Page 54 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

It would be easy for me to just…jump in bed with him.

Wild-ness.

The world starts to spin, but my face twists into a stupid smile. The investment banker grabs my hand, beginning to pull me away from the exit.

“Absolutely not, bestie.” Yenn’s clear voice pierces through my drunken fog, and I’m ripped from his grip.

For the best, I suppose.

Safely on the top platform, I give one wistful look over the space…and vow off drinking ever again because I’ve gone from intoxication to blatant hallucination.

My brain tries to convince me Storm Sandoval is here, standing in the middle of the dance floor.

I blink, and when the image doesn’t change, I accept that heishere.

Watching me with an angry gaze that sears right through my chest.

Heat pools deep in my core, and it seems like the forces of the Universe have snapped into place like magnets, compelling my feet to move closer to him. Longing like I’ve never known shoves me onto an emotional ledge, and I’m not sure what to do with my body or my thoughts.

Or that stupid organ beating in my chest.

He feels this too. He has to.

I lift my foot, prepared to take another step back toward the dance floor and directly into Storm’s arms when I stop cold in my tracks.

The girl I’ve seen him with around campus hangs off his arm, staring up at him with an expression I recognize clearly.

I understand it because if I were to get close to him, if I were standing where she is, I’d look at him the same way.

Yenn tugs me and I trip a little on the obnoxious heels. We burst onto the sidewalk; the night already cool.

“I’ll get you into bed and—” she stops a few feet from the entrance, frowning at her phone.

“What’s wrong?” I slur, still swaying.

“King?” Yenn’s voice is serious, her answer sharp as a whip. My eyebrows lower. King is Yenn’s older brother, and, if I’m honest, he’sneveraround. I’ve known Yenn almost all my life, and I’ve only seen him three times since he left Illinois to go to college.

Yenn gasps, her eyes going wide.

“When?” she rasps, and the alcohol-induced euphoria quickly starts to dissipate.

“What’s wrong?” I repeat again, stepping closer to her. But she moves away.

“Oh, god. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” she says, hanging up the phone. Her heelsclick-clackat a rapid speed as she powers toward the cab stand.

“What’s wrong!” I practically screech, and I run into Yenn’s back when she stops abruptly.

“My dad had a heart attack,” she says. I gasp, willing myself to sober up immediately.

It’s hard.

“Shit, Yenn!” She rushes to the front of the empty cab line and pulls on the back door of one car.

“Let’s go. Which hospital?” I say. Or, I try to say. Why did I get so drunk? And why did this have to happen tonight of all nights?

“No!” Yenn’s sharp declaration stops me as much as her hand on my chest. “I don’t have time to deal with your drunk ass right now, Shae. Go home.”

I’m hurt, but I nod, immediately understanding.

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