on my back. “It’s okay, little baby. Auntie Lane will help you play in the dark side.”
I smacked her hand away playfully, just as a bang sounded on the glass.
It was a euphoric looking Landry, adorably sweaty and mussed from his game. “We did it,” he yelled, and Lane and I whooped and hollered as expected. “See you in a few hours at the party?” he asked as one of his teammates skated to him and began to pull on his jersey to get him back with the still celebrating team.
Just like every time the party was mentioned, a wave of unease flickered around in my gut. But I smiled and gave him a thumbs up, watching nervously as he skated away.
“We’ll have fun tonight. Just you wait!” Lane announced excitedly as she began to pull me towards the stairs.
I cast one last look back behind me, my gaze catching on a hungry-looking Jackson. Always looking at me.
But so was Caiden.
7
The party was in full swing as we made our way through the giant double doors of the hockey fraternity. We were about an hour later than planned, thanks to Lane begging to do my hair and makeup, and everyone looked like they were already plastered.
I saw some members of the football team as we passed through the front room, and I elbowed Lane. “The football team’s here!”
She looked at me like I was an idiot. “Babe, everyone’s here. Good thing you look fucking hot.”
I could admit that she was right. I did look “fucking hot.”
Lane had curled my long blonde hair into beach waves, and I had a white bandage dress on that molded to my every curve. I was on the lookout for Melanie to appear from a dark corner and throw a cup of red punch all over it. Because it looked damn good.
Lane had applied a shimmering gold eyeshadow to my eyelids and lined my eyes with kohl black eyeliner and three coats of mascara, accentuating the green of them. She’d had a goal to have all eyes on her and I tonight, and judging by the looks we were getting…she had succeeded.
Lane looked gorgeous. She was wearing a bubblegum pink halter top that showed off her toned stomach and a black mini skirt. Her pink-streaked hair was up in a sexy, mussed up high pony that accentuated her long neck. Sky high black heels completed the look.
When I’d first met Lane, I’d never thought she’d be caught dead in such an outfit, but I had quickly learned that Lane was a rebel without a cause. She didn’t stick to any of the prescribed social boundaries that anyone else deigned to place her in. I loved it.
“There’s Landry,” she said pointing to a group of hockey players playing flip cup. There were at least fifteen gorgeous girls vying for their attention, and it really said something for my current feelings when I was disappointed that Landry was acting like they didn’t exist.
I went to make my way over to him, but Lane stopped me. “Let’s go dance for a while. Eventually, Tony and Landry will hear about the hot girls making waves on the dance floor and figure out that it’s us,” she said with a wink before dragging me down the basement steps to where a DJ was cranking out Top 40 hits for the crowd of sweaty, writhing college students paying homage to him on the dance floor.
Lane began to dance around me to her own beat…as was her way. I began to move my hips, awkwardly at first and then more smoothly as I let the beat of the Chainsmokers’ song carry me. Guys tried to step into our circle and get up on us, but we politely pushed them away. Lane procured drinks for us out of seemingly thin air, and we quickly got buzzed on cheap vodka punch and thumping beats.
I was lost in the moment when Jackson appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his gaze gliding around the room as if he was looking for me.
“Heartbreak prince on aisle two,” Lane announced rather loudly as she shimmied to the Rihanna song that just started.
I shh’d her, a little too buzzed to really care about her loudness though.
And then he was there, his hands caressing my sides possessively as his hard chest and stomach pressed against me, pinning me to him. He bent forward, allowing our hips to align perfectly, and a low moan hissed out of my lips as