Nate stands opposite me, talking to Jase and Saint. “Numb” from Rihanna starts playing in the background. His eyes come to mine, a smirk evident on his face.
I fucking hate him and his sexy stupid body, and his cocky grin. Even with blood all over him, he’s by far the hottest guy I have ever seen in my entire life. He brings the bottle to his lips, his eyes still on mine, They’re not frantic or angry anymore though, they’re weak and heavy. These are the exact eyes that got me into bed with him in the first place. And Madison and Tate too—probably.
Goddammit. Tipping his head back, he downs the rest of the whiskey, liquid dripping down the side of his face and falling onto his chest over the two large angel wings. Those are my favorite, I decide. I don’t know why he got them, but they’re my favorite. He’s still talking with the guys, but his eyes never stray far from me.
Madison and Tate both drop down beside me, and when Nate sees Madison, he licks his lip but moves straight for me. “Take me home?” he slurs, heavily intoxicated.
I give him a bored expression. “Sure.” Seriously over his shit.
His fingers wrap around mine and he pulls me up, his other arm hooking around my waist. He buries his head into the crook of my neck. “Mmm, you smell good.”
I shove him.
His tongue glides across my collarbone. “Fuck, Tillie,” he groans, exhaling against my flesh. “Why do you fuck me up?”
My body freezes as I try to calm my racing and erratic heart. He doesn’t mean anything he says, he’s just drunk. “You’re being an idiot,” I answer, shaking my head.
“Am I?” He snarls as his lips brush over my skin. I have to mentally talk myself out of his games as his hips slowly press into me, planting me to the spot.
“You ready?” I ask, taking a step backward. When I look at him, he’s smirking down at me, his lips glistening from the drink.
His eyes go over my shoulder, landing on someone behind me. He grabs my hand. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Once we’re out by the car, I have to shove him into the passenger seat, tucking his arm inside. I shut the door with a little more force than what is necessary.
“Tillie!” Madison comes running out of the house just as I’m about to open the door.
“Thanks for calling me.” I roll my eyes. “Not.”
Madison shuffles uncomfortably. “Listen, I really nee—”
“—Madison!” Bishop snaps at her from the front door.
Madison stills, and then looks at me pleadingly.
“What is it?” I probe, crossing my arms in front of myself.
She chews on her lips nervously and then plasters a fake smile on her face. “Nothing. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She turns, shoulder barging past Bishop, who is still watching me.
“Bye, Tillz.”
“Bye, B.” A flash of something falling over his face before it’s gone.
My door swings open. “Hurry up!”
I roll my eyes again, getting into the car. I crank the heat up and start driving us out of Brantley’s driveway.
“You mad?” Nate asks lazily, and I can hear the humor in his tone. Nate’s drunk voice is even more sexy than his normal voice.
“No, I’m not. Why were you fighting?”
I see his head turn away from me out of the corner of my eye. “Because I fucking hate what your eyes do to me.” He turns the radio on. I am Tillie Stuprum and I am confused as fuck with this guy’s mood swings. But slightly turned on.
Pulling into our driveway, we both get out and Nate starts doing the Connor McGregor walk as we head toward the pool house, laughing loudly when I shove him.
“You’re an idiot.”
He turns around in a flash, his face and chest pressing against mine. I stop, my flushed cheeks cloaked by the dark night. “That’s the second time you’ve called me an idiot, Tillie.”
I shove past him, annoyed with his up and down. “Probably won’t be the last, either.”
“Where’s Micaela?” he asks just as we tread up the stairs.
“Your mom texted me and told me she put her in her room.”
I yank the door open, seemingly pissed that I was dragged out of bed over him, but as soon as I swing it open, both of his hands slam it shut on either side of my head, caging me in. I can feel the heat radiating off of him from behind me.
“You act like I don’t affect you,” he whispers against the nape of my neck, the strong smell of whiskey whiffing through. “Like you don’t remember what it’s like…” His hand comes to my stomach, his fingers sprawling out. “To get fucked.” He tugs my body into him, and my ass hits between his legs.
Oh, he’s really doing this.
“Nate, you’re drunk. Go to your room.” I try to open the door again, but he won’t budge. “Nate.”
His arm snakes around my belly, and I turn in his grasp. Too close. We’re too close. His nose touches mine and his breath falls over my lips.
I look up at him. “Go to your room.”
“You don’t mean that.” He grins, his eyes crossing when they drop to my lips. The fact that he looks adorable right now is irrelevant, but it’s fact.
“I do, because you’ll wake up in the morning—”
His lips touch mine softly, not hard. There’s no eagerness to his movements, because he doesn’t need to. This is all Nate. He’s never desperate or needy, he hangs himself out as bait and dumb girls like me take it, unbeknownst about the poison that comes with that first taste. He is every girl’s wet dream, and he damn well knows it.
His lips glide over mine, and every single nerve that holds me together starts to slowly tremble.
“Stop talking, baby,” he whispers, and then softly pulls my bottom lip into his mouth.
Shit. Shit. Double fucking shit.
I can feel my
