Page 13 of Back to You
So naturally, little-me associated booze with abuse.
This was different. Dane and I only wanted to catch a bit of a buzz and besides, it wasn’t like I hadn’t drank before at parties. Beer tasted like horse piss, but that didn’t matter when you were fifteen and wanting to fit in with the upperclassmen who’d invited you.
Peer pressure wasn’t my friend, as it turned out.
“Where’s your mom?” I asked when Dane crept back into the bedroom with two crystal wine glasses that he’d snagged out of Mrs. Fisher’s china cabinet. I pinned him with a look, but the grin he shot me was ornery. “We could’ve used normal cups, you know.”
“Yeah, but I felt like being fancy. Don’t worry, Hols, I’ve got everything under control.”
“Whenever you say that…”
“Hush. Mom’s asleep on the couch. The TV is on. She’s not gonna hear a thing.” He set the wine flutes down on the bedside table, then twisted off the cap on the wine. He took a whiff and made a face. “Smells pretty strong, but really fruity. Here.” He poured the wine, then recapped the bottle and stashed it underneath his bed for safekeeping.
“Let’s toast,” I said, lifting my glass. “To us.”
“To us,” Dane repeated. “Let the party begin.” We clinked our glasses together and took a drink. Itwaspretty strong and a little sour, but it wasn’t bad. The look on Dane’s face told me exactly how he felt about it, though, and I burst out laughing. He scoffed at me. “Whatever. Let’s game.”
It didn’t take long. Three glasses and several Smash matches later, I was feeling it—that warm, buzzy feeling that made everything inside you all light and bubbly. I’d given up being Player Two and was lounging on the bean-bag while Dane gamed. Sometimes, I just liked to watch.
It didn’t hurt that Dane was easy on the eyes, all tanned and gorgeous, his sandy hair bleached out by the sun.
His eyes were glued to the TV as he guided Mario through the course. When the plumber practically suicide-jumped off the edge of the screen, Dane howled with frustration.
“What the hell?” He chucked the controller and gave the TV the bird. “Fuck this game and its stupid levels. Who the hell beats this shit? Christ on a cracker. It’s impossible. Argh!”
“Dude, it’s just a game.” I couldn’t help but laugh at him. His face was bright red, flushed from the wine, and his sweaty hair stuck up in all different directions. He looked like he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket. When he glared at me like I’d just murdered his family, I cracked up.
“Shut up, Hollister Bay,” he grumbled.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sorry. I laughed even harder. “It’s just… It’s yourface.”
“What’s wrong with my face?” He scowled, but I saw his lips twitch. He was fighting it, but we both knew he was only minutes away from losing it right along with me. “Huh?” He poked me in the ribcage.
I laugh-snorted. “You look like a…a gremlin or something.”
“Yeah? You think that’s funny? You wanna know whatIthink is funny?” He launched himself at me and began to tickle me senseless. When I squealed, he started cackling. “You, screaming like a little bitch. You’re gonna get it now.” He pinned me to the bean-bag chair beneath him, relentless in his revenge. I shrieked and laughed until my gut ached.
“Oh. Oh, my stomach. Stop, it hurts, oh god… Uncle!”
He leaned in close, the tips of our noses touching. “Say please,” he murmured, and time stood still. His voice was thick and low. It was all I could do to breathe. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and before I could register what exactly was happening, his lips were on mine and we were kissing andholy shit.My world tipped upside down. I couldn’t think straight. Hell, I was pretty sure all thought ceased to exist.
I didn’t want it to end.
Dane Fisher waskissingme. Dane Fisher wastouchingme.
It was over too soon. He pulled away with a weird little laugh, but I didn’t let him get too far. Maybe it was all those years of pent-up frustration and yearning for my best friend—or hell, maybe it was the wine giving me balls of steel—but I went for it. This was my one chance.
I leaned up and crushed our lips together, grasping at his wild locks in a desperate attempt to keep him with me. He moaned out loud and my pants were suddenly too tight.
His fingers curled into my short hair as his mouth covered mine, his lips soft and warm and wonderful. He tasted like summertime and blackberries, laughter and sunshine. I couldn’t get enough. His kisses were infectious things, bombarding my immune system, but damn if I didn’t want to carry that disease.
“Dane.” I gasped when he groped over my crotch. Holy hell, were we seriously doing this? My pulse was ricocheting through my veins like the pinballs in those old machines at the run-down arcade. I couldn’t breathe. Dane murmured something in my ear, kissing down the side of my neck. He sucked on my skin. I might’ve whimpered. I wasn’t quite sure. “Please.”
“More?” he whispered and I couldn’t nod fast enough. I needed it. My dick twitched when he rubbed his palm over the seam of my jeans. He popped the button and with a whirr of zipper teeth, he wrapped his fingers around my erection. I bit down on my lip and watched the expressions flicker across his face as he began to stroke me off.
“Kiss me,” I pleaded, and he did. Our lips fused like they were born to be together, like it was written in the stars that this very moment would happen. I cupped the side of his neck, then groaned softly into his mouth at the sensations tingling through me from head to toe. Between the haze of pleasure and the sheer desire in my blood, time blurred until all I could focus on was Dane.
Dane. Dane. Dane.
