Page 123 of Driftwood Daffodil

I stopped and cocked a brow. I did like bourbon.

“Come on,” Simon held up a red cup. “It’s the least I can do.”

He did owe me…

“Fine,” I snatched the cup out of his hand. “But this isn’t a peace offering. I still hate you.”

His brow arched, “You can’t avoid me forever.”

Yes I could.

“You’ll have to talk to me one day.” He called out when I walked deeper in the crowd.

I held up my hand and waved over my shoulder, “No I won’t.”

The next twenty minutes were spent trying to ignore the fact that my ex-boyfriend was here while I enjoyed his bourbon. Memphis and Chuck had snuck off somewhere – I assumed to make up – and everyone else was too drunk to talk to.

So I decided to just enjoy myself and wave my hand through the music in the air. It was a good beat and the white streaksfollowing my hand were so bright and fluffy I could help but giggle. If only the ground would stop moving.

“Hey there.”

I turned to see a pair of blue eyes. It was like looking into the ocean.

“You’re cute,” something grabbed my ass and pulled me up against a firm body.

I couldn’t stop staring at the waves crashing in those eyes. They were going back and forth, back and forth. And they were getting closer. Inch by inch those blue depths moved in until I could feel something warm brush across my lips.

That’s when a fist flew through the air.

GIOVANNI

High school parties weren’t something Darry, Atlee, or I did. When someone grew up in the world we did, gatherings of dancing and debauchery seemed a tad immature. By the time we hit teenage years, our idiotic drunken days were long past. My father gave me my first drink when I was eleven. My brothers were ten.

Atlas once told me it was so I could build up my tolerance and not make a fool of myself when I hit high school, which now that I was older made a lot more sense. The last thing our fathers wanted was for us to draw attention to ourselves and in return, the family. That’s pretty much all these things were. Alcohol infused bouts of attention seeking.

Darry followed Atlee and I through the trees and shook his head. “I can’t believe you brought up marriage.”

Technically all I did was suggest an alternative solution to a problem. Marriage didn’t occur to me until after.

“Wait…” Atlee swept a batch of Spanish moss hanging off the Cypress branches out of his way, “this was your idea?”

“Yes,” I sighed. “It was my idea.”

He better not ask me why. I was still trying to figure that out.

“So, you do want her?”

“No, I don’t want her.” Of course I didn’t want her. It was just a spur of the moment decision. Or temporary insanity.

“Okay…” confusion further embedded in the lines on Atlee’s face. “But if you don’t want Nova… then why offer to marry her?”

“Who else is he going to marry? Alex?” Darry scoffed out a snort. “That’s just asking for trouble.”

I was with Darry on that one. Atlee’s baby sister wasn’t what one would consider a desirable bride. Wives had to be one of two things to survive our world, docile or strong enough not to break. Alex was neither. Chaos followed that girl around like a fucking shadow.

“Hey, Alex is just young.” Atlee shot Darry a dirty look. “She’ll grow out of it.”

Atlee had a soft spot for his baby sister.

---