by Dylan Heart
The way he moves is slow and sensual. Every move choreographed to the slowed-down beat, a far cry from the dance anthems of the past hour.
His palm runs against the fabric of my jeans, down toward my crotch. I don’t want to stop him, but I look to make sure no one is watching too closely. The last thing I need is to become an Internet sensation. When I’m sure nobody’s watching, I lean my neck against his shoulder and he presses his lip to my collarbone, sending endless vibrations through my bones.
I can feel him growing against the small of my back. With one of his hands still against me, the other rises under my shirt, caressing my stomach. I’m being touched in four different places, a sensual assault on my entire body.
“I want you,” he huffs into my ear. The warmth of his breath going in one end and out the other. “Right here on the dance floor, and I don’t care who is watching.” His hand rubs against me, pushing against me through the thick denim of my jeans. And I’m two seconds away from public indecency charges on my rap sheet.
I break away, glancing back at him with a knowing look. He gives chase and we weave through the crowds and find the stairway to the second level. We fumble up the steps to find a door at the top. When I give the knob a forceful pull, the door stays in place, locked.
“I’ve got this,” Blue says and pushes past me in the narrow hallway. He retrieves a card from his wallet and slides into the crack between the door and the frame, against the locking mechanism. After a few tries, his criminal skills allow him to pull the door open. I rush past him and he shuts the door behind us.
Blue hops across the counter of an unmanned bar, scavenging for free alcohol. I make my way to the edge of the second floor to a railing that overlooks the rest of the club. You can see everyone and everything from up here, including Summer, who is flirting with the bartender. And I think, This is what I gave up. The college experience. The big city life that I’ve always wanted.
Blue’s warm hands brush against my skin, right above my hips. “Jack or Jose?” he breathes against my neck.
“Neither.”
Two full bottles clatter, and then roll against the ground. “What about some Blue?”
A light chuckle. “That’s more like it.”
He pushes himself tight against me, mouthing kisses against my neck. It feels so—
“Dillon,” I say.
“Huh?” Blue asks, pulling away from me.
“Dillon’s here.”
He maneuvers through the crowd with his head held high, looking for any of us. He’s completely out of his element here in this club, in the city, dressed in his country-boy attire. The entire club goes black and the music cuts to an abrupt stop. The crowd is torn between panicked cries and loud boo’s.
Then, like serendipity, the lights flash on from directly behind us. The club is lit up as the lights cast our silhouettes onto the crowd. Dillon looks up, blinded, with one hand over his eyes. I push Blue backward, out of sight, as dance music begins to blare.
“Do you think he saw us?”
“Who cares,” he says with a smile.
“I’m going to have to take a rain check on this public act of depravity.” I pat him on his chest and head for the door.
We find Dillon at the bar, pushing two empty shot glasses toward Jayson. I approach him slowly, unsure if he saw me and Blue in the loft. I grab him at the shoulder. “Hey,” I say. He doesn’t budge to my touch. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
He holds up two fingers to Jayson, who begins pouring two shots. Then he turns to me, gripping himself against the bar. “I said I had to work. Now I’m off.” He scratches at the mold above his lip, glaring at Blue. “Something going on with the two of you?”
“We were just dancing.”
“Really?” He points to the loft. “You call that dancing? It looked like foreplay to me.”
“We’re just having fun.”
“You can stop being coy and tell me what’s going on.”
“I think we’re dating.”
He laughs drunkenly. “You’re dating a carnie. Awesome.” He turns back around and grabs the two shots, offering one up to me. I shake my head, fearful of an escalation that could cause a scene. He pushes the shot toward Blue.
“No thanks, man.”
Dillon huffs. “Don’t act like I’m your friend.” He throws back one shot and slams the glass down on the counter. It’s a welcome surprise when it doesn’t shatter. Then he shoots the other shot, this time slamming it harder against the counter. Broken glass slides against the bar.
Jayson motions toward the muscular bouncer standing in a corner nearby. I grab at Dillon’s arm, attempting to get him out of the club with dignity. He jerks back and falls against the bar.
“Dillon, come on.”
“You’re out of here,” the bouncer says sternly, grabbing Dillon forcibly by the arm. Dillon pulls himself away, and the bouncer pushes him in the back, guiding him toward the exit. Blue waits behind as I follow them out of the bar and into the alley. “Don’t come back for at least six months,” the bouncer says as he pushes Dillon into the road. “You’re banned.”
“You’ve had too much to drink,” I say softly.
He collects himself, shrugging his shoulders and straightening his clothes. “I know, right?” He laughs. “I’m just gonna go sleep in my truck. Go back inside.”
“Dillon...”
“Just go,” he says with his back facing me as he walks down the dark alley toward the parking lot.
I find Summer at the bar getting Jayson’s number. I find Tyson in the stairwell half asleep on his back. And I find Joey in the girls’ restroom having a little too much fun with the short-haired blonde girl, but Blue is nowhere to be found.
I push through the waning crowds, seemingly going in circles around the entire club infinite times until I finally spot him running down the same steps where I had found Tyson, and the same steps that lead to the loft.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?”
“Nowhere.”
I give him The Look.
“Fine. I was upstairs drinking for free.”
“Whatever. I’ve managed to round up everyone. We need to go out to Dillon’s truck, pick him up, and take him back to Summer’s dorm with us. He’s too drunk to be driving anywhere.”
“All right, that’s fine.”
The closing-time lights all flick on, illuminating the darkness, including many things that are best left in the dark. There’s visible shame on many faces, drunken wonderment on many others. But the thing that strikes me the most is the way they illuminate Blue’s eyes, pulling something into focus I thought I had seen earlier. They’re like cop sirens, white, blue, and bloodshot red.
“Are you high?”
“No.” He practically jumps. “Just really drunk.” His teeth sink into his jaw.
“Don’t lie to me,” I say gravely.
He turns away, unable to look me in the eyes.
“We need to go.” I turn and walk toward the exit, not caring if he keeps up with me or not. If he wants to do drugs, that’s on him, but I’m not about to be lied to.
Chapter Thirteen
I’m the first to wake up, and I bet Summer and Blue weren’t expecting that. They lie beside me in bed, wrapped around each other, cuddling. Sure, I could get mad but it’d be irrational. It’s obvious to me that the poor guy was so blitzed that he believed Summer to be me. It would be entertaining to make a scene though.
Eh.
On the bed across from us, the three other boys are all spooned together. They’re tight against each other, with Joey perilously close to the edge. If my phone wasn’t dead and I hadn’t forgotten my charger in Lakeside, this would be quite the blackmail opportunity.
I roll out of bed, feeling fresh and instantly awake. I step to the window and pull the shades, taking in the view of the empty football stadium, and then the cityscape beyond that. I should be waking up to this view every morning wit
h a cup of coffee in my hand.
Joey’s body thumps against the carpet as he rolls off the bed. He turns onto his side, seemingly unaffected by the fall. Summer throws herself up in bed, her hair frazzled and her makeup smudged. She looks like she’s survived a nightmare, but I’m sure it’s just a nasty hangover. She rubs her face and grumbles.
Summer and I walk along a brick path leading to a cross section in what seems to be the center of this sprawling campus. We’ve left the boys behind to sleep off the alcohol in the dorm room. They’re not in the business of waking up at nine in the morning. It amazes me how many students are out and about this early on a Sunday. I mean, where could they possibly be going?
The morning air is refreshing, but it feels different from home. Instead of a few thousand people breathing it in, there’s half a million. I think about every student we pass and try to read into them and understand their lives. What makes them tick? What’s their major? What’s their family like? They’re all strangers, but I feel like I know each and every one of them.
A starry-eyed brunette, an education major, walks hand in hand with a tall geek, a computer science major, from the previous decade. Their relationship is new, untested, and beautiful. They probably met during the unofficial freshman orientation, the one where they hid away from the noise and the parties within the safe walls of the multiple-floor library. They both come from nice families, but her parents are on the verge of a divorce. See? I know them. The only real question is, why the hell is there a four-story library?
“Earth to Charlie.” Summer waves a hand in my face.
“What?”
“Did you hear anything I just said to you?”
“Uhm...”
She rolls her eyes, then grabs me by the arm, pulling me down onto the seat of a fountain. “I saw the two of you last night on the dance floor,” she says, and I perk up. “The sparks lit up the entire room—figuratively, of course. So my question is, for the third time, how much do you like him?”
“Blue?” I ask rhetorically. “Too much for barely knowing him.”
“And where does that leave Dillon?”
My palms press against the damp rocks of the fountain. “Friends?”
“You would give up Dillon for Blue? I’m not judging, just assessing the situation.”
“We haven’t been together for months, and there’s no doubt that I still love him. I probably always will, but with Blue, I’m just falling so quickly, and I’m not really giving myself time to think things through.”
She turns to me. “Then don’t think. Just keep falling.”
“I want to,” I say, running fingers through my hair. “But I think he was on drugs last night.”
“Oh, he was definitely rolling on Molly last night,” she says without thought.
I burn a hole through her with my glare. “How would you know?”
Her smile fades. “Just a guess,” she says nervously, her palm running against the rocks.
“So he was on drugs?”
She glares at me, her eyes lining up twelve jurors. “What’s the big deal?”
The big deal?
Her shoulders rise and fall. “We’re young and stupid, and drug use doesn’t always mean drug abuse.”
I bite into my cheek. “I guess.”
“Don’t guess me. If you like him as much as you say you do, then you’re stupid if you give him up over some minor drug use.”
“Thanks,” I say. “You may not always be the most tactful, but you always steer toward being right.”
She grins. “I guess that’s why I’m in college and you’re not.”
I push her above her breast. She falters backward, almost landing in the fountain before grabbing onto the rocks to break her fall.
“Oops,” I say. “I guess I can’t control myself, probably because I’m an uneducated bitch.”
“Just remember that you’re the one who said it.”
We both stand up. “What should I do?” I ask.
“Just keep on doing what you’ve been doing.”
“We’re supposed to go to the Founders Carnival tomorrow.”
“Then do that,” she says pointedly.
“Should I at least confront him?”
“No, you should lighten up and take a hit.” Her eyes flicker and she tosses a shoulder. “It’s fun.”
“And how would you know that?”
“I took some ecstasy last week.”
Good grief. I really should have gone to college, if for no other reason than to watch after her. She obviously needs adult supervision.
When I dropped Dillon off at his pick-up, which was left in the seedy parking lot of the club, Tyson and Joey decided to ride home with him. I’m sure I was the talk of the truck.
Blue and I decided to get ice cream as we crossed county lines, back into Lakeside. I put my car in park, prepared to walk into Burger Shack for the first time since I was fired. It was the day after I turned seventeen. I knew I had to work the following morning, so I had a birthday night planned that involved sobriety. That plan was shattered thanks to a surprise party thrown by Summer at the request of Dillon, which resulted in the loss of my job due to a hangover. That’s the day I first began to hate surprises.
I pull the glass door open, hanging my head in shame. Blue walks behind me, shades covering his eyes—a different kind of shame.
“Hey,” Cassadee James screeches at me from across the counter. Automatically, a hand clasps around my ear, a defense mechanism. I bite into my cheek and raise my head, forcing a smile. “Welcome to Burger Shack, can I get you a triple stack—”
“No.”
“Okay...” she says, her hands folding against the counter.
“I just want a triple thick, blueberry, strawberry, chocolate shake.” I turn to Blue. “What do you want?”
“Whatever you just said, I’ll take that.”
I turn back to Cassadee. “Did you hear that?”
She nods. The tip of her ridiculous Burger Shack hat tilts as she fumbles for the correct keys on the register. “Your total comes to seven eighty-eight.”
I grab for my purse but, unfortunately, my arm isn’t long enough to reach my car. Blue smacks a twenty against the counter. “Keep the change,” he smiles at the temptress. I can’t see through his shades, but I can read his poker face. He has to be joking.
I pull him aside. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“That girl’s not going to last here. I give her a week before she’s unemployed again.”
“So?”
“I’m a charitable guy.” He flips his shades up and grins, his eyes reminiscent of glass.
“Well, aren’t you a prince.” I grab his shades and pull them back down.
“Order’s ready!” Cassadee yells, followed by a slap of a bell that makes my ears bleed.
I step to the counter and grab our shakes, one in each hand. I pass one off to Blue as we exit through the glass doors with no intention of coming back for another year, or until she’s fired.
“We’re going to need to set ground rules,” I say wryly.
He laughs. “Seriously?”
“You don’t know—” I come to an immediate halt that causes Blue to bump into me. I almost drop my shake when I see my dad leaning against the hood of my car. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the drive-thru getting a triple stacker when I saw your car. Thought I’d come say hi.”
“That’s unfortunate, because I’m actually in a hurry.”
He stands up straight, but I push past him and open the car door.
“You can’t spare a few minutes for your dad?”
Blue perks up and turns on one foot to size him up.
“You want to tell me who this gentleman is, at least?”
I have no current plans to do so.
“I’m Blue.” He extends his hand.
My dad hesitates before giving him a disturbingly firm shake. “I know you from somewhere, don’t I?”
“If you’re done murdering my boyfriend, can I go?” I ask dryly.
“Boyfriend?” He turns to me, freeing Blue of his grip.
Blue flexes his hand, shaking the cramps off, while mouthing to me, Ow!
My eyes roll. “This isn’t a conversation we’re going to have.” I take a seat in the car and shut the door.
“You can’t stay mad at me forever, Char-Bear.”
I glare at him. “Don’t call me that.”
He laughs nervously as he scratches the side of his head.
“Blue, get in the car.”
He does as he’s told, but moves much slower than I’d like. Damn hangover.
“I know that kid from somewhere,” my dad says quietly, then leans against my window, resting his elbows on the seal. “Since I’m a lawyer, you know what that probably means.”
“That you’re a liar?” I smile broadly, though he probably has a point, I’m not going to give him that kind of power over me—the kind where he’s right and I’m wrong.
Blue shuts the door as he scoots into his seat. My dad’s eyes focus intently on the side of Blue’s face.
“Be careful,” my dad says as I pull the car into reverse, prepared to run over his foot if I have to.
I pull the car into the supermarket parking lot, right beside Blue’s Jeep. “Do you know my dad?” I ask as the car comes to a stop.
He shakes his head. “Not that I’m aware of. Maybe I just have a familiar face.”
“You’ve got many things going for you, but a common face isn’t one of them,” I say, taking in the view of his gorgeousness and paying close attention to the edge of his jaw, where his boyish features blend into a masculine physique. “Trust me, I would know.”
“Are you saying I’m cute?”
“I’m saying there aren’t enough words.”
“I’d kiss you, but I haven’t brushed my teeth since last night.”
“Thank you for caring. You can just make it up with me tomorrow with two kisses.”