Page 68 of A Little Jaded
My best friend gives me one more look over the top of her head, appearing as confused as I feel. “You good with this?” he asks.
“Pretty sure it isn’t his decision,” Raine chirps, drawing his attention back to her.
As she crawls toward him, he sits up a little straighter, giving her a grin. “All right, Raine. Where do you want it?”
She cups his cheek with her dainty little hand, and I swear the image of her black nails against his stubbled fucking cheek is ingrained into my mind for the rest of my life.
As if in slow motion, she tilts her head and leans into him, preparing to kiss my best friend under the guise of a stupid game. I swear it’s like watching a fucking train wreck. Time slows. My pulse skips. Sweat breaks out along my hairline when she presses her mouth to his. And even though it only lasts a second, it’s the longest one I’ve endured in my entire life.
My hands fist in my lap, and my attention catches on someone behind her. It’s Drake. I don’t give a damn right now, though. I’m too distracted by the shitshow in front of me. When Raine pulls away, Griffin’s eyes stay closed as a quick laugh falls out of him, and he shakes his head.
“Fuck, man,” he says, turning to me. “You’re a lucky guy.”
“Am I?” I challenge dryly. It’s hard to keep my expression in check when all I see is red, but I force it back and quirk my brow, looking bored.
Batting her lashes at me, Raine stays quiet but motions tothe bottle in the middle of the circle, silently urging me to take my turn.
Is this a dare, Stormie?
The question burns in my eyes, but I don’t voice it aloud, too amped up from her last kiss to say a single word as I hold her gaze. With a blind flick of my wrist, I spin the bottle, not bothering to wait and see who it lands on for my hands to find Raine’s waist and drag her into me as if she weighs nothing at all. A tiny gasp escapes her before I swallow it with a kiss.
Her skin is softer than I imagined it would be. I grab her face, tilt her head, and move her exactly where I need her.
Me. Not Griffin. Not Drake.Me.
The kiss is hard and needy, and I tell myself it’s because I know her ex might be watching, but the truth is? I have a feeling I’d be kissing her regardless. Seeing her lips on my best friend? It fucked with my head, making me feel like I might be losing my damn mind. But when she kisses me back? When I feel her lips move against mine, when I swallow the tiny whimper in the back of her throat and taste the sweetness of her mouth, I fucking lose it.
I pry her lips open with my tongue, and she sucks on me, letting me pump in and out of her waiting mouth as my dick jumps to attention in my jeans. Wishing—begging—to let him have a turn. To let him mark her.
This isn’t me.
This isn’t. Fucking. Me.
I don’t lose control. I don’t get jealous. I don’t cross lines. And I sure as shit don’t unravel from a single fucking kiss. But this? This feels different. She feels different. And I’m not sure what to make of it. I’m not sure what Iwantto make of it.
Nothing. This means nothing. It’s only a kiss. Just a fucking?—
Throats clear around us, and Raine pulls away, her eyes wide. Tiny wisps of her dark hair frame one side of her face from where I held her. As she lets out a slow breath between her parted lips, she looks at me, confusion and desire swirling in her forest-green gaze. When her eyes snap to someone behind me, whatever lust was present is replaced with…fear?
Looks like our little show didn't go unnoticed.
I slowly turn my head and stare at the one and only Drake Haitt.
Good to see you again, asshole. Here we go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
RAINE
He’s here. I shouldn’t be surprised, and I guess I'm not, but knowing the possibility versus seeing it firsthand are two very different things.
“Spin the Bottle, huh?” Drake says. “Mind if we join?”
Three girls are with him, along with two of his guy friends, Johnny St. James and Mikey Knolls. Great. They already have bad blood with this house, so why not make it worse, right?
Blood whooshes in my ears, and my mouth feels like it’s full of cotton as I watch him stride closer. Part of me wants to tell him to leave. Part of me wants to get off my ass and run in the opposite direction. But this is the point, isn’t it? To prove I’m not scared anymore. I’m not…anything anymore.Wearen’t anything anymore.
“Pretty sure you could have your own circle,” Griffin says to Drake before calling for another of his teammates. “Hey, Dreggs, get this guy a bottle?—”