Man of My Dreams (23 page)

I look over my shoulder to check on Grace, she’s staring into space, or at the rowdiness taking place in the pool. She’s okay. Then I focus in the direction of Chelsea’s long, painted finger.

Wow! Who’s that?
“Wow! Who’s that?”

“He’s a friend of Kate’s, my sister. He goes to college with her. He’s really nice...really cute, right?”

“Um, yeah.” It’s hard not to stare.

“While you were deciding about Craig, I saw him eyeing you. Want me to take you over and introduce you?”

Do I?
Do I ever! Why not? Where’s the harm in talking to a hot, older guy? Considering all the temptation here tonight, chatting it up with a college student seems like the lesser of all the evils.

His name is Jake. He’s studying Anthropology and right now I’m studying his luscious lips. I’ve taken a few sips of the beer that’s starting to get too warm, just to quench my thirst and keep my tongue from getting dry. Occasionally, I look back at Grace to make sure she’s still there. Yup, still there, glowering. What a wet blanket! I wonder if Jake has a friend.

“You have really pretty eyes, Mia. I can hardly see them out here in the dark, though. Can I take you inside? You look kind of cold.”

His eyes drop down to my chest and he grins. I guess my body has spoken and he’s not shy in taking notice.

I cross my arms, not too abruptly, to cover my double-crossing double-Ds and Jake puts his arm around me. I guess we’re going inside. I glance over to Grace to let her know I’m changing scenery, but I see she’s made a friend. Good for her. Maybe now she’ll have a good time and not feel like she has to babysit me.

When we get inside, Jake finds an open spot on the stairs leading up to what I guess are the bedrooms. He pats the carpeted step next to him, and I comply by taking a seat.

“I was right,” he says, getting closer, “you do have beautiful eyes.”

My eyes are brown. I guess they’re nice, but I’d always wished they were blue or green or even grey. But Jake doesn’t seem to mind the plain, chocolate hue.

“Thank you,” I say looking down at my hands.

His finger grazes my jawline, landing right under my chin. He tilts my head up, and I clench my legs together. The tumbling in my stomach is creeping between my thighs. This so beats banging noses with Billy Denks.

Before I can even close my eyes in preparation for it, his lips are on mine. He forces my mouth open with his stiff tongue, and then invades it with in and out motions. His method reminds me of something serpentine, but I can’t lie and say it isn’t doing crazy things to my insides.

I give in to the fanatical heat rising within and lean in closer, letting him take me along on our lip-locked journey. It’s amazing what a tongue can do. How many ways it can move; tangling, swirling, licking, lapping. How the one tiny muscle in your body can take control over all the others.

My back is against the wall of the stairway, Jake’s fingers are curled into the loops of my jeans. I am basically backed in a corner, but I don’t feel as if I’m here against my will. I’m enjoying this. It’s about time...it took sixteen years to feel this good.

Jake stops kissing me. Panting, he stares at me with dark dilated eyes and a swollen mouth.
How long have we been at it? Do my lips wear the same evidence of our not so innocent behavior?

He stands up, hanging an open hand in front of me. I can’t help but notice something shifting in his jeans. To think that I had the power to do that to a college boy...I can’t imagine my inexperienced kissing is that potent.

“Come with me, Mia?”

There’s a voice in my head telling me not to. That same voice convinced me not to smoke the alluring pot or to get drunk on the frothy beer. The thumping of my heart and the throbbing of my groin trumps the nagging voice. What’s the harm in going up there? I’d be happy to continue this without an audience anyway.

I extend my hand, grabbing onto his and accepting his invitation.

He pulls me up the steps and I nearly trip from the speed at which we’re traveling. But underneath my clumsiness I’m as excited as he is to get behind a closed door and continue our make-out session.

We stumble into an empty room. Chelsea’s? Or maybe Kate’s? I feel funny staking claim in either. Like an unwelcome guest, snooping on their private world. The walls are painted a pretty, delicate lavender, the carpet a patterned, plush cream. The wall above the bed is decorated with pretty paper butterflies, varied in size. Everything in its place and a place for everything. It’s immaculate, comforting, serene.

Jake sweeps a few stuffed animals off the foot of the bed then pulls me down to sit next to him. He hasn’t said a word to me since he told me about my eyes. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe the talking will make it awkward. He dips down and kisses the hollow divot above my collar bone, sending shivers up and down my spine.
I’ve never been kissed there.

With his lips distracting me, his hands spread along the exposed skin of my stomach. His fingers splay across my skin, creeping their way into the waistline of my jeans.
I’ve never been touched there.

My breath catches when he brings his lips up to my ear. The warmth of his mouth and the tingling all over causing me to gasp.

“Is this okay, Mia?”

I’m not sure it is. I don’t exactly want him to stop, but I don’t exactly want it to go much further. “Um...yes, but...can we just go back to kissing again?”

Jake removes his hand from my now unbuttoned jeans, bringing it up to caress my hair. He laughs before he kisses me again. I wonder what’s so funny, but I’m not left wondering too long. This time his kiss is more forceful, more urgent. Before I can think, I am flat on my back, on Chelsea’s or Kate’s bed, with Jake hovering over me.

His hand travels up my leg, causing me to stiffen. It doesn’t stop his tongue from making a path from my ear down to the neckline of my t-shirt. In one swift movement, his hands are tugging at the hem of the shirt, lifting it to expose my lacey pink, push-up bra and my mature helping of breasts. Maybe they led him to believe I’m older, that this is what I want. But if flaunting what I’ve been given means winding up underneath every guy who gets the chance to kiss me, I might have to start rethinking my wardrobe choices. The wardrobe choice that is now crumpled in a ball on the bedroom floor.

“Jake, please, can we slow down?”

He lifts his face that’s buried in my heaving cleavage. After a heavy sigh and a mumble of something under his breath, he rolls off of me.

I feel vulnerable, lying here half naked and, all of a sudden, half drunk. I guess I’d done a little more than sip that beer. I sit up, searching for my shirt. I locate it, crumpled in the corner of the dimly lit bedroom.

Jake hasn’t said a word. Am I at fault? Did I lead him on? Do I deserve this overwhelming feeling of shame? I decide to apologize. Maybe he’ll be less angry once I explain myself. “Jake, I’m sorry. I didn’t...I’m not...”

“Sorry for what? For being a tease? You’re going to make quite a name for yourself on campus if you keep blue-balling guys like this.” He glares at me as I put my shirt back over my head. The incredulous weightiness of his stare frightens me.

“I’m not in college. I’m a sophomore at Westmont. I thought you knew that.”

His dark expression becomes luminous, big and bright with this surprising knowledge. “How old are you, Mia?”

“Sixteen.” I keep my head down, examining the intricate pattern in the carpet.

“Sixteen? You’re only fucking sixteen. Oh my God, I’m sorry. I have to get out of here.” He straightens himself, walking towards the door.” He turns around, raking his fingers through his messy hair. “A word of advice, little girl. Watch yourself. You look a lot older than you think and the way you kiss...oh my God, sixteen? Goodbye, Mia.” He walks out the bedroom door, slamming it shut.

I sink down into the bed, covering my face, fighting the tears that prick the corners of my eyes. Through the spaces in my fingers I notice the cup of beer on the nightstand. I grab it and guzzle down the remains of the now stagnant liquid.

I’m mortified. This is so embarrassing. How am I supposed to rejoin the party as if nothing’s happened? People had to see me go upstairs with him; had to see him run down the steps without me. I will be the laughing stock of every school in town.

So much for social acceptance!

My vision starts to feel a bit fuzzy, my brain mushing things together. I’m still very aware of what just happened, but I don’t think I can handle walking out of the room, down the steps and out into the backyard to Grace. If I lie down and close my eyes for two minutes maybe it will go away.

Please let it all go away.

Someone is slapping my face, shaking my shoulders. When I open my eyes, it’s definitely not voluntary. And that someone is my father!

“Dad? What...what are you doing here?”

Grace and a few men in uniform stand behind him stoically.

“Mia, are you alright? Did someone drug you? Put something in your drink? Please, Mia, tell me
nothing
happened here!” My father is frantic. I’ve never seen him like this. Okay, maybe once, when I got lost in the supermarket and he couldn’t find me for ten minutes.

“Dad. I’m fine. Really.” I don’t know how much to admit to him. I’m sure I’m grounded until the millennium, but I don’t want to add insult to injury.

I look into his eyes, sensing the agonizing worry. He’s thinking the worst—that I was taken advantage of, molested, raped. I can’t let him think that, not even for one more second.

“Daddy, I drank the beer and got myself drunk. It’s no one’s fault but my own.” I leave out the part about Jake. There’s no need to involve him. He did the right thing by walking out. He took no for an answer. He’s a prince compared to what another guy might have done.

My dad turns to the officers and Grace. “I’m taking her home. You too, Grace. Please let me know if there is any paperwork she needs to fill out or anything verbal you need to hear from her. But just let me get her home, where she’s safe.”

The officers nod, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. “If anything comes up, just give me or my partner a call.”

“Of course and thank you.” My dad says before hooking arms with me and walking me downstairs.

Grace follows, biting her nails.

I know she’s the reason my father’s here. The reason this house party was raided. Forget laughing stock, I’ll be blacklisted from every single party from here on out. No one likes a rat.

When we get in the car, I speak to my dad, only. “Daddy, I’m sorry. I..”

“Don’t, Mia. Don’t even bother. I’m so happy you’re safe and in one piece, but you are grounded until further notice. Take a good look at Grace because you won’t be seeing her for a while.”

I do take a long, hard look at my best friend. My best friend who betrayed me, tattled on me, threw me under the bus. If she would have just confronted me instead of jumping to conclusions, none of this would be happening right now. No one at Chelsea’s would be in trouble, my dad wouldn’t be looking at me like some delinquent, and my best friend would still be my best friend rather than a snitch.

I turn my head to look out the window. I don’t have words to say to her right now. It’s a good thing I won’t be allowed to see her. I’m actually hoping my punishment includes no phone privileges. Giving her the silent treatment will be her punishment for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. When the hell will she stop thinking she knows what’s best for me?

“Mia?”

It’s light now. Morning. The room isn’t spinning anymore, but I still feel bound to the bed. I lift my head from the pillow and the throbbing makes me put it right back down.

“Mia? Are you up?”

“Grace?” What’s Grace doing here on the morning after...
Oh my God, did I sleep with Noah?

I jump up, ignoring the agony in my skull. I throw on a t-shirt and run down the stairs and into the kitchen. Grace is at my table holding a piece of paper, glaring at me.

“What the fuck, Mia. Have you lost your goddamn mind?”

“Did he leave? Did you throw him out?” I’m mortified. How could I have an affair and not even remember it? I am the lowest of low.