Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty-five
Kian
Being dead center of the dance floor is nothing new for me. But being here with Scarlett pressed up against me is a whole new territory.
My head swims and I’m unsure if it’s from the alcohol or her citrus scent. I’ve been following her around all night like my North Star, and even when Cassie pulled me aside to talk about some hangout, I couldn’t focus. My heart hummed a quiet beat of Scarlett, Scarlett, Scarlett.
The house lights flash in hues of pink, red, and blue, but my eyes are fixed on her lips. How she drags them under her teeth and into a small smile.
The music pulses through our crammed house, bodies sliding against one another. Scarlett grips my shirt again, and I finally feel the music. My body moves in sync with hers, letting her guide my hips as the music seems to grow louder. Seeing her like this is addicting.
I follow her every step like a loyal dog, and I let her touch me however she wants. Her hands fall to my shoulders, then up to my ears and into my hair as I lean toward her.
My hands slip to the bareness of her waist, where her cropped shirt doesn’t reach.
The smooth skin is soft under my fingertips, and I make her breath hitch when my hands cage her waist. She feels so good under my hands, so right, that I don’t think twice before I lift her.
Scarlett laughs, throwing back her head as we spin.
I lower her, her body sliding against mine and our clothes rubbing together like they shouldn’t be there.
When she comes to my eye level, the music muffles and I can feel her heart thrashing against mine.
I lean forward and her breath hitches, but I don’t miss the way she gravitates toward me too. Her warm breath falls on my lips and the warning of alcohol in her system makes me draw away. I don’t do this.
I stumble back, turning away only to bump right into Sampson, who’s carrying a tray of shots, spilling it all over me.
“Shit, Ishida. Watch where you’re going.” He gives a drunken chuckle. I stare down at my soaked costume.
“Just take it off,” he says, and someone behind him whistles. It’s Cole. Any other day, I’d pull it off and probably take the shots for myself, but right now, I can’t promise what’s happening underneath this after dancing with Scarlett, so I’d rather not take that chance.
“I’m gonna go change,” I say, pushing past people to head upstairs. I step over the baby gate Summer put up to hinder drunk people from going upstairs.
The second I shut my bedroom door, I rest my head against it, feeling the bump of music on the wood. I take a few breaths, but every time I close my eyes, I see her. Feel her. My finger in her mouth, my body between her legs, hers against mine.
“Shit,” I mutter, pulling away to remove my alcohol-soaked costume. I pull off the garment, shrugging the robe past my shoulders. The fabric hits the floor with a quiet thud before I hear my door open.
“Kian?” her voice puts me on high alert. “I thought I’d check on you.”
“I’m fine. I just couldn’t stand the smell,” I say, still not facing her.
The door clicks shut. For a moment I think she’s gone, but relief doesn’t follow.
“Did I do something?” she asks.
When I turn to look at her, and in my dim, moonlit room, her face nearly glows.
“What? No, Scarlett. You…you didn’t do anything. I just needed a second away.”
“Oh. I can go.” She makes a move to leave, but I catch her hand. The warmth of it leaves me disoriented. We’re close again, and I scold myself for being in this position for the third time tonight. So close yet so fucking far away from what I want. Need.
“What are the letters for?” she asks, pivoting the conversation from what I expected it to be. “On your back, the letters.”
My hand moves to my opposite shoulder, touching the tattooed letters. “It’s Japanese. My dad’s name.”
Her head tilts. I’m not sure she even realizes when she does that. But it’s like she’s trying to memorize the moment from all angles.
Scarlett steps forward. “And this?” She presses her fingers right against my sternum, making me swallow hard as she traces the nautical star.
“He worked on ships his whole life.”
She runs her fingers over a few more. I don’t think I can breathe right now. The more she asks, the more she’ll realize they all connect to my dad somehow. The thought takes my mind to the ones for my mom, but I push it away.
I texted Kiyomi earlier, and she told me to enjoy the party and that she’d text me later. I’m not sure I believe that.
“I should clean myself up,” I whisper. Why the hell am I whispering?
“I can do it,” Scarlett offers, nearly gutting me. She takes off into my bathroom before I can speak.
She returns with a wet towel, giving no warning before she cleans my torso like this is normal. Like this slow, deliberate touch, where she runs the rag over my abs and my chest, isn’t sending my body into something close to cardiac arrest.
“There. All clean,” she says, folding the rag in her hand but it slips to the ground.
We both reach for it at the same time, and our foreheads collide. I let out a low groan that mixes with hers.
“Shit, sorry,” I say, rubbing the spot on her head. I blow on it, like I would if we were kids on a playground. Like my dad used to do to me.
Scarlett bites down a smile. “Your forehead’s red.”
“So is yours. I can go get you some ice,” I offer.
She takes hold of my wrist, shaking her head.
I don’t know how long we stare at each other.
Long enough that I forget about changing into a new shirt, the party downstairs, and everything that isn’t her.
All I can feel is this sudden, bone-deep stillness, like I’ve stepped off a ledge but haven’t hit the ground yet.
There’s a moment when I look into her eyes and I think I see my soul reflected.
My pulse trips when her chest brushes against mine, and I can taste her, that’s how close she is. I’m about to make that a reality when my bedroom lights dim, and the music downstairs stops just for a second before the power comes back on.
That can’t be good.
Scarlett and I stare at each other before I’m tugging her downstairs with me.
We pass Sampson and Amara in a corner by the stairs, his back against the wall and a smirk on his face as she points a finger in his face.
We pass Dylan’s room, and I hope he and Sierra don’t hear the commotion, but I’m pretty sure they won’t be hearing much of anything other than each other tonight.
We weave through the crowd to the porch, where Cole’s shaking his head, and everyone else gathers. Scarlett drops her hand from mine.
When he sees me he yelps. “It was an accident! It was supposed to be a dumb prank.”
I’m staring at our most prized possession, the hot tub, filled with beer. The outlet we use to turn it on sparking, and a bottle smashed beside it. Sebastian emerges from the backyard, wearing a snorkel.
When he sees me, his eyes go wide and he pulls it off. “Please don’t bench me again.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, staring at the two of them, when I hear Aiden and Eli laughing. They’re recording my reaction, having the time of their fucking lives.
“It’s not funny,” I mutter.
“Are you kidding? It’s like a mirror of the shit I dealt with,” Aiden says, staring at a captain irritated with his two linemen. Yeah, karma’s a bitch.
I turn to the guys. “I’ll deal with you in the morning. Just clean this up.”
They mutter an apology before heading inside to grab the broom. The guys clear the porch, and it’s just Scarlett and me left out here. But now that we’re away from the heat that filled my bedroom, I feel a distance between us. Something that makes her stare at anything but me.
“Hey, about what happened upstairs…” I start to say.
“What happened?” she asks, drunkenly blinking up at me.
I think that shard of glass from earlier found its way to my heart. But she’s right, nothing happened. Of course it didn’t. She’s drunk, and so am I.
And I’d hate to be like every other guy she’s met at parties like these.
Scarlett and me, we’re good like this.
We’re friends. Everyone is always just my friend.