Keegan
The Halloween party is in full swing, and Megz is clearly loving it.
“Damn, KeeKee!” she shouts over the music. “I so did not have you living in a rockin’ party house on my college bingo card!”
She aims a drunken kiss at the side of my face, and the scratchy brim of her witch’s hat scrapes my temple.
“You’re waayy cooler than I thought,” she jokes.
I throw her an indulgent smile. Megz is always giving me shit about being so straightlaced. Sometimes it pisses me off. But right now, I’m too happy to care.
I shift my gaze back to the band, back to Blue. They’ve launched into the Rolling Stones number he was rehearsing last night.
I’d curled up on his bed, clutching his scratchy Army blanket against the chill the house’s crappy heating system couldn’t overcome. I watched him play the song over and over.
He kept trying different chord combinations, explaining that he wanted it to sound a little sadder, a “little more ragged”.
“A little more like a Frasier Bryson song,” I quipped, teasing him.
He laughed at that. Then he went back to reworking the tune.
Lying there, I let his gravelly voice flow over me.
Just watching his fingers stroke the guitar strings sent a surge of heat between my legs as I thought about what those skillful fingers would do to me later.
For the last month, Blue and I have spent almost all our free time together. I know his room now about as well as I know my own.
I know he keeps a stash of Reece’s pieces in the top of his closet so Max can’t get to them.
I know he has exactly two threadbare bath towels. At least one of them is invariably on the bathroom floor, on the verge of mildewing. I’ve been meaning to buy him a couple of new ones.
I also know he avoids looking at the framed photo on his battered desk. It’s of a pretty, dark-haired woman in a white dress and denim jacket. She’s holding a young Blue’s hand. He looks about seven years old in the photo.
“Is that your mom?” I asked the first time I spent the night in his room.
His eyes clouded over, and for an awful moment, I thought I’d somehow missed a crucial detail.
“Oh God,” I gasped, “did she. . .was she on the plane, too?”
“No, no. She’s fine,” Blue assured me, shifting his eyes away from the picture, his mouth in a tight line. “She lives in Tulsa.”
He’d quickly changed the subject after that. I’ve wanted ever since to ask what’s wrong between him and his mother. But I don’t want to see that haunted expression return to his face.
And I’m not sure he would tell me anyway. Blue seems to have so many secrets.
There’s a sadness about him, something deep down that connects with the same feeling inside me.
I’m always wondering if he feels it, too. I'm always a little worried that he does not.
The band segues into a different song, and the crowd in the living room shouts its approval.
Blue gives me a wide grin, his eyes shining. I can feel his energy, his passion for the music, his love of performing.
Megz is swaying to the sound, her puffy costume sleeve tickling my arm.
I’d told her about the Halloween party at the house; I’ve told her about all the parties.
But I did not expect her to show up this afternoon, bursting into my bedroom and throwing her arms around me.
I wasn’t even planning to spend much time at the party. I only wanted to listen to Blue play for a little while.
I hadn’t bothered with a costume. I’ve got a paper due in my European Civilization class and a lit test to study for.
But now it looks like I’ll be entertaining Megz, at least until tomorrow.
Not that I mind too much. I’ve missed my best friend. I’ve missed how good she is at getting me out of my own head.
“God, he is so fucking hot!” she yells in my ear, her eyes fixed on Blue. “Think he’d be interested in a threesome?”
Megz knows all about my relationship with Blue.
I’ve filled her in—mostly by text, with a bunch of suggestive emojis and way too many exclamation marks—on all the sex we’ve been having.
I haven’t told her, though, about the scars on his back. Or the nightmares that he has.
I haven’t told anyone about that.
I know she’s joking about the threesome. At least, I’m pretty sure she is.
But I must still look a bit shocked because Megz laughs and wiggles her tongue at me, then loops an arm around my neck and pulls me close.
“Just kidding, KeeKee.” Her beer-laced breath hits my cheek. “I know you’re not up for anything like that.”
I grit my teeth at her condescending tone.
Happy or not, I’m still sensitive about being labeled a Goody Two Shoes. Maybe because I know that I am one.
“Oh, come on, bestie,” Megz murmurs, running an affectionate thumb down my cheek, “you know I love you just as you are. We balance each other out. We always have. I’m the dark, and you’re the light.”
As usual, Megz knows exactly what I’m thinking.
I spot Hunter—dressed as a Viking with a fake sword and horned helmet—standing nearby. He’s looking my bestie up and down, brazenly showing his appreciation for her skin-tight costume.
“Hey, who’s your hot friend?” he yells at me, leaning across Megz and deliberately brushing her chest.
I shake my head, irritated by the lame, obnoxious move. It’s so Hunter.
But Megz doesn’t seem to mind. She’s smiling, giving him the flirty, come hither look I’ve seen her use on guys a zillion times before.
I consider warning her off Hunter. Truth be told, though, he’s not quite as bad as I thought when I first moved in. Occasionally, I’ve caught a glimpse underneath his party boy exterior. At least I think I have.
And Megz likes bold, brash, good-looking and hard living boys. Hunter totally fits the bill. Plus, I know she can handle him. I should probably be more worried about him than her. She's broken a lot of hearts.
I’ve just opened my mouth to introduce them when someone pokes me sharply in the side.
I turn to find Kendra glaring at me with the same hostile expression that’s been plastered on her face since I moved in. I am so over it.
She’s wearing this glimmery jumpsuit that plunges in front almost to her belly button. It shows off her lean, sinewy body. And she’s got on gold, glittery eyeshadow, with a bunch of gold and silver bracelets lining her arms.
No idea what she’s supposed to be. I’m sure as hell not going to ask.
“Some guy is out front and wants to talk to you,” Kendra snaps, hands on her hips.
“Huh?” The band has stopped playing for a moment, so I can hear her fine. I’m just surprised.
The band starts another song. Kendra’s eyes shift toward Blue, and I turn my head to look at him, too.
He’s staring at us with that uncomfortable expression he always gets when Kendra and I interact.
Her gaze snaps back to me. “I said, there’s some dude on the front porch who wants to speak to you.”
Now, she’s practically shouting at me. She rolls her eyes in disgust. “He won’t come inside.”
I twist around to look out the front windows, but there are too many people blocking my view.
I turn back to Kendra. “Who—”
She puts a hand up in front of my face. “I said I’d tell you and I have. Now I’ve got better things to do. I’m not your goddamn babysitter.”
She flounces away with the aggrieved air of someone who’s done a noble yet unappreciated deed.
I shrug at Blue and roll my eyes again.
Such a pain in the ass, I mouth.
He raises an eyebrow and then grins at me before focusing again on the music.
I lean toward Megz; she’s already chatting with Hunter. “I’ll be back in a minute,” I say in her ear.
Making my way through the crowd, I wonder who on earth could be waiting for me on the front porch.
My stomach lurches as my father’s face suddenly flashes before my eyes.
Could it be Dad out there? Would he just show up, wanting to check on me or something? Yeah, he might.
And he would not be happy to find me living in a raucous party house. I’d left out that bit of info.
Shit, shit, shit. Please don’t let it be my dad.
I’ve almost reached the door when it opens in a rush and a couple of clearly drunk guys stumble inside.
I maneuver around them and quickly scan what I can see of the porch. There are quite a few people hanging out, but I don’t see anyone I know.
Then I step through the door.
And from the far end of the porch, he turns to face me.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
