The Rebel of Raleigh High (Raleigh Rebels #1) - Callie Hart Page 0,90

like a leaf as he leans down and presses his mouth to mine. I’ve daydreamed this moment enough times that I thought I knew what it would feel like to kiss Jacob Weaving. This is a little rougher than I’d pictured, a little more brash and hungry than the slow, intense burn I had in mind, but still, I’m practically crowing with delight as he pushes his tongue past my teeth and plunges it into my mouth.

God, is Halliday seeing this? Zen? Ideally, I’d prefer if Kacey isn’t standing by, observing my first kiss with Jake. There’s clearly something weird going on with her tonight, and I don’t want the moment ruined by another of her salty barbs. One of the other girls, though. Be good if they could tell me later if I looked calm and confident as I wrap one hand around the back of Jake’s neck, and I pull him down to kiss me harder.

Jake’s eyes are half-lowered and hungry when he straightens, and a thrill races up my spine. I can’t believe that just happened. I can’t believe he just fucking kissed me. My lips feel swollen, a little raw from the stubble he’s rocking. Jake slowly presses his index finger to my mouth, rubbing it along my bottom lip. “So pretty, Silver. You’re so damn pretty. Come on, let’s go.”

He takes the martini glass and sets it down on the island, leaving it behind as he drags me toward the stairs. He seems filled with urgency, keen to hurry away from the noise and the crowd of the party. Halfway up the stairs, urging me ahead of him, he places his hand on the bare skin of my back, brushing my hair out of the way, and places a kiss on top of my shoulder.

I’ve never been up to the third floor of Leon’s house—it’s the only area of the sprawling, breathtakingly designed mansion that’s out of bounds. I have no idea what to expect as Jake guides me down a long hallway with architectural plans pinned to the walls, and strange, small Japanese-looking knickknacks arranged neatly on the shelves. This is Mr. Wickman’s domain. I’ve never met him, but from what I’ve heard over the years, Leon’s mother’s death changed the man. Made him a little unhinged. I see no sign of madness here, as I walk along the hallways, past meticulously tidy rooms with open doors. The reading nook we pass looks so inviting that I could easily pull a book from the imposing shelves to sit and read for a while, despite the churning pulse at my throat.

“There. On the end, see,” Jacob whispers against my shoulder. “Terry’s bathroom’s insane. You’re gonna freak out when you see it.”

I'm feeling a little silly. A little giddy. My brain isn't focusing properly. The world's started to feel a little…spongy. “Does it have a sunken bath? I’ve always wanted to try one of those.” My voice hardly sounds like my own.

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. We can try everything. Would you like that?”

I nod, and my brain feels like it’s bouncing around the inside of my skull. The edges of my vision seem to be softer than it should; everything’s a little muzzy, but I feel good. Really good. Jake ushers me into the bathroom, and I falter when I see that Sam and Cillian are already there, leaning against a huge slate grey counter, stocked with fancy looking little bottles of soaps and shampoos, along with a mountain of hand towels, rolled up, like you see in hotel spas. They look like little burritos, which, for some reason, makes me laugh.

I still don’t like the fact that Cillian and Sam are here, though. Especially Sam. “I thought we were going to be alone,” I whisper to Jake. I can’t have whispered as quietly as I’d hoped; the other guys must hear me because they share this look, smiles curling up the corners of their mouths, their eyes narrowed into half crescents, and I try to take a step back toward the door.

“Hey, hey, easy. Easy. It’s okay. We just came up here to have some fun, right, boys? You want to have some fun with us, don’t you, Silver? I thought you liked to party.” Jake’s hand on my arm feels comforting. His voice is soothing. But when I look up into his eyes, they look the same as Sam and Cillian’s eyes—primed, shining and excited. A cold jolt fires like a piston up my