Kiss and Break Up - Ella Fields Page 0,9

we’d found in the upstairs living room.

That was, until we went to the bathroom and found a bunch of guys inside smoking pot.

“Dash?”

A slow grin shaped his lips, and he flicked ash from his blunt into the sink he was sitting next to. “Freckles.”

Heat infused my cheeks. “Don’t call me that.”

“Embarrassed?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes as Daphne pushed the door open, then walked right over to Lars. She plucked the blunt from between his lips and stuck it between hers.

I turned to leave. I couldn’t believe he was here.

“Aw.” I heard his boots thud to the tiles. “Not happy to see me? What am I, your dirty little secret?”

“I don’t care. You can do what you want.” I just hoped he’d leave me alone to do the same. I grabbed Willa, who was looking around the confined space as if she was trying to find something. Probably alcohol, I mused. “Let’s go.”

“Not so fast, Cotton Candy,” Lars said when Daphne turned to leave with the remains of his joint. “You owe me.”

Daphne opened her purse, fished out a twenty, and tossed it at his feet.

Lars blinked down at it, then at her, tilting his head. “I don’t need your money.”

“And I don’t need to be nicknamed after a pointless sweet.”

“You’re still mad?”

Mad? I looked back and forth between them.

“Mad would require me to actually care about you, and I don’t, so …” She tipped a shoulder, her coral, fluttery dress skimming her tanned thighs as she left him sitting there, scowling after her.

Willa turned to me. “I’m so lost right now.”

“Me too.” I sighed, then pulled Willa with me outside, thankful for the clean air in the hallway. Screw Dash. I should’ve known he’d show up anywhere there was booze, pot, and willing girls. I looked around, wondering where Byron was, and if he was looking for me.

We tried to find Daphne but that proved impossible. The bass thudded harder, and the rooms filled up so much, I figured half the town had to be here.

We got another drink and stood in the hall, people watching as couples drifted off, searching for privacy, and others outright groped each other where they stood or sat.

Dennis Bradley, who I had three classes with last year, strode by, and I moved my hand to wave, but it fell as he stumbled to a huge ceramic vase and threw his head inside, puking.

Willa and I both looked at him, then at what remained of our drinks. Taking stock of our lightheadedness, we ditched them and wandered away before the area started to smell.

A hand grabbed mine outside the kitchen, and I got ready to growl at Dash until I realized it wasn’t him. It was Byron.

A very drunk, very smiley Byron. “Hey, been looking all over for you.”

I smiled back, nodding at Willa when she gestured that she’d be hanging in the kitchen. “You have?”

He took a swig of beer, his head bobbing. “Oh, yeah. Wild party, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, hardly hearing myself over the music. I was getting tired of half-shouting. “Wild.”

As if he could sense it, he pulled me toward the glass windows and doors that overlooked the bay beyond Wade’s house. I let him, knowing I was safe when I saw shadows of partygoers out by the Olympic-sized pool.

There were no seats available on the deck or around the pool, so we ventured down the lawn to the bay. Not wanting to get sand in my boots, I took a seat on the small grassy edge that divided Wade’s property from the sand, and after finishing his beer and tossing the bottle toward the water, Byron did the same.

“Pretty loud in there, huh?”

He reeked of beer as he leaned back on his hands while stretching out his long legs. “Sure is. You get used to it after a while.”

I tried not to let his comment irritate me, but it kind of did. “At least the weather is nice.” The weather? Someone slap me.

“Yeah, it’s nice out, and now I can see you better. You look great,” he said, leaning a little closer. “You’ve always been this cute thing, waltzing around school in your black boots instead of heels or those ballet things, like the rest of them.”

“Oh, thanks.” Cute. He thought I was cute.

“Yeah, but now?” He reached out, startling me as he grabbed a strand of my hair. “You’re like this sexy minx.”

“Minx?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

He chuckled. “My ability to flirt is severely hindered right now.