Page 168 of Save You
“I’ll come with you,” Kieran says, instantly moving to get up.
“Don’t worry.”I wave him to sit back down.“I’ll be fine.Do you want anything though?”
Kieran hesitates a moment, his eyes darting from me to the speaker and back, then he shakes his head.“No, thanks.”
I nod and walk to the bar, where one of the waiters smiles politely and asks me what I’d like to drink.
“Champagne, please,” I say, as if it’s no big deal, but either he can see that I’m only sixteen—nearly seventeen!—or they’ve been told not to serve alcohol to anyone school-age.Either way, he slowly shakes his head.
I sigh.Looks like I have no choice but to try the kiddies’ punch on the buffet table next to the bar.I pick up one of the prettycrystal glasses, hold it up to the light, and watch the kaleidoscope-like spots of light dancing around the room in soft colors.
As I start to ladle punch from the big bowl into my glass, thunderous applause rings out around the room.Seems like the speech is over.
I take a few steps to one side so as not to block the way for anyone else heading for the table.
“Hey, beautiful,” says a voice close beside me.
I freeze.Then I grit my teeth.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been spoken to like that.There are a few boys in my year who laid bets on who could chat me up the fastest—just as a joke, obviously.
I immediately shut down and turn, glass in hand.
There’s a young man standing there.He has a handsome, attractive face; full lips, and eyes so dark they almost look black; and such curling lashes that I could be quite jealous.He’s a little taller than me, his hair is short and wavy, and there’s a hint of stubble on his face.Like most men here, he’s wearing a tailor-made suit but looks way less neat and tidy than everyone else.His tie is a bit loose, and his black jacket is unbuttoned.I get the impression that he’s gone to a lot of effort to look this messy.Like he’s been to too many of these things and is bored of them now.
He’s probably only speaking to me because he’s bored.
I look around as discreetly as possible.Usually in these situations, there’s a group of lads standing a few feet away, enjoying a laugh at my expense.But nobody seems to be watching, which makes me even more suspicious.
“Hello,” I reply, my voice hard and dismissive, the mirror image of my emotions.
The guy looks me over from head to toe, his eyes resting a little too long on the low neckline of my dress.
“I’ve never seen you here before,” he continues, looking me in the eyes again.And as his mouth slowly curls into a smile, something clicks into place.
I know this boy.
OK, I don’tknow-him-know-him, but I follow him on Instagram.His handle is @kingfitz, but I know that his real name is Wren Fitzgerald.His feed is full of luxury, parties, and girls, and his stories are full of selfies and videos where he’s half naked and apparently half asleep.But I don’t buy it.Nobody could look that good if they’d only just woken up.
“Probably because I don’t go to Maxton Hall,” I reply, sipping from the glass.My mouth feels dry and my heart is beating kind of fast.Why the hell do I care that this lad is flirting with me?
“I thought as much,” Wren murmurs, a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.It’s relaxed, almost like he’s too lazy to go to the effort of a proper smile.Like he’d rather not waste the energy he’s saving for something else, something dirtier.The idea makes me flush hotly.
“I’m Wren,” he says after a while, holding out his hand.
I hesitate a moment and look around again—his mates have to be here somewhere.I don’t believe this isn’t some joke.I mean, OK, I’m not lacking in self-esteem.It doesn’t seem totally impossible that a guy would talk to me at a party.But not a guy like him.
“Where are they?”I ask.
He blinks in confusion, lowering his hand.“Where are who?”
“The friends who dared you to hit on me.”
“Why do you think anyone would have to dare me to talk to you?”
I raise an ironic eyebrow.“Oh, come on.”
We look at each other and both frown.The pianist is playing again, but I can’t really hear the tune.I’m too busy finding out what Wren is up to here.
