I’M FUCKED. I don’t know when it happened, or even how exactly, but I am so far gone over this girl. I don’t even know what to do with myself anymore. Or with her.
The party is a complete rager, the house packed with people, most of them I know, or at least know of. Everyone here tonight is around my age or a little bit older. Don’t think there’s one person in attendance that’s over thirty.
Meaning there are drunk teenagers everywhere, openly doing drugs. Passing blunts, hovering over a mirror snorting coke—how eighties of them—and I swear to fucking God I saw a small group in the shadows, shooting up.
Stereotypes exist for a reason. We are definitely rich kids with too many fake friends, as Frank Ocean says in his epic song.
“Whit.”
I turn to find Spencer approaching me, a giant smile on his face, his eyes glazed over. He’s either drunk or high—or maybe a combination of both.
“What’s up?” I ask him. “I thought you were in the city for the week.”
“Found out about Leighton’s party and had to show.” Spence shrugs.
Leighton Michaels. Hottest girl from Newport. Graduated from Lancaster last year. Yes, I fucked her. Only once though. She keeps that pussy on lockdown most of the time, and honestly?
It’s not that special.
“You got such a thing for Leighton you had to rush right over?” I ask, raising my brows. Who hasn’t sometime in their life?
“Nah. I was bored. Knew you would all be here tonight,” Spencer says, glancing around the giant drawing room we’re currently standing in. “Have you spotted Dean yet?”
“I haven’t seen him, but I only just arrived.” After thoroughly fucking Summer in the back of the town car.
I can still smell her. Taste her. The feel of her pussy gripping my dick, Jesus. I can’t get enough of her.
It’s worrisome.
“Your sister around?” He does his best to keep his tone casual, but I know the truth.
Spencer has it bad for Sylvie, and I think she feels the same way about him. And while I’m not one hundred percent approving of this relationship, I can’t stop her from going after who she wants.
I can threaten Spencer to treat her right, though, which I already have. He blows me off every time I bring it up, and he’s about the only one who could get away with that.
So I leave the topic alone. Sylvie’s a big girl. I’ve come to terms with the idea of her and Spencer together. But if that asshole breaks her heart?
I’ll fucking destroy him and he knows it.
“She’s here,” I say drolly as I glance around, trying to spot her blonde head. “Not sure where though. She’s probably with Summer.”
“Savage?” He sends me a questioning look and I nod. “What the fuck is she doing here?”
“Sylvie brought Savage with her for Thanksgiving as her playdate,” I answer.
“More like your playdate. Or plaything,” Spencer says with a chuckle. It fades when I send him a dirty look. “What? It’s true. We all know you’re fucking her.”
“I am,” I admit, shocked that I said it out loud. “But it’s nobody’s business but ours.”
“I don’t care what you do with her. I’m not interested so have at it,” Spence says.
“You better not be interested,” I say, my threat only mild. “You saw what happened to Bryan.”
“Right, and Elliot. He was a part of our friend group, man,” Spence says. “He was about as close as he could get to you.”
“He was a dickbag who jumped my ass,” I remind Spence, who’s smart enough to shut the fuck up. “Don’t defend him.”
“Hope that pussy is worth it.” Spence shakes his head. “I need a drink. See ya later?”
“Sure.” I watch him go, not caring that he left. My head is too full of thoughts of Summer, and what I’ve done for her. What she’s done for me. What I still have on her.
Like that stupid fucking journal I don’t give a rat’s ass about anymore. I should give it back to her. What if it falls into the wrong hands? From what I’ve seen, her biggest secret is the relationship between her and Yates.
Which is all sorts of fucked, but I can’t judge her for it. I’ve done some messed up things in my life, just as she has.
Maybe that’s why we’re so—perfect together. Because we are. I can admit this. I’m all sorts of fucked up and so is she. I’m mean to her and the girl likes it. She gets off on it. I call her a whore and she takes it as a compliment.
But she’s my whore. No one else’s.
I make my way around the cavernous room, stopping to talk to people I know, vaguely or otherwise. Girls smile and flirt but I keep moving. I’m not interested, my thoughts consumed with only one female who’s here tonight.
Where the hell is she anyway?
I search the lower level of the house, where the party is. There are people spilling out of every single room. Lingering in the corridor that leads to the private wing. So much laughter and food and drink. I feel like I’m standing alone among the partygoers. An observer who can’t participate.
My head is everywhere but here. I think of the earlier conversation between my father and me. It’s not like I want to stay with Summer forever—hell, I don’t know what I want—but being with her has made me realize that I don’t want to end up like my parents either. Bored and unhappy, and in search of something else with someone else. Fuck that.
I’m just never getting married.
“Whittaker!” the hostess says when she spots me, pulling away from a group of women to come over to me, a big smile on her pretty face. “I didn’t expect you to show up.”
“You’re having the hottest party over break,” I tell her as she wraps me up in a quick hug. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”
“I should’ve known.” Leighton steps back to take me in. “I saw your sister a few minutes ago. She’s looking…thin.”
“She’s had some health issues.” I’m vague because it’s none of Leighton’s business and besides, Sylvie’s issues are vague. I don’t understand what’s going on with her, and Sylvie doesn’t talk about it much beyond telling me she’s going to die.
“She told me she’s staring at her last days, and I quote.” Leighton appears amused. I’m sure she doesn’t believe Sylvie.
I don’t really either, though I suppose I should. But she’s always been fascinated with death, ever since she was a little kid. Lately she’s been saying she’s going to live fast and die young.
Couldn’t we all claim that? Every single person in this fucking estate is living fast and could die young.
“Don’t listen to her,” I say dismissively, not wanting to talk about my sister. “How are you?”
“I’m great. Harvard has been…amazing.” She smiles. Her daddy donated a quarter of a million dollars to the famed institution so, of course, she got in. “Where did you apply?”
“A few colleges,” I say and leave it at that. I’m not wanting to discuss my choices because I don’t want to jinx myself. What if I don’t get in?
What the hell am I saying? I will get in wherever I want to go. I’m a fucking Lancaster. And if my grades aren’t good enough, then I’ll buy my way in.
“A few colleges,” she says lightly, mimicking me. “Whatever, Whit. I’m sure you’ll end up at Harvard. With me.”
“Who says I want to go to Harvard?” I’d prefer to go to a college somewhere on the west coast. Stanford is my first college of choice, with USC a close second.
“We could be the golden couple on campus.” She takes a step closer, rubbing her body against mine. “We always did go well together.”
What the hell is she talking about? We flirted for a year and fucked once. She was too much effort for very little payback. No thanks.
Glancing around to make sure no one sees us, I settle my hand on the small of her back and lean in to whisper, “I already have someone.”
Leighton laughs, the sound tinkling and light. Like I’m a big ol’ jokester. “If you’re referring to Leticia, please. That girl will sit and wait for you in the wings for years. Her parents are dying for you to marry her. She’ll do whatever it takes to make them happy.”
“Do you actually know Leticia?” I ask, raising a brow.
Her smile is sly. “Darling, Leticia is here. Coked up in my bathroom upstairs.”
I’m fucking floored. “Leticia does coke?”
Leighton laughs. “She does more than coke, if you want me to be honest. But you’d think you’d already know, considering she’s your future bride.”
“Not any longer,” I admit, hating that I said it the moment the words leave me.
Leighton has a big mouth. She’ll tell everyone.
“Oh really? And does Leticia know this?”
“No, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell her.” I give her back a rub before I drop my hand. “Be a friend, would you?”
“A friend? I would never call us that, Whit. Lovers? Briefly, yes. But friends? No.” She steps in closer. “I can keep a secret though. If you want to sneak off and…catch up.”
I’m not even tempted. The last thing I want to do is find myself caught up in Leighton’s web. The girl is gorgeous, but toxic.
“Gonna have to pass,” I tell her.
“Oops. Not sure if I can keep your secret then.” She gives me the doe-eyed look, her glossy lips formed in a pout. “Might have to go check on Leticia right now. I’m sure she’ll need consoling, since her future has been suddenly snatched away from her.”
She starts to walk away and I grab her arm, stopping her. “Help a friend out.”
“You help a friend out,” she tosses back at me, yanking her arm out of my grip. “Come on. For old time’s sake.”
“Like I said, Leighton. I have someone,” I remind her, my gaze scanning the area yet again.
But Summer is nowhere to be found.
“When has that ever stopped you before, hmm?” She presses herself against me again, her hands landing on my shirt front, her fingers stroking my chest. “Let’s go to my room. I remember you being exquisitely talented with your tongue.”
“I’m not eating your pussy,” I tell her flatly, which only makes her laugh harder.
“God, Whit. Have a little class.” She stands straighter, reaching up and brushing her fingers along my jaw. “Fine. Maybe I don’t want you to eat my pussy. Maybe I want you to fuck me against a wall. I also remember you always did like it a little rough.”
Nothing is happening down below, despite her offers. I could take this girl into the nearest empty room with a lock and fuck the shit out of her. A year ago, I would’ve, no questions asked. Hell, six months ago, I would’ve done it.
I can’t now though. I won’t cheat on Summer.
Jesus, listen to me. We’re not together, but I can’t stand the thought of being with someone else. Worse?
I absolutely cannot bear the thought of Summer being with someone else. Just imagining her with another guy makes me want to tear something apart.
Namely the faceless guy she might be with.
Clearly I’ve got problems. All of them having to do with the beautiful, irresistible Summer.
“What do you say, Whit?” Leighton purrs, cozying herself up against me. “You in? It’ll be our little secret.”
I rest my hand on her waist, about to shift her away from me when something catches my eye. More like someone.
Summer. Standing only a few feet away. Watching me with sad eyes.
Just before she turns and runs.
