“Hello?” Zoey urges. “Answers?”
Callie chuckles. “How’s that for an answer?”
She doesn’t waste a single second, gripping Will’s face with both hands and smashing their mouths together for a slow, heated kiss. He doesn’t kiss her back.
Until… he does.
She adds tongue.
He lets her.
That’s how I know I have to fucking go. Because Morgan was right. My brain can deny it, but the ache in my chest doesn’t lie.
It’s more than physical.
I like him.
I like Will.
And I wish I was the one kissing him right now.
“I’m going to go check on Morgan,” I tell Zoey and rush out of the laundry room without so much as a goodbye. By the time Luke calls my name, I’ve already rejoined the raging party and lost myself into the crowd.
I triple text Morgan, check the first-floor bathrooms to no avail, and run into Alex, who tells me he found her puking her guts out in the upstairs bathroom. Anxiety and guilt grip me. I should’ve checked on her ages ago.
I knock once. “Morgan? Are you okay? It’s me.”
“Come in,” the faintest of voices replies.
Zoey’s words crawl back into my brain as I burst into the bathroom to find Morgan half-passed-out on the toilet seat.
Amazing night, huh?
Amazing, my ass.
“I’ll be right back with some water,” I assure Morgan, heading out of the vacant bedroom I transferred her into. Lying on the king bed in a star position, she rambles on about how she’ll never drink again. Funny enough, in contrast to the many drunk girls I’ve heard say that at parties in the past, I actually believe her.
I texted Zoey that Morgan was sick and it was time to call it a night over twenty minutes ago. Took her ten to answer, but finally, she did, promising she’d come and get us once the Uber is here.
Slipping inside the bathroom where I found Morgan, I wince at my reflection in the mirror. I threw my disgusting alcohol-steeped dress back on. The stain isn’t that bad, but the smell… Safe to say this dress met its expiration date.
Twisting the tap open, I fill up a glass I swiped from the kitchen and curse under my breath when the door creaks open behind me. I set the glass down and spin on my heels, ready to tell some random, drunk guy to get lost.
Except it’s not some random guy.
It’s Will.
Red-eyed, drunk as hell, cockier-than-ever Will. Looking me up and down, he doesn’t say a word, walks in—
And slams the door.
Kassidy
“What do you want?” I say, images of Callie eating his face off still fresh in my mind. Boiling on the inside, I divert my attention to my reflection, waiting for him to take a hint and leave.
He doesn’t.
“Just here to talk to my friend. Or is that not allowed?”
I only hear one word.
Friend.
He stalks toward me, testing my resolve. Just ignore him, Kass. My body may not give him the attention he seeks, but my heart does. My heart is giving him attention all right. It’s pounding like a goddamn idiot right now.
“I’m leaving. You should go back to the party,” I mutter.
That’s his snapping point.
“Okay. Just say it.”
His outburst catches me off guard.
I spin. “Say what?”
“Whatever it is that’s got you acting so weird. You’re mad at me. Why?”
Shit.
“I’m not mad.” Even I don’t believe me.
“Cut the crap. You’ve been cold as shit to me. You can’t even look at me. Just fucking say it, Kass.”
Deep down, I know exactly what the true answer to his question is: I’m not mad at him. I’m mad at myself. No, I’m furious at myself for catching feelings for the guy who has none.
But am I going to tell him that?
Heck no.
Instead, I inhale a deep breath, opting for the response I don’t mean. It’s my only chance, the only way I’ll come out of this unscathed.
“I… I think we should stop talking.”
“What?” He frowns, his tone a mix of anger and confusion.
“You know, texting, being friends. We should stop.”
“But…” His voice softens. “Why?”
“I just think it’s for the best.” I attempt to clear the pit in my throat, only to have it expand in size.
I need to get out of this bathroom.
Now.
With my head hanging low, I round him, moving toward the door, but he stops me, snatching my wrist and jerking me to his exposed chest. His body is hard, burning to the touch. I want to push him off, run before his proximity turns my brain into goo, but I can’t move a muscle, reminiscing about the good old days where I could breathe properly.
“Where is this coming from?” He searches my eyes.
“Look, I-I really have to go.” I try to wriggle my way out of his grasp, but he tugs me back.
“Wait, please. Whatever I did, I’m… I’m sorry.”
The guilt dripping from every word feels like a stab to the gut. He really is sorry, but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t be around him anymore. I can’t be his friend.
These feelings are a ticking time bomb.
And I have no intention of being here when it goes off.
“Can we just… do this some other time?” I give the tiled floor my sole focus.
“Kass, fuck, just… Look at me,” he begs, raising the tip of my chin with his index. Our eyes lock despite my best efforts. “Talk to me.”
Why is he making this so hard?
“You seemed mad when we were playing Zoey’s dumb game, too,” he has the audacity to add.
I’m surprised you even noticed with Callie’s tongue down your throat.
“Callie’s probably wondering where you are. Why don’t you go find her?” I retrieve my wrist, adding as much space as possible to the gap between us.
“Because I don’t fucking want to,” he snarls.
Hearing him say that makes my heart way too happy.
“Then why did you invite her here?”
“Why did you invite Luke?” He gives me a taste of my own medicine. Technically, I didn’t invite
