Next Man Up (Making the Score #2) - Tawdra Kandle Page 0,2
I’d gotten drunk, but the weight of their disappointment would be worse than anything they might take from me. I’d lived all of my life keenly aware of how lucky I was that I’d been raised by them. I didn’t want them to ever regret doing it.
A girl passing behind me bumped into my stool, and I gripped the edge of the granite countertop to keep from tumbling off my perch. She teetered on her feet and shot me a wide smile.
“Sorry,” she slurred before careening into a group standing near the refrigerator. It was one of those huge professional fridges I’d only seen on television, with extra wide doors and a gleaming stainless-steel finish. I had a moment of appliance envy; cooking was something I loved to do and to watch, but there was a huge chasm of difference between my grandmother’s old-fashioned and functional kitchen and the sleek modern ones I drooled over on the cooking network.
From what I could see of this kitchen, it was much closer to the TV versions. The granite countertops were expansive and the cherry wood cabinets plentiful. Above an enormous Aga stove hung a rack of spotless copper pots and pans. I wondered if they were just for show or if the woman who owned this house actually used them to prepared meals. Which reminded me— I’d never actually met the person who lived here. Becca had assured us that the guy who’d invited everyone was cool, with parents who looked the other way when he asked to have friends over. Still, I couldn’t imagine any adult being okay with all these kids here, unsupervised, consuming massive amounts of booze and God only knew what else. My conscious twinged.
“Okay, we’re all set.” Eli appeared back at my side, his grin wide and irresistible. He lifted his hand, showing off a two liter of cola and a fancier bottle I couldn’t identify, along with a couple of plastic cups. “Supplies have been procured.”
“Looks good.” I slid off the stool, and after the smallest hesitation, took the hand he offered me. “Where are we going?”
Eli winked at me over his shoulder. “Just to a room that isn’t so noisy. Hold on tight so I don’t lose you.”
I did as he suggested, noticing with a thrill that as we pushed our way through the crowded living room, he tightened his grip, as though he truly didn’t want to lose me. I was also more than a little aware of the way girls we passed stared at me, some with blatant hostility and others with amused expressions. I kept my gaze on Eli’s back, not making eye contact with anyone while we climbed the wide steps, but I felt my face burning, anyway.
The truth was that even as I assured myself that I was only going upstairs to talk to Eli Tucker, to get to know him better, I could hear my grandmother’s voice in my ear, reminding me of the rules. Those rules included not being alone with a boy who wasn’t related to me and not drinking alcohol when I was underage. But then again, I was pretty sure Grammy would also disapprove of her two granddaughters attending a party at a house where there were no adults in sight—and where, if I was being honest, it was likely the owners had no clue any of us were here. Grammy probably wouldn’t think much of the dress I was wearing, either.
But I wasn’t stupid. I knew what I was doing here. Nothing would happen—nothing that I didn’t want to happen. I’d enjoy talking to Eli, maybe have a tiny bit of the drink he was carrying, and then I’d go downstairs, find Hannah and Becca, and we’d go back to Becca’s house, where we could stay up all night, giggling over boys and eating junk food. Maybe—just maybe—I’d let Eli kiss me, and then I’d have even more to contribute to the girl talk later.
“I think this room’s empty.” Eli nudged open a door and peered into the darkness. “Yeah, no one’s in here.” With his shoulder, he flicked on the light. “After you.”
I stepped around him, hesitating just inside the doorway. The bedroom—because of course that was what it was—was pretty, with a muted floral comforter spread over the queen-sized bed, coordinating curtains on the windows and a plush throw rug over the gleaming hardwood floor. But for all of its charm, clearly this space didn’t belong to any one person. I surmised