”
Lauren blinked. “Too much? The girl had one sip!” The outrage in her tone made Sophie bite back a relieved laugh.
“Lightweight,” Lauren grumbled, folding her arms.
“Come on. We can put her in one of the bedrooms to sleep it off.”
“Oh no you ain’t!” Lauren thrust out a hip and planted a fist on it. “I’ve seen what happens to passed out girls at parties!”
Brian didn’t seem offended. He offered Lauren a small smile. “We’ll use Roy’s bedroom. It locks. I’ll ask him for the key—”
“And all spare keys,” Lauren interjected. “And I’ll hold on to them.”
/> Brian’s mouth twitched. “Yes, ma’am!”
Nimbly, he scooped Jessie up into his arms and ushered them back through the throng of people towards the sitting area. The group there glanced up when he stalked around the U-shaped leather sofa with an unconscious girl in his arms. He said something and Roy rose out of his seat, handing a pretty blonde beside him his drink as he dug into his pockets. Seconds later, he was passing Brian a set of keys. Brian shook his head and used the hand he had tucked beneath Jessie’s knees to point at Lauren.
Like an Amazon queen, Lauren marched over and took them from Roy. Sophie saw her mouth moving, but the music swallowed the words. Roy shook his head, pointing to the keys. Lauren narrowed her eyes, said something with a sharp stab of her finger into Roy’s chest, then spun on her heels and marched towards the doorway. Brian met Roy’s bewildered gaze and grinned before following. Sophie took the tail.
The wall leading up to the second floor was plastered with photos in black and white frames. Each one was neatly positioned to form a larger square. There were six in all to the top. The landing followed the photo theme, but in singles. These frames were larger and held school pictures of Roy. The narrow hall with its peach colored carpet paved a path to eight doors, each one closed. At the far end was an arched window, beneath it was a table holding a vase of tulips.
“What are all these rooms?” Sophie asked, grateful not to have to yell anymore, but the floor beneath her feet vibrated still.
“Guestrooms mostly,” Brian said, shifting Jessie’s weight a little higher. “Roy’s parent’s offices. Bathrooms. Bedrooms.”
“Dayum,” Lauren murmured.
They reached one of the last rooms and Lauren hurriedly opened the door into solid darkness. Brian carted Jessie through without waiting for the light to be turned on. Lauren fumbled along the wall until she located the switch. With a flick, the room was enveloped in a soft, gold light that illuminated every boy’s fantasy room.
Games of Fire Page 8