Drake’s lips are against my ear. His warm breath caresses my earlobe and I sigh completely consumed by my desire for him. “You look really pretty,” he whispers.
The word ‘thank you’ is lodged in my throat being kept down by my nerves and a wad of saliva as thick as honey. I want so much more from this moment. I need so much more from this moment. Inside I’m begging for his kiss. I crave it. I’m a Drake kiss-a-holic. Just send me to rehab already.
“I…I—.”
He’s lips are so close to mine I can almost feel the warmth from them. I can almost feel the moisture from them as they flutter gently over-top of mine. I feel like a heroin addict, on my knees in front of a drug lord, begging for one more jab from a needle.
“We’re back,” Whit sings behind me and as Drake moves away from me, I scowl as she twirls a red cup around in her hand.
I walk over to her and snatch the cup from her hand while Elliot and Drake stare at us. “Why did you do that?” I snap and chug down the contents in my cup.
“First of all,” Whit retorts. “There is no need for the attitude. Second, take it easy on the liquid refreshments, babe. I don’t think you’ll want to add a severe hangover to your vacation itinerary.”
I snatch the second cup out of her hand and chug it too. “Sorry,” I apologize. “I’m just really parched.” Whit eyes me oddly and I know she can tell I’m lying. She also gives me a look that tells me she doesn’t want to be cleaning up puddles of my vomit later.
“So, kid,” Drake interrupts. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
My lips tingle and a drizzle of beer runs down my chin. I wipe my mouth with my arm. I catch a glimpse of Whit out of the corner of my eye and she looks annoyed that I haven’t introduced her yet. “This is my best friend Whitney.”
Drake smiles and extends his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“So you’re the famous Drake?” she asks with a sultry undertone as she shakes his hand.
A crazed look crosses over my face and I give Whit the ‘death stare.’
Drake’s lips form a straight line and he lets out a controlled laugh. “Excuse me?”
Whit looks at me and laughs off her previous comment. “Uh... I just heard how you saved Robin’s life once.” I relax and slouch. The last thing I want is for Drake to know exactly how long and how often I’ve obsessed over him. “And thank God you did,” Whit goes on. “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost my best friend in the entire universe.”
Drake crooks me a devilish yet swoon-worthy grin and my stomach ties itself in knots at the sight of it. “Your friend is pretty stubborn.” He keeps his gaze on me. “She doesn’t like to read the signs on the beach.”
“That’s Robs, for ya. She marches to the beat of her own drum.”
Elliot’s lips part and he smiles softly. “That’s good to know.”
Drake gives Elliot a hard look. “Yeah,” he repeats robotically. “Good to know.” Then his gray-blue eyes break away from Elliot and focus on me. “Kid, what do you say you come with me and we’ll get you another drink?” Drake laces his fingers through mine and he takes a step forward.
Elliot grasps Drake’s elbow and eyes him warily. Concern flashes in Elliot’s matching steel-blue eyes. “Bro, do you think that’s a good idea?” Elliot gives me a worried look. “She looks like she’s already feeling the two cups she chugged.”
Elliot is right. I am totally feeling the cups I chugged. My lips are working their way from tingly to numb and my cheeks feel hot and flushed. Plus I’m in a slap-happy mood—which only happens when I’ve acquired a buzz. Drake frowns at Elliot and rolls his shoulder, knocking Elliot’s hand off his elbow. “Mind your own business, bro.”
Then Drake and I disappear into the crowd.
In the kitchen, Drake hands me another cup full of beer and I can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’m standing in a room across from the guy I’ve been crushing on for what feels like forever. And from the way he’s staring back at me, it knocks the wind out of my lungs when I think he might feel the same way.
There are so many questions I want to ask him. There are so many things about him that I want to know. And now that I’ve had a few drinks, it seems like I’ve finally worked up the courage to find out some of those things and ask some of those questions.
The loud incessant chatter in the kitchen of the frat house swallows us. A few of the guys from the frat whom Drake introduced me to a little while ago are doing keg stands. A ruckus of cheers and jeers sound off and I have to lean close to Drake’s ear to ask him, “So what happened between you and Sydney?”
He puffs out his bottom lip, shrugs, and leans close to my hair. “She’s studying abroad for college and we both decided that it would be better if we took a break while she was away.”
There’s a moment where I’m staring at him intensely and wondering if he’s telling me the truth. Guys, especially guys who look like Drake seem to have a way getting girls like me to believe whatever they want us to. I narrow my eyes, staring so intensely, and so close to his face that I can make out every portion on his flawless face. And he’s staring back at me with such a sincere look I know there is no way he can be lying.
“Do you miss her?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Truth?” I nod. “Yes and no. I loved Sydney, don’t get me wrong, but it’s nice to break away from that, you know? It’s nice to be free to do what I want for a change without having to check in with my other half.”
I laugh and take a swig from my cup. “I can see the appeal.”
He eyes flash to the floor then back up at me. “Yeah. And it’s nice to be able to act on impulses that I’ve had for a while.”
I furrow my brows. “What do you mean?”
His lips are so close to my ear that I can practically feel them brushing against the lower lobe. “You know what I mean.”
And before I can react he’s kissing me. Kissing me fast. Kissing me hard. He’s breathing heavy and his breath tastes sweet like honey and whipped cream. Then there’s an explosion in my mouth. A bomb has just gone off inside of me and I have a sulfur aftertaste resting on my taste buds. His tongue gently flicks mine and I melt inside. He cups my face and I can feel his hands all over me. I want his hands all over me.
I drop my cup and my beer spills all over the floor. I’m sliding in it and I don’t care. I’m surrounded by a ton of people who are watching my PDA and I don’t care. Every inhibition I’ve ever had slips away from me like filth slopping from the soles of boots. The way I see it; Drake is the male version of Aphrodite and I want him to poison me with his love.
~9~
You take my breath away, only to make my heart beat faster.
~Author Unknown~
Drake leads me through the mass of bodies and we come to a halt in front of Sadie. She’s blocking the back door and cramping up the narrow hall by being there. She smiles at Drake seductively. “Hi Drake.”
At the moment, the only thing I can think about is gouging out her eyes with my fingernails. But Drake gives her an uneasy smile, says, “Hey,” and brushes past her without even giving her a second glance. And a harmonic chorus sounds off inside of me so loud and so beautiful I’m confident that they could be the second coming of Beethoven himself.
Seconds later, we’re out the back door walking onto the almond sand, away from all the party guests. My brain is fuzzy, from Drake’s kiss, from the beer I’d consumed. Fuzzy. Fuzzy. Fuzzy.
I giggle because I’m happy and drunk and Drake who’s slightly ahead of me peaks over his shoulder. “What’s so funny?” he asks, amused.
To be honest, I don’t know. But I don’t tell him that. I don’t want to seem like an idiot. “Nothing.” And I giggle again.
Drake stops walking, faces me, and gives me a quirky grin. “Something is funny,” he assumes. “Is my hair sticking up or something?”
His golden hair glows and shimmers in the moonlight like the metallic paint on a shiny, new ca
r. “No.”
We’re far away from the party. Or at least I am. I feel like I’m perched on a cloud close to heaven and I don’t want to come down. I never want to come down.
Feeling playful I pull away from him and make a mad dash for the ocean. Drake is behind me, but I drown out the sound of him calling my name. Not that I want to, really. I could listen to him say my name over and over again. He’s a record skipping. Robin. Robin. Robin. It’s nice to hear him say my actual name for a change.
At first I hated the nickname he’d given me years ago. Now I anticipated hearing ‘kid’ leave his lips. Just like I anticipated feeling his lips caress mine.
“Robin!” he shouts. “What are you doing?”
I stop at the edge of the water as the tide rolls in and tickles the tips of my toes. I inhale the bitter smell of salt and not even the icy water can freeze the fire smoldering inside of me. I don’t know what I’m doing. But I like how ‘not knowing’ feels.
My life always feels like it’s so planned out. I’m a good girl. I went to school, obeyed my parents, and always followed the rules. I got good grades and got into a good college. For once, it feels amazing to get away from that. Good isn’t always fun. Most of the time it’s predictable and boring.
Right now I want to get in trouble. I want to break rules. I want to be spontaneous. I want to be bad.
A deceitful look spreads across my face and Drake stares at me unsure of what to do. I can tell by the way he’s looking at me that he thinks I’m a loose cannonball. I’m going to shoot out of my barrel at any second and cause a wave of mass destruction.
Reaching down, I scoop up a heaping pile of sand. I flash him a wicked smirk and chuck the heaping-over pile of sand at him. The wet, dirty sand hits him smack dab in the middle of his perfectly pressed white button-up, leaving a dirty residue and falls to the ground in a clump. He drops his head and stares at his shirt.
Me, I’m trying so hard to keep my laughter in my throat that I snort. Then I let out a forced grunt.
Drake lifts his head slowly and slits his eyes, glaring at me seriously. “You think that’s funny?” I think it’s hysterical. But I can’t tell him that because I’ve reached the point where I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe. Drake shakes his head and crouches down. “Well, we’ll see how funny you think it is now.” In a split second he scoops up a handful of sand and I take off running. Still laughing. Laughing so hard I have to clutch my side as my ribs start aching.
Drake catches up to me and I shriek as a glob of wet sand smacks into my bare shoulder. Then he tackles me. And we both fall to the ground, rolling around in the sand.
He’s on top of me and I stare up at him. His long black lashes curl up in a feminine way and almost touch his eyebrows. I push his ringlets that hang down into his eyes away from his face. He looks even sexier with his bangs pushed back. A flash of moonlight gleams in his blue eyes. Then his mouth crashes into mine like the jet from Lost when it crash landed into the ocean.
I wish that I could freeze time—no—I wish that I was dreaming so that I could have this same dream over and over again for the rest of my life.
Our kisses escalate to the point where they are coming faster. More deep. More passionate. He kisses me how I imagined a man from a romance novel would kiss his lover and I know this won’t be enough. I want him to kiss me like this every single day. Until the day I’m six feet under lying in my wooden box, lying in my final resting place.
I sit up panting and his hands are in my hair. A second later he rips his shirt off and I brush my fingers against his abs like they’re a road map to the heavens. I need him to kiss me again. If he doesn’t I think I’ll go crazy. But he does. This time more soft. More gentle. More sensual.
I fall backwards into the sand and arch my back as he moves down my neck, tracing the curve with his kisses, and moves on to my collar bone. I love him. I love him I love him. Even though I know that isn’t necessarily true, those are the words I keep hearing in my head.
I can feel my want for him, writhing in my veins. I can feel it prickle in my bones. I can feel the ache for him in place of my heart. Pounding. Thumping. Hammering. I might as well be a construction site; that’s how much I’ve let my feelings for Drake build up.
He hooks his arm underneath my waist and presses his body against mine as water trickles over our limbs. His lips brush against my ear and his hot breath whirls through me like steam from a tea kettle. “You’re beautiful, kid,” he whispers seductively.
“No one has ever told me that,” I tell him.
“What?” Drake holds himself up slightly and examines my face.
“No one has ever told me that I’m beautiful.”
Except him. Well, kind of. Once.
He gives me an odd look, like I might be lying to him, but I’m not. I’m plain. I’m simple. I’m quiet. I was in the marching band in high school and in chess club. I was a social outcast and kind of nerdy if anything. Boys didn’t look at me how I wanted them to or try to date me. Sure I’d had a couple of boyfriends, but both were geeks like me.
“Well, you are beautiful to me.” He leans down and kisses me softly. “Robin, my beautiful singing bird.”
~10~
Those who never make mistakes lose a great many chances to learn from them.
~Author Unknown~
“I could kill you!” Whit yells into my ear.
I blink several times and my eyes fly open. “What…What are you talking about?” I shove the comforter off my legs and sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My head is spinning and I feel like a surgeon has removed my brain and put it in the washer on the spin-cycle.
Whit hops out of bed and puts her hands on her hips. “Really? Do you not remember anything that happened last night?”
One memory of last night pops into my head. My moment on the beach with Drake. I exhale as a fleeting feeling whirls through my stomach. I feel weightless. Like there’s no gravity in the room and if I don’t use my pillow as an anchor I’ll float up to the ceiling. “Just kissing Drake on the beach.”
Whit flops down next to me and throws her hands up in the air. “Well I’m glad you had a great time.” There’s sarcasm in her voice.
“Did something happen?” I don’t remember much of anything aside from my moment on the beach.
“Don’t even get me started,” Whit huffs. “First you go all AWOL on me. Then that Sadie spills a beer all over me. And that’s not even where the real fun begins.”
I give her a pleading look. “Well? Tell me what happened then.”
Whit shakes her head. “I don’t need to tell you. I can show you.”
The last part of her comment scares me. “What do you mean you can show me?” She bends down and rummages through her suitcase for a minute and pulls out her laptop. My head starts pounding and nervousness bounces off the walls of my stomach. “Wait a second. Do I even want to see what you’re about to show me?”
Whit doesn’t look at me. “No,” she says as she frantically taps the keys on the keyboard. “But you need to.” Seconds later she turns the laptop toward me as streaming video on YouTube starts playing of a wasted girl dancing around on a table in her underwear.
At first I laugh. Then I focus on the girl’s hot pink polka dot underwear. “No,” I gasp as dread and embarrassment seeps into my blood stream. “No.” Then I lift up the sundress I fell asleep in. My pink polka dot underwear practically poke my eyes out. “That’s me!”
Whit points at the screen as I watch on. “And that’s me trying to get you to come down.” The video continues and I watch in horror as Whit hops on the table yanking on my arm and I stumble, backhanding her across the face accidentally, knocking her off the table. Elliot is in the background and I notice he catches Whitney when she falls.
But where is Drake?
I continue watching my drunken uncoordinated movements and I feel like I’m going to barf. Then I slide in some clear liquid on the table, probably beer, and fall o
ff the table myself.
I slam the laptop closed. “Oh my god!” I’m mortified and embarrassed and one hundred percent I can never show my face around here ever again. “I’m an idiot.”
Whit takes the laptop and puts it back in her bag. “Give her an inch and she takes a mile.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I scoff.
“It means you had way too much to drink.”
“You should talk. I’ve seen you do worse.” Once, at a party in high school Whit took all of her clothes off, wrapped herself in a blanket and passed out in the host’s front yard. Needless to say, she woke up the following morning next to a puddle of her vomit.
“And not only that, but you stick me with a hottie who clearly wants you,” she mentions, changing the subject.
I bolt upright. “Wait…what?”
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