Touching Melody - By RaShelle Workman Page 0,20

with blond highlights wearing only red boxers sticks a tray in my face and smiles. “Jell-O shot?”

Surprised, I step back. “What’s in it?” I ask, wrinkling my nose.

He leans in and whispers in my ear. “Heaven.”

My face heats up, and I have no idea why. But I figure I’ll give it a try. He hands me a cup filled with blue Jell-O. I don’t know what to do with it.

Gina grabs a yellow one, tips it, and squeezes the contents into her mouth. She shakes her head, and swallows. “Yummy.” She tosses the empty cup on the tray, picks up another, and does it again.

“Give it a try,” the guy says, smirking at Gina.

I’m still hesitant until Gina adds, “It’s filled with booze.”

I can’t help the smile that breaks over my face.

The mostly-naked guy and Gina laugh. “I guess I should’ve led with that,” the guy says.

My mind is reeling, ready for the gooey warmth that comes with the strong liquid. I tip back the small cup. The contents fall into my mouth, and I swallow. “Mmmmm. Good.”

“Have another.”

I take a red one and tip it back. “It’s like candy.” And I do a third. The music changes to a song I know. My body sways on its own.

“The best kind of candy,” Boxer Guy says. “My name is Stuart, by the way.” He sticks out his hand and I shake it.

“Hi. I’m Maddie.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Someone shrieks, and we turn. Gina has jumped on one of the stages and is moving her backside against the pole. The scream must’ve come from the girl Gina kicked off.

I’m a little horrified.

“Your friend’s name is Gina, right?” Stuart asks.

I search his face. He’s watching her, a strange look on his face. Then he clears his throat. “I’ve heard about her. Gina’s a party girl.”

He hasn’t said anything that isn’t true. Obviously she likes to have fun. But, for some reason, the way he said her name makes me want to lock him up and throw away the key. “What did you hear?”

He turns to me. “Oh, nothing. Hey, you want another shot?”

The alcohol buzz hasn’t hit me yet. “Sure.” I tip it back.

Stuart moves closer, and runs a hand along my waist. My heart jumps into my throat. His hand on my body does not feel right.

“Go refill your tray, grunt!” The command has come from behind us.

We both jump.

Stuart turns toward the voice, and I follow.

It’s Kyle, dressed in a black suit, a crisp white shirt, and a black tie. I melt into a puddle on the floor.

Stuart disappears, and it’s just me and Kyle. Kyle and me. The two of us. Standing in front of each other. The man who used to be the boy I loved.

His father killed my parents. He's evil because his dad is evil.

He’s a slut. A kinky slut.

My brain rages, telling me to run and run fast. But the Jell-O shots have kicked in. My veins fill with blissful indifference. I’m drowning in the balminess.

My mind changes its tune.

Kyle didn’t kill my parents.

A body this beautiful cannot be evil.

He’s a slut. A kinky slut.

“Tell me what that means,” I blurt. My face gets hot. I’m scalded with mortification. I hadn’t meant to say those words out loud.

He chuckles. It’s low and sexy, meant just for me.

“I can’t tell you if I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He’s smiling. His perfect lips, flashing perfect teeth, attached to a perfect face.

“Oh,” I blush hotter.

He’s standing so close to me I can feel his breath on my face. Sweet. And I wonder how many shots he’s had. If his lips taste like lemon, or strawberry. Orange or lime. My fingers touch his lips. I’ve been waiting forever to kiss these lips. The succulent bottom and soft top. I imagine they’ll feel like a pillow, or a cloud.

Hell has beautiful scenery, I think, my body moving up, placing me on a collision course with his lips.

“You never called,” he says.

I pull back. “Um, yeah, sorry. I don’t have a phone.”

His fingers are touching my arms, scorching a trail. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“With you?” I ask, unable to keep my eyes from his face. My hands are on his chest. I’m not sure when I put them there, but they feel like they’re in exactly the right place.

He chuckles again. “You’re new to all of this, aren’t you?” His eyes roam around the room.

“It is that obvious?” My words are slurred.

“Come on,” he says, wrapping