me? And did you ever try the pot chocolates I made?” He pauses and raises both brows.
My cheeks flush, and I bite my bottom lip.
“I gave them to my dad because … I read some stuff about marijuana and cancer, and …” Zayd grins and sets the guitar aside.
“Hey, Charity, you don’t have to explain, okay? I made those chocolates for you. I’m glad you were able to give them to your dad.” Zayd stands up and moves over to this gorgeous dresser that I know must’ve cost a fortune; it’s all shiny and shellacked and modern looking. It doesn’t quite titillate my architectural senses the way old things do, but it’s beautiful nonetheless. “I’ve got some pre-rolls though?” he says, holding up a plastic tube.
He hands it over to me, and I turn it in a circle. Ah. Right. A pre-roll is literally a marijuana joint that’s been rolled by the dispensary, and purchased ready to smoke. Charlie gets these all the time; smoking pot is supposed to help with the tumors in his lungs.
My heart clenches tight, and I feel this sudden rush of guilt for being here when I should be at home with my dad.
“Marnye,” Zayd says, taking the tube gently from my fingers. He tucks it into his pocket and then puts his hands on my shoulders, gripping them tightly and looking into my eyes. “You can’t feel guilt for living your life and being a teenager. Your dad doesn’t want you to sit at home and pine over him. If he did, he wouldn’t have told you to go. I might not know the guy very well, but the way he told us all off that day in your room … I get the idea that he isn’t a man who lies and bullshits.”
I laugh, but it’s a bit teary.
“No, you’re right. Charlie is a man of few words, but the ones he says, he means.”
“Two nights here, and I’ll take you right back. Then I’m gonna chill at my dad’s place in Cruz Bay until school starts. I’m not leaving your side, okay?” Zayd leans in and kisses me before I can respond, the sensation sweeping down from my lips and all the way to my toes. He pulls back and grins. “Let’s party tonight, rock out tomorrow, and worry about life the next day. What do you say?”
Music throbs from beneath our feet, and I look down before turning my gaze back to Zayd’s.
“Party?” I ask, because I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.
“Of course,” Zayd says, standing back up and gyrating his body in time to the hip-hop music that’s being blasted downstairs. He gets in close and grabs me, encouraging me to move in time with him. He’s a seriously freaking talented dancer. “What would an Afterglow concert be without a proper pre and after-party?”
We dance for a minute, and I let Zayd twirl me in a circle before he pulls me close again. It’s … maybe less like dancing and more like sex there for a minute. Our pelvises gyrate together, and my body begins to throb. Now that I’m not a virgin anymore, it’s like my body’s been awoken to the pleasures of sex and can’t be put back to sleep.
“That’s it. I’m taking you downstairs and showing you off.” Zayd grabs my hand and drags me out of his wing and into a suddenly bustling mansion. He moves up to the edge of the banister and throws his arms up. “Welcome partygoers!” he shouts, and his million dollar voice cuts through the hubbub of the ever-growing crowd; it’s almost wall-to-wall people already and they just keep streaming in the door. “Booze and smokes in the lounge, snacks in the kitchen, and clothes optional in the pool!”
He turns back around as I raise my brows and Miranda comes up the stairs with her suitcase.
“Did you pack any party dresses?” she asks me, voice barely audible over the noise.
“Um, what do you take me for?” I reply, feeling my heartbeat pick up speed. “I didn’t exactly expect a party tonight, but I knew there’d be one tomorrow. Let’s go.”
“Don’t take too long, babe,” Zayd says, turning and hopping up on the banister in a way that seriously concerns me. But then, I figure this is his house and he’s probably done this before. I refuse to be a wet blanket, no fucking way. If I’m going to be one of the Idols of Burberry Prep, the Bitch of the