I Have Lived and I Have Loved - Willow Winters Page 0,28

entire first floor was crowded. The guys were still in Ryan’s room, so I looked around, seeing Peach’s door open.

Sorry, Peach, but I’m about to use your shit.

I ducked in. After dressing, I went to her bathroom. She could sue me; I didn’t give a rat’s ass. I used some of her stuff, putting product in my hair, and I went through her makeup too.

We were going to a college party. I had to look the part.

When I finished, I’d aged five years. Heavy eyeliner and eye shadow helped the image.

I pulled on a pair of jean shorts, and I undid one button to shimmy them down an inch on my hips. There. That completed the look.

Ryan and his friends were at the front door, and when Ryan caught sight of me, his eyes rounded, darkening.

“Whoa.” Pete actually took a step toward me. “You’re fucking hot, Mackenzie.”

Nick snorted and hit him in the arm. “Real smooth, Peepee.”

“Shut up—and what?” Pete gestured to me. “She is.”

“You have to say it in a nice way, a way that doesn’t make us think you’re creeping on Ryan’s girl.”

Pete looked from Ryan to me, his brows furrowing. “Um . . .”

Ryan only raised an eyebrow; his lips remained shut.

Pete’s face reddened, and he coughed. “Mackenzie, you are—”

I snorted, waving at him. “Please stop. We all look good. Let’s leave it at that.”

A satisfied smile settled on his face.

I looked at Nick and narrowed my eyes. “You, on the other hand . . .” He called me Ryan’s girl. I should correct him, but after a quick glance at Ryan, I didn’t want to. He was staring steadily at me, his eyes heated.

Yep. He was totally affecting me, and I coughed. “Are we ready?”

The guys took off out the front door.

Ryan held back till they were gone. Without saying a word, he took my hand. He threaded our fingers together as we headed after them, and I tried to ignore the little flutter in my chest.

Chapter Eleven

Red Solo cup in hand, rap music blaring, slight buzz started—I was there. And we’d been embraced as if none of us were losers. Hell yeah. We’d turned down a high school party to be at a college one.

I was damn right succeeding in life.

Willow would’ve been fucking green with jealousy.

A mean streak raced through my insides, causing my stomach to twist around. I raised my cup, looking at the sky from where I stood in some college dumbass’ backyard.

You up there, Wills? Or are you right next to me?

I hated her. She wasn’t supposed to be either of those places. She was supposed to be there, not me. She was supposed to be yelling at our parents, telling them they couldn’t send Robbie away. She was supposed to be stressing about school, making sure I got my locker number, and only she knew what else. I had no fucking clue.

It was Saturday night. I had one more day, and then I was going to the new school—just me. It wasn’t supposed to be just me.

She was my partner in crime. No matter how much she pissed me off, made my blood boil, annoyed the crap out of me, she was my other half.

“You okay?”

I didn’t know the girl who spoke to me, and maybe that was why I was honest. “I’m going crazy.”

She’d been passing by, empty cup in hand, but did a double take.

I waved her on, a nice fake smile on my face. “I’m good. You?”

“Oh.” Her head tilted to the side. I could’ve been a green alien, and she would’ve looked at me the same way. “Okay. Good then.” She edged away.

Run, little girl. Run from the crazy, pissed-off psycho drunk.

No, scratch that. I was the crazy, pissed-off psycho buzzed chick. The little buzz I’d had before faded on the drive there. I was playing catch-up. Two more beers, and I’d be in the drunk stage. And that was something I needed to address.

I swung around, looking to follow that girl, but Ryan was there. He grabbed my arms as I walked into him, and he took away my cup.

“No.” He tossed it to the side, turned me around, and began walking me away from the beer.

I pointed behind us. “I have to go that way.”

He shook his head, still walking behind me. “We’re going this way, away from the keg.”

I pointed again. “But the keg is that way.”

“Exactly.”

“I want to go toward the keg.”

“I don’t.”

I dug in my feet and crossed my arms over