just drank her fourth. She needed to slow down. “Do you know where the bathroom is?” Standing up to head in the direction Zeke might point out, Grace scanned the room again.
“If you go back through the kitchen, then down the hallway, it’s the first door on the right.” He stood and leaned down in order to talk in her ear. “Or,” he continued, “you can use the bathroom upstairs. That may be easier to get to.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Handing Zeke her empty cup, she headed in the direction of the stairs.
“Good luck. I’ll be right here,” he said with an impish grin.
Good luck was an understatement. She made her way through the tightly packed room, fighting elbows and unintentional shoves as the partygoers danced about her, all while trying to keep her hands from steadying herself against the moving bodies. The constant motion and cumulative effect of the beer she’d downed suddenly made her wonder if the floor was moving. When she finally made it to the staircase, Grace paused. With a sigh, she peered up the stairs, then contemplated not even going there, especially if they were moving like the floor. Girls were scattered like Legos all up and down the stairs. She decided to go for it. “Excuse me … excuse me … pardon me.” She ended up throwing elbows back, putting her shoulder in it, and tried to hide her annoyance with forced politeness. She bounced from side-to-side like a pinball all the way up the stairs, then was surprised when she made it to the top. Pausing for a second, she tried to remember which door Zeke had said was the bathroom.
“If you’re looking for the bathroom, it’s the door at the end of the hall on the right,” someone volunteered, a guy who was standing against the banister talking to some girl. Grace didn’t know either of them and assumed they were friends with Brian’s brother.
“Thanks.” She focused on her feet as she tried walking a straight line to the last door on the right.
After locking the door, she rested her back against it. A few minutes later, she was able to push herself away. She went to the bathroom and washed her hands. The cool water felt good. She shook them off, touching her wet fingers to the front and back of her neck, hoping the coolness would sober her some. With cupped hands under the faucet, she took a couple of sips and headed back to the party.
The staircase would require walking slowly. Grace looked over the crowd of heads that rolled like waves of an ocean to the rhythm of the music. Impressive sight, she decided, taking one careful step at a time. So many individuals moving as one with like-minded rhythm—only a few with an apparent inability to follow. Her gaze still roamed over the rolling crowd when an unmoving body caught her attention. He was showing up everywhere, and despite her inner warnings of why she should steer clear, she found herself smiling from ear to ear. And promptly blamed it on the beer.
Darius held up a red cup, extending a couple of fingers in a wave. Grace gave him a slight wave back. He was standing next to a guy she didn’t know, probably another friend of Brian’s brother. She watched as Darius said something to him before moving through the swarm of bodies.
At the bottom of the stairs, she chastised herself for being buzzed as she watched him come toward her. But then again, she was kind of glad. She couldn’t relax around this guy. Maybe the two beers would help.
Once her eyes met his, she forgot what her issue was. She was caught in the Venus flytrap of his green, come-hither eyes. The closer he got, the more her chest constricted so tight she almost couldn’t breathe. As he approached, a knowing smile took over his face; she was hooked and he knew it. A sharp and spicy scent enveloped Grace when Darius reached her. He was all around her, overpowering all her senses. “Hi.”
“Um … hi,” she said nervously.
He chuckled at her uneasiness. Just like the magical laughter of her dreams, it bounced around her. “Are you having a good time?” Darius asked.
She tried pushing past the fog, and focused on her words. “Yeah, you?” That was good, she didn’t sound like an idiot. At least, she didn’t think she did.
His gaze was intense, almost hypnotic, and didn’t waver from hers. “I am