Page 14 of After Our Kiss

“Are you sure?” she asked, already backing up.

Laughing, I grabbed a red cup from one of the many tables and filled it with rum and coke. “See me making a drink? I'm sure. Let's mingle and talk about it later.”

Clasping her hands, she bounced off to go talk to Mister Startup. I watched her lips move, saw his spread in a grin, and when she giggled I was sure I'd be taking a taxi home alone.Ah, but my purse is in her car.I should have brought it inside. I could have played on my phone in the corner and ignored everyone.

No. Chelsea wants me to mingle.She meant well, and considering how many times I'd tried to fixherlife, I owed her some effort. Sipping my drink was only so fun. Swaying to the ever changing, forgettable techno beat wasn't engaging me, either.

Parties have always made me feel lonely. And my mind was still fixating on the video footage of Conway.Maybe I'm wrong and it wasn't him.It wasn't a leap to think I could be jumping at shadows. I'd done it before. But I wanted to be right. I wanted that man to be the boy I'd known in another lifetime.

Reaching up, I grazed the back of my neck, touching the skin my long hair hid. Conway had left an impact on my heart.Tomorrow, I'll go to the police and see what they can tell me.If the man they wanted was really him...then I needed to know why.The news said he was suspected of kidnapping girls.But that was ridiculous. I knew him. He'd never do something like that.

He could never be his father.

Taking my red solo cup on a tour of the big house, I scanned all the strangers. They'd formed groups; mixing in and starting a conversation would be hard. I'd finished my drink, and was debating on getting another, when a new problem popped up.

Damn, I need to pee.Wandering up the stairs, I found the bathroom easily—there was a huge line of people waiting for it. Rocking side to side, I groaned.Maybe I should take this as a sign to just leave. Chelsea wouldn't even know.But my bladder couldn't make it all the way to my apartment, let alone a store that might let me use their restroom. Back home, you could have knocked on anyone's house, and they'd have let you use their bathroomandgiven you a cup of coffee.

I miss Virginia.I missed... a lot of things.

“There's another bathroom around back,” a guy behind me said, gesturing. “In the guest house. I can show you?”

He was around my height, his hair the color of summer wheat. Nice enough looking. Chelsea would dig his type. I was more interested in what he'd just suggested. “That'd be great, thanks,” I said, smiling sheepishly.

“I'm Jason, by the way.” He hopped down the stairs.

“Georgia,” I said, chasing him past rows of people. The crowd thinned towards the back of the house, and when we exited into a large yard surrounded by stubby pine trees and brick walls, we were alone.

Jason glanced back with a bright smile. “Are you cold? You don't have a jacket.”

“My friend's idea,” I said, rolling my eyes. “She thought a jacket would hide my—” I shut up, realizing that talking about my “assets” would sound egotistical. And I wasn't. I'd have been just as happy in a plastic garbage bag and left alone.

Pursing his lips, Jason pointed at a small building across the yard. His breath was visible in the cool night air. “Here it is.” He opened the door for me, flicking on the light. It was cozy; a small shag rug, Ikea furniture, one of those giant arching lamps that I was always afraid I'd tip over if I blew on it.

“Is this your house?” I asked, ducking under his arm and entering the building.

“No.” He shut the door behind us. “Paul owns it all, I've just been here a bunch of times. Bathroom is over there.”

It wasn't easy to miss, being the only other door. This place didn't even have a closet. Ducking into the bathroom, I shut myself inside and sighed happily.Of course, the one interaction I have is with a guy showing me where to find a toilet.Chelsea would laugh at that later.

Cleaning up, I dried my hands and fixed my hair in the mirror. It wasn't like I could do much with it, the reddish, thick strands were in a perpetual state between frizzy and stiff.

When I stepped out, Jason was sitting on the small white couch, his feet on the glass table. There were some books in a stack, one of them—a copy ofThe Great Gatsby—was now in his hand. He was holding a pose, as if I'd caught him in the moment of beingintellectual. Right then I knew he was fake.

That doesn't make him a bad person,I reminded myself. I knew all about acting fake. I did it a lot to get through the day. Smiling, I cleared my throat. “All set.”

“Oh, great!” Dropping the novel, he stretched his arms across the back of the couch. “So, Georgia. Anyone ever make any jokes about you being a state incepting another state?” He made the iconicbwowmsound from the movie Inception.

I covered my mouth. “Hah, nope. I usually get better jokes than that.”

He laughed loudly, throwing back his head. When he considered me again, his eyes were warm... twinkling. “Hey. Come sit over here, let's get to know each other.”

My stomach plummeted. “I'd like to get back to the party.”

“The party isn't going anywhere.” Jason unfurled from the couch, swaying towards me. I became super aware of my distance from the door... how his body was blocking me. “In fact, there's a better one right here, babe.”

“Jason, I'm not interested. Sorry.” Why the fuck was I apologizing? Tensing my body, I gave him a sharp frown. “Let's just get out of here.”

His head tipped lower. I was reminded of a lion as it prowled. “Relax, doll. I only want to show you a good time. And you should be thanking me. I helped you out, right?”

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