I looked up, frowning, as a tall, thin guy with shaggy red hair interrupted me. I opened my mouth to tell him to get lost when I realized that he wasn’t talking to me: he was asking Vi to dance. And even more shocking, she was nodding and rising to her feet.
“I’ll be back,” she murmured as she followed him through the open doors and onto the crowded deck which had become a dance floor tonight. I sank into the cushions of the threadbare couch, feeling abandoned and alone.
Even though there was a decent breeze wafting through the doors and windows, it was suddenly far too stuffy for me. I decided what I needed was a little silence, a little solitude, and some breathing room.
I slipped outside and disappeared into the dark.
* * *
Dean
“When did you stop being fun?” Lori glared at me again just before her eyes flickered toward to the two guys who stood next to her, their gazes shifting from me to her with only cursory interest.
“My idea of having fun doesn’t include doing something that could get me kicked off the football team and out of the Academy,” I retorted, crossing my arms. “This is fucking idiotic, Lore. Since when do you need chemical help to have a good time? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Not one damn thing.” She shoved at my shoulder and took a step back. “I’m young, and I like to party. That makes me normal, in case you’ve forgotten what that looks like.”
I opened my mouth to say something that I knew I’d probably regret then snapped it shut. Getting into a huge argument here the night before I was due to leave made no sense—not when I was beginning to realize how little this friendship meant to me anymore.
“Fine.” I spread my hands. “Do what you’re going to do. But don’t expect me to be here when you’re done. I’m out.”
I turned around and headed toward the door we’d come in almost an hour ago. Frankly, as far as I was concerned, being here forty-five minutes was long enough. Maybe too long.
When I stepped out onto the wide wooden porch, the blessed silence almost hurt my ears. Inside, the pounding music had been relentless. I paused for a second, gripping the rail in front of me, and leaned forward, blowing out a long breath.
“Hey. You okay, pal?”
The voice came from a dark corner, and I jerked around, instinctively on the defensive. As my vision adjusted, I made out the figure of someone sitting in a rocking chair. The hair rose on the back of my neck—I didn’t believe in ghosts, but there was something almost otherworldly about the woman who stood and began to approach me.
And then I blinked, and I could see that she wasn’t spectral at all; she was a regular, every-day human being—alive, as far as I could tell—who’d happened to take me by surprise.
When she stepped into the light, though, I suddenly realized there was nothing at all regular about her. She was freaking gorgeous, with long honey-colored hair and huge green eyes. She was tall and leggy, exactly the type that spelled disaster for me and my ability to resist a female.
Her full lips curved into a smile as she stopped a few feet away from me and slid her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.
“Oh.” Those bright eyes raked me up and down, and one fine eyebrow arched. “So you’re not puking.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Should I be?”
“I don’t know. But the way you kind of staggered out here and then braced yourself against the porch railing, I figured you were wasted and about to toss your cookies.” She shrugged. “After what I saw inside, that wouldn’t have been surprising.”
“Agreed.” I nodded. “No, it wasn’t booze. It was the noise—I felt like my head was going to vibrate for the rest of my life. When I got away from it, I was a little dizzy.”
“I totally get you. It was giving me a killer headache, too. I love music, but what they’re playing in there barely qualifies.” She snorted softly. “And now I sound like an old lady who’s pissed the neighbors are having a party. All I need is a cane to shake at them as I rant and rave aboutthose damn young whippersnappers.”
I couldn’t help a chuckle. “If that’s you, then I’m sitting in the rocking chair next to you, smacking my lips and complaining that in my day, we didn’t need pills and powder to have a good time.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “I love beer, and I’ve been known to get a little wasted on wine when I’m hanging out with my girlfriends. But I’ve never been a big fan of that out-of-control feeling you get on chemical substances.”
“We’re a good match, then,” I agreed. “I just watched someone I’ve known since elementary school go off with two guys who brought, uh, party favors. Maybe letting her go with them makes me a shitty friend. But I’m not going to change her mind, and I don’t want to stay to watch her make a fool out of herself.”
“I totally understand that.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Are you from around here, then?”
“Yes. Ah, no. I mean . . .” I swallowed. “I used to be. Not anymore. Not for a while.”
“Oh. Okay.” She tilted her head, taking me in. “Me, neither. Or maybe . . . me, too. I didn’t grow up in this area, but I went to school nearby. For a while. But not anymore. I was tired of being on campus, so I applied to finish school overseas.” She lifted one shoulder. “Sorry, that doesn’t matter, I guess. I tend to ramble sometimes.”
I smirked. “The point is, though, that it seems like we’ve both chosennotto be from here, huh?”
