Page 33 of Made for Cyn

“Mind what?” I ask cautiously.

“You ready to give me that cherry, beauty?”

Huffing out a breath, I cross my arms over my chest. “Fuck off, butt fucker!”

Jig chortles, but I pay him no mind and stare at Cyn, his eyes unfocused as he looks through me.

“See? It’s all good,” Cyn murmurs before looking out the window.

Bewildered, I glance between the guys and spend the remainder of the hour’s drive wondering who Shelby is and what I just agreed to because I have a sneaking suspicion it’s one of his chicks, and I just permitted him to be with her.

Which is fine. I mean, we’re not together. This isn’t some romantic scenario. He wants my cherry and nothing more, but it doesn’t stop the aching ball of dread growing in my stomach as I wonder why he even asked me to begin with.

Because he wants me so badly? Yeah, right.

When we pull up to the Point, I glance around, but all I see are trees and a bunch of parked cars. As soon as we emerge from the vehicle, though, I hear the harsh sounds of a party emanating from the forest above us.

Completely ignoring me, Cyn stalks ahead, and helplessly I watch him go, noting his displeasure in the stiff set of shoulders, but I don’t know what he wants from me or why he would be so upset.

Bastion follows Cyn quietly as Jig slows to walk beside me. Once they’re out of earshot, he murmurs, “Why you gotta fight him, Lil’ B?”

“Fight who?”

He gives me an impatient stare, and I dip my head. “So he can—what? Drop me when he gets what he wants? I mean, I don’t even know what he wants.”

His mouth quirks into a grim smile, and I shrink under the disapproval in his eyes. “Hmm, well, just steer clear of Shelby. She’s a bitch.”

“Right,” I whisper.

We emerge into a clearing where a couple dozen peers are gathered around a fire, drinking, dancing, and, oh shit, getting it on, right here. Holy shit.

My face flames when I spy appendages I’ve never seen and certainly never envisioned seeing in public flop around before looking away uncomfortably, right into Cyn’s amused stare.

He quirks a brow as a beautiful girl with big boobs, a tiny waist, and long, dark hair grabs his attention. To my horror, he smirks at me and scoops her up before sticking his tongue down her throat.

I stutter to a stop and clench my fist at my side as I watch him play out his cruel game. Why is he acting like an asshole?

Whatever. I’m done.

Raising my chin, I turn away before I give in to marching up there and grabbing her no doubt fake-ass hair extensions, an anomaly I learned about only recently. Who puts fake hair in their hair?

My heart burns at the sight, but I have no stake in this game, or so I tell myself as I follow Jig around the fire.

Since I don’t know a single person here, beyond the guys who brought me, I plop down miserably next to some dude who looks like a roadie for Marilyn Manson and smile weakly when he gives me a chin dip. “Sup?”

“Hey.”

From the corner of my eye, I spy Cyn, and I presume Shelby, disappear behind the trees. I guess I should be thankful they’re not doing it right here in my face, but my throat clogs with misery anyway. What did I expect from the jerk who pushed me away when I got all flustered in the face of his desire? He’s not exactly a nice guy.

Bastion proceeds to suck face with some girl across the fire while Jig sidles up to a group of giggling chicks before wrapping his arms around the two nearest him and effectively leaving me to my own devices.

Why am I here? What was the point of driving an hour both ways to bring me here while they all hook up?

Seriously messed up shit.

“Wanna drink?” My neighbor asks, and reluctantly I nod.

I’m no more excited to be here than with Iris, and now I’m stuck while the jerk who plucked me from the last party for reasons known only to him presumably fucks some chick while I sit here alone. I don’t even know anyone at this damn party.

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