ANOTHER FUCKING PARTY.
I’m so sick of this shit. If there’s one thing I won’t miss it’s the drunk, self-indulgent idiots getting high and fucking anything with a hole. Not that I don’t like fucking, but I have some standards . . .
I reach for a bottle of Grey Goose on the counter and search for a spot where I can be alone and drown out the noise these children are making.
Why the hell am I here again?
Oh, yes. Dylan. It’s his last party before he starts law school. Unlike him, I’m over this college shit, but he insisted on one last rager. Normally, I wouldn’t have bothered, but the guilt he laid on was even too thick for me to say no to.
I’m too old for this crap.
My real life starts on Monday. After four years of college, my head stuck in the books trying to get my shit together, I finally have a degree to show for it. I’m ready for the next stage, but I still have a few more days before this new phase of my life starts, so I guess there’s no harm in one more night of oblivion. But unlike these people, I would prefer to spend it alone.
Looking from right to left, it’s apparent there is no place for me to hide. Then, from the corner of my eye, I spot the door to the beach. There. That’s where I’ll find peace. Everyone is too busy getting drunk inside to be out there. It’s the perfect place. With a deep breath, I stroll toward the sliding door, and on the way grab a blanket lying across the back of the couch. Might need that. Over the loud thumping music there’s no creaking noise when I pull the glass door open, but as I step outside and close it behind me, the sound echoes against the new silence of the night. The summer heat slaps my face as I search for a secluded area on the deck. Then, I notice the path leading down to the water.
Bingo.
With every step I take, the party becomes a distant hum, but when I finally reach the sand, I see I’m not alone. A little way down the beach, sitting where the sand almost meets the water is a girl. I only catch glimpses of her face from this angle, but each time her light hair is rustled by the wind, the exposed skin on the back of her neck peeks out. She’s beautiful. Even though my view is obstructed by the distance and angle, it doesn’t take much to realize that she is breathtaking. Ethereal . . . like a goddess. I stare at her some more and find that although I came here to be alone, I no longer want to be. The fact she’s here has me welcoming the company, or more like her company. I lift the bottle to my mouth and take a long swig.
This should be interesting.
BURYING MY HANDS DEEP IN the cool, coarse sand that’s still pulpy from the retreating tide, I recline and shut my eyes. Other than the ocean, the beach is silent. I’m not sure how long I sit here, but eventually my shoulders uncoil and the corded muscles loosen from my earlier tension.
“Not in the mood to party?”
I jump at the sound.
He chuckles. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I peer up at the stranger interrupting my solitude. My breath catches in my throat. His stance is confident, and he has an air about him that sends a chill down my spine. The glare of the moon shimmers in his eyes. They appear dark and ominous. A burning, faraway look reflects back at me. A look I know too well. I see it in the mirror every day when I don’t want to be home; when I don’t want to be alone. He stares back in waiting silence, then inclines his head as he continues to assess me. It’s as if he feels my pain and matches it. Maybe, just maybe, he understands me.
But how could he? He doesn’t know me, or anything about me.
The thought of him being like me, feeling like me, sets my skin on fire from embarrassment and elates me at the same time. It makes no sense to feel these two emotions together, but nonetheless, a heat spreads across my cheeks and down to my collarbone. His eyes glisten as the moonlight continues to reflect off them, reminding me of a night at sea. His gaze sweeps down and then lingers, undressing me with his eyes and searching within my soul for my secrets.
He’s beautiful.
Devastatingly beautiful.
A gust of wind whips around us, and his untamable brown locks become even more unruly as they drift across his brows. All thoughts of anything but running my fingers through his tousled hair fade away. I chastise myself for my thoughts. I shouldn’t even be considering hooking up with someone when my boyfriend just cheated on me.
Thank God we’re cloaked in darkness because the black night hides my blush. I have never been so attracted to anyone in my life. Maybe it’s that I’m vulnerable after what Matt did to me, but staring at him has my pulse beating erratically.
He smiles, and I can’t pull my gaze away. It’s as if my world is on pause.