Page 37 of The Worst Kind of Promise
There’s only one person who’s consistently happy to see me and who embraces me like a crocodile doing a death roll in the water.
“Aeris, hi,” I wheeze, and upon knocking the breath out of my lungs, Aeris sets me down with an apologetic smile.
She brushes nonexistent dust motes off me. “Ahh, sorry.”
I wave her off. “I love your hugs. I just need a warning next time.”
Lila, Aeris’ best friend, catwalks over to us on six-inch heels, balancing a juicy wedge of watermelon in one hand and a cocktail in the other. She looks stunning with her waves of blond hair falling to her lower back, the natural brush of makeup over her prominent bone structure, and the tiny bikini accentuating every well-proportioned asset of hers. Curves in all the right places, toned muscle definition, an enviable height, sun-kissed skin. It makes sense that she’s a model.
“Faye, you look gorgeous,” she says, enveloping me with a lot less strength. God, she even smells amazing. I pull away before she realizes that I’m sniffing her.
“Youlook gorgeous! Are you guys enjoying the party?”
“It’s incredible. Just the summer kickoff we needed,” Aeris replies, leaning over to take a sip of Lila’s drink.
Lila glares at Aeris as she takes a prolonged pull, but she doesn’t dare cut her off. “We wanted to take you out to lunch sometime next week if you’re up for it.”
A large grin snags the corner of my mouth, warmth broiling in my chest, a far cry from the mess of hormones I was only a few days ago. “I’d love that.”
“Perfect!” Aeris claps her hands together, the heat-treated curls of her hair bouncing against her shoulders. “It’s been so long since either of us had a girl’s day! I just need a break from the testosterone, you know?”
Oh, do I. I haven’t been living in the house for more than a week, and already I’ve craved more female interaction that I have in all my life. Living with six guys is not for the faint of heart. An overflow of unwashed dishes, underwear in places underwear should not be, sometimes pee on the toilet seat—which is weird since I thought hockey players were supposed to have good aim.
“We want to hear all about what’s going on in your life,” Lila adds, rubbing her hand down my arm in a motherly fashion.
My life? Oh, God. Before I have the chance to make up some bullshit excuse and get the hell out of whatever I just agreed to, Aeris gives me a kiss on the cheek.
She loops her arm through Lila’s. “We’re going to make our rounds, but come find us later.”
And then I watch as the two get swallowed up by the crowd, leaving me alone at the threshold of the party. I contemplate finding Kit, but the universe decides for me when it delivers him up on a silver platter right before my eyes. The moment he sees me, something strange distorts his expression. I can’t tell what’s going on in that head of his, but it doesn’t seem to be good as he bulldozes through groups of people to get to me.
I’m beginning to think I have some sign taped to my chest that says “PULLHERE,” because for the second time this day, my arm gets yanked out of its socket. Kit leeches my balance, leading me to a more private sector of the party, his body so close that if someone were to see us right now, they might be smart enough to put the pieces together.
“What—”
When we take refuge away from potential spectators, he releases me. I know I should be questioning his urgency, but my thoughts seem to crack and disperse when I get a glimpse of his naked torso—brawn packed into muscles that bear subdued strength.
I remember the way he practically rearranged my guts with his giant cock. We burn fast and bright like a shooting star, a once-in-a-life kind of experience, so rare that a connection like this doesn’t happen for just anyone.
His own train of thought seems to have derailed. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“Your bikini.”
I glance down at my party-appropriate attire. “What about it?”
“I…it’s…well…you…” Kit croaks, the tips of his ears turning crimson. It’s smaller than something I’d normally wear, and I guess the tiny piece of fabric only covering my nipples could warrant some lewd stares.
I tighten the black bikini strings twisted around my torso self-consciously. Polyester strips wrap around me three times, creating a skin-revealing cutout, complementing the equally revealing bottoms. “I…?”
“You’re going to ruin me,” he whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear.
What?
There’s a pregnant pause, then Kit shakes his head emphatically. He adjusts his swim trunks ever so slightly. “That’s not why I came over here.”
There’s a visible fight ensuing on his face, oscillating between guilt and conviction. “We need to talk,” he says, his bravado chilling me to the core despite the temperature being in the steady nineties.
