Kasien （Age 18） #2
I go to the pool house instead and grab a bottle of beer, downing almost all of it while I go stand next to the billiard table and rest my shoulder against the wall, watching the people coming in.
Where did Natalya even get this many friends? The pool house and garden are starting to fill up. I hate crowds. Some guys are preparing a beer pong on the other side of the pool house.
Why are there so many guys? I thought this was going to be a cute girls’ party with balloons and pink cake, for fuck’s sake. Natalya is like… twelve.
Only in my head apparently.
This is starting to look like Project X. I hate it.
I look out into the garden and freeze.
Kiara’s walking toward the pool house, surrounded by two girls and some guy.
Who the fuck is that? One of the girls finally moves away and I see her more clearly as she’s coming closer.
Okay.
My lips part slightly, heat rushing up my neck.
She’s wearing a white summer dress, her olive skin glowing against the fabric. Dark waves fall over her shoulders, a few strands slipping into the neckline. I choke on my own breath for a second.
She looks carved out of the sunset.
I finish my beer too fast and immediately reach for another. I need to make this right while I have absolutely zero knowledge how to do this stuff.
She finally comes to the pool house with her friends. Natalya runs out of nowhere and jumps on her, hugging her. They laugh together while she’s hugging the rest of the newcomers.
Did she really still not notice me, or is she just ignoring me? I’m sure I wouldn’t miss it since I haven’t taken my eyes off her for ten straight minutes.
My sister leaves them alone and goes to the jocks playing beer pong while Kiara and her friends come to the alcohol table.
My mouth goes dry.
She’s here.
And she still didn’t spare me a single glance.
She’s right there, four feet away. And she still won’t look at me. She’s ignoring me on purpose.
Of course she is. I fucking deserve that.
Her hand reaches for a plastic cup, and I move faster, grabbing it before she does. She finally looks up at me.
“Hi.” My voice comes out flatter than I’d like it to.
Shit.
I have nothing.
“Hi.” She gives me a forced smile.
What do I do for the love of God?
“May I?” I lift the cup.
She nods.
“Gin and tonic,” she says, her voice cold, controlled.
Her dress is held just by thin straps on her shoulders and her skin looks so soft, tanned, golden. Long black lashes cover her chocolate eyes. She has that caring gaze, even now when she’s trying to shut me out.
I sneak another glance at her as I fill her cup with ice. Her lips press into the slightest pout—something she apparently does when she’s angry.
Too fucking tempting.
I mix the drink and hand it to her, forcing a small smile. She smiles back but not the way that melts me into my car seat. This is also melting my insides but in the most painful way.
She grabs it and walks around me, disappearing in the crowd of people.
That didn’t go well.
I drag a hand through my hair, scanning the room for her again. She’s with Natalya by the billiard table, surrounded by those jocks.
This is a nightmare.
I need Adrien to tell me what to do, but he’s somewhere in the garden, apparently too good for this party and downing a bottle of liquor. I don’t blame him. I’d love to do the same.
But I’ve got something way more important to lose my mind over tonight.
Another half an hour stretches out.
Kiara is sitting on the huge rounded sofa in the middle of the pool house, surrounded by people, girls on each side of her, thankfully, but guys everywhere around.
I keep watching her like a fucking creep, resting my shoulder on the wall with my legs crossed at the ankles.
Every now and then, some friends of my sister come to talk to me, then they usually leave when I don’t participate in normal social activities, such as talking.
The music isn’t playing that loud, so I hear most of the muffled discussion happening on that couch.
They’re basically just arguing about what they’re going to play for the last fifteen minutes. I ignore that and try to focus on Kiara instead. Her voice is quieter than the others. I can’t catch her words.
Then Natalya shouts to everyone.
“Okay, let’s play finally!”
Natalya gets up and clears the table, then grabs an empty bottle of beer.
Jesus, is she actually twelve? They are not going to play this stupidity, are they?
She sits back on the couch while the music starts blasting louder from the speakers and I don’t hear anything anymore. They all take a jello shot from the table, including Kiara.
Some girl spins the bottle while others are sipping from their cups, Kiara sitting with her legs crossed, looking like someone too beautiful for this party, chatting with the girl next to her.
She doesn’t seem like she’s minding the game. She’s not playing.
Good.
Some people get up and go to the pool house bathroom from time to time to make out, but my girl still sits there and chats with others, laughing and looking fucking irresistible.
I take another beer and walk around a bit when my friend from boxing class stops me to chat. I nod while he talks, not listening to a word, keeping an eye on her, when she—
No way.
She grabs the bottle and spins it.
No fucking way.
I shove my beer into Logan’s chest and slam our shoulders together as I rush past him, marching to the round table in the middle of that sofa, catching the bottle seconds before it stops on one of the shitfaces and pointing its tip at me.
Everyone stops mid-movement, quiet now, everyone staring at me like I’m the last person they’d expect to see here, while I’m staring at Kiara.
After a long stretching second, she finally drags her eyes from the bottle to me. I stand there for an awkward moment, everyone staring, including her.
Then I reach for her, offering her a hand.
She gives me a sharp look before she finally grabs it and gets up from the couch.
The second her hand is in mine, something in me finally settles like I’ve been waiting for it all night.
She rises, slipping past everyone’s knees with small, careful steps, her hand still in mine as I guide her out of the circle.
I lace our fingers together—God knows where I found the balls to do that, maybe it was the beer—and lead us toward the bathroom, only now realizing everyone is staring at me.
I open the door and gently push her inside. She hesitates for a split second but steps in anyway. I close the door behind us and lock it.
Her eyes widen.
I know she’s pissed, I can practically feel the heat coming off her, but I can’t stop the tiny smile tugging at my mouth.
She’s here. Right in front of me again.
“Aren’t we a little old for this game?” I say, trying to sound innocent.
It sounds anything but.
“Aren’t you a little too intrusive for someone who acted like he didn’t even know me a couple hours ago?”
Her tone is sharp, brows raised.
She’s right. I swallow. I deserved that.
“I’m sorry. I’ll explain,” I say, not breaking eye contact.
Her gaze softens, her arms crossing over her chest.
It seems now’s the time to do the explaining.
And I’ve got absolutely nothing.
“You just,” I search for words. “Caught me off guard.”
What the hell am I even saying?
Her expression sharpens, lips pressing together. She’s pissed. Really pissed.
Something tightens in my gut, something sick and panicking. She huffs and reaches for the lock.
I grab the handle before she can, not letting the door open, and our eyes snap back together.
She tilts her head, angry and so damn pretty it hurts.
Then she tries again, going for the handle, so I shove myself in front of the door, blocking it with my body.
“You can’t trap me in a bathroom, Kasien.” Her voice is low and sharp.
“Then stop running away,” I reply.
Her eyes widen more with irritation.
“I’m allowed to!”
“No.” Shit. Wrong word. “I mean yes, just not yet. Please.”
She studies me, upset, hurt, and still so gentle.
“Then tell me the truth. Were you ashamed to acknowledge me?”
That hits harder than a punch.
“What? Jesus. No.”
Of course she thinks the worst possible thing.
“So you have a girlfriend?” she asks gently, this time looking even more hurt.
“I definitely don’t,” I answer, not able to hide the little smile because that idea is actually funny to me.
I step closer without meaning to, hands tense at my sides. She crosses her arms tighter, chin lifting with that stubborn fire that kills me.
“Then what was that? At the restaurant? You couldn’t even look at me.”
I can’t look at her now either, because the guilt physically hurts. Yet I can’t stop looking.
“I panicked.” My voice comes out rough.
She raises an eyebrow.
“That’s the truth,” I mutter, stepping even closer until she has to tilt her chin up.
“I swear.” I force my voice to be softer. “I’m so sorry.”
I would gladly get on my knees to make myself even smaller, but that would probably be weird as fuck.
She hesitates, just for a heartbeat. And I feel it—the shift, the crack in her defenses. Her expression softens and my stomach is flipping over once again. The music is blasting behind the door but it’s getting more and more muffled as I look at her, the world around us slowly dissolving.
Her eyes flick down to my mouth for half a second.
That’s it, that’s the moment.
The oxygen in the room changes. The floor tilts. Everything inside me lights up like a fuse.
But she suddenly shoots her hand behind me, reaching for the handle once more, so I slam my back on the door again.
“I’m supposed to get a kiss,” I blurt out.
The sharp edge in her eyes blurs, her shoulders sink just a bit and her fingers tighten around the hem of her dress.
The confidence from a second ago melts off her face and the same shy, nervous girl from my car looks back at me.
She swallows, her gaze dropping to my chest and then climbing slowly back up to my eyes, like she has to drag it there. Her lips are close to mine because she’s wearing heels. She’s so close I could grab her neck and kiss her right now.
“Aren’t we too old for this game?” she almost whispers.
“I guess I like it after all.”
“You cheated,” she says, barely audible.
I lean a little closer to her and lift my hand slowly, giving her all the time in the world to pull away.
When I reach her neck, I graze her skin upward, goosebumps rising under my touch until my fingers find her jaw. I keep my hand there, fingers slipping into the hair behind her ear.
Her eyes flutter shut for a second and when she opens them, she looks terrified. And still she doesn’t move.
“If you don’t want to,” I murmur, my thumb touching the corner of her lips, “tell me now. I’ll stop.”
She swallows, lips parting under my touch. Her gaze drops to my lips and stays there, saying nothing.
That’s it. That’s all I need.
I lean in slowly, until the tip of my nose brushes hers. I can feel her breathing speeding up against my mouth.
For a heartbeat we just hover there, sharing the same air, my forehead resting against hers. Something inside me is about to snap, yet I still feel a need to give her time to push me away.
Instead, she tilts her chin up, closing that last inch between our lips.
Her lips meet mine in the softest, careful brush, like she’s just testing what I feel like.
She’s so warm, hesitant in the most adorable way.
My body goes still. I barely move, I just press back gently, tasting the sweetness of her breath.
For a second it’s almost innocent, just the faintest frisson.
I can feel her mouth curve into the slightest smile and something in me shifts—sharper, bolder.
I slide my hand from her jaw to the back of her neck, my fingers sinking into her skin, pulling her closer, erasing the last bit of space between us.
The kiss turns deeper, her mouth parting just enough to let me in.
She presses up on her toes, her free hand fisting in the front of my T-shirt, holding on like she doesn’t want to go anywhere.
I can’t stop my other hand from circling around the small of her back and pressing her to me more, maybe too much.
She exhales into my mouth, almost like a silent gasp.
Fuck.
Her breath quickens against my mouth, her hand gripping my neck. There’s this terrifying, dizzy rush under my skin, like I want to pull her closer and closer until there’s no space left between us.
I’m holding myself back with every bit of self-control I have, and it still doesn’t feel like enough. She’s in my hands, on my mouth, breathing into me—I’m done for.
She sinks her fingers in my hair, gripping it while our tongues meet and a soft moan escapes her throat, barely audible, but I hear it.
It sends me a little over the edge and I press her body so tight to me I might be suffocating her. She doesn’t fight it. I kiss her more, deep, our tongues touching, my fingers gripping her hair tighter, unable to let go.
I lift her up and slam my back against the door behind me. She gasps over my mouth when we hit the door, her fingers clutching at my neck, burying in my skin now.
It feels like I’m afraid someone’s about to rip her away from me, like this is the only chance I’m ever getting. Every time her lips part for me, something sharp flashes through me.
She tastes so good. Too good to wake up from this.
I slow down, but I can’t make myself let go. I drag my mouth from her lips to the corner of her mouth, the edge of her jaw, back again, greedy and completely gone.
She lets out another tiny sound, like half a smile, half a breathless whimper, and it just makes everything worse. Or better. Whatever this is.
Her fingers slide from my neck to my shoulders, bunching up the fabric of my T-shirt like she needs me closer even though there’s no space left between us.
“Kasien,” she breathes into my mouth, my name breaking apart on her lips and it’s sending the heat down my spine again.
I need to stop.
That’s too much and I’m afraid if this goes on for another second she’s going to feel something I don’t want her to.
I put her down, holding her until she stands steadily, and I pull back an inch, just enough to see her.
Her cheeks are flushed, eyes wide and glossy, lips swollen and pink from the kiss. I’ve never seen anything like it.
Like her.
My lungs burn, my heart is sprinting, and for a second I honestly don’t know if I’m about to pass out or laugh.
She catches her breath and the little smile on her lips is back—the one from my car seat, the one that started all of this.