Things only continue to go downhill as my dad fires question after question at him. By the time we’re pulling out of the driveway, fifteen minutes have passed since I first walked out of the house.
“Sorry about that,” I say as I buckle my seatbelt. “I’m not sure what got into him today.”
William squirms in his seat as he adjusts the mirror. “No worries. I just didn’t expect your dad to be so uptight.”
“What do you mean by your dad?”
He shrugs as he shifts gears and speeds up. “I just figured with as laid back as you are that your parents would be pretty chill.”
I feel a little bit defensive, which is really out of character for me. Usually I try to stay all peace, love, and sunshine. “He was just making sure his daughter wasn’t driving off with a psychopath.”
He laughs, kind of snidely. “He seemed a little overly intense, if you ask me.”
Okay, maybe Ayden was right. Perhaps I should spend more time with a guy before I proclaim that I’m in love with him.
“Sorry,” he quickly says when he catches sight of my disappointment. “I just don’t do well with parents.” He reaches across the console and wraps his fingers around my bare knee. “Let’s drop it, though, and have some fun tonight.” He flashes me his infamous dimpled grin.
I smile back, but I’m suddenly not feeling him.
As William starts rambling about sports, I slide my finger across the screen of my phone and send Ayden a text.
Me: Hey, so I just wanted to see if u were ok. U looked super upset when I left and I feel like maybe I might have pushed u a little too far… If u need to talk or want to meet up later, I’m totally down for it. William might be a bust anyway.
I slide my phone into my pocket, waiting for a reply. By the time we arrive at the party, I’m still feeling super down and a bit anxious, so when William offers me a drink, I take it, even though I’ve tried to avoid alcohol since the whole scotch incident.
William flashes me his pearly whites as I guzzle down half the cup in one gulp. “Hell yeah!” he cheers over the pop music I loathe, blasting so loudly I can feel the bass in my chest.
I lick a drop of the spiked punch off the bottom of my lip, slightly more at ease as the alcohol settles into my system. “Want to dance!” I shout, figuring anything will be better than talking about sports some more.
Without waiting for him to respond, I hand him my drink, wiggle out of my jacket and shake my ass toward the dance floor, twirling around and around.
I waggle my fingers at my friend Maggie, who’s dancing in the corner with a guy that looks old enough to be in college. She winks at me and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively right as someone places their hands on my waist.
“You dance fucking amazing,” William whispers in my ear, his breath hot on my skin and reeking of Bacardi.
I smile at myself then whirl around and really show him what dancing is, rocking and grinding my hips against his. He moves with me, rubbing against me as his hands travel all over my body, gripping at my flesh.
“God, you smell so fucking good.” His teeth graze my neck as his hand cups my ass.
The music suddenly screams at my eardrums to the point where I can’t stand it anymore.
I’m so not ready for this tonight.
I tense and push back, putting room between our bodies. “Maybe we should slow things down just a bit.”
He seems a little pissed, but calms down and says, “How about we go out back where it’s a little bit quieter and talk. There are people out there, too, so we won’t be alone.”
I nod, relieved that he’s not being pushy about my stiffness. That’s pretty much the only thing he’s done right the entire night, so I take it.
He pours us both another drink in the kitchen area before he slips his fingers through mine and steers me through Maggie’s house. I’ve never actually been to her home before, not her father’s house anyway. William seems to know his way around as he maneuvers through the throng of people drinking, dancing, laughing, and playing pool. Some I go to high school with, while others look old enough to be in college.
“This house is huge!” I yell over the music as we veer down a narrow hallway lined with shut doors. The lighting is dim, the music softer.
He peers over his shoulder. “Drink up,” he says, nodding at the cup in my hand. His expression is darker than it was minutes ago. Oddly enough, he seems extremely relaxed. It makes me hesitate. Red flags go up.
All of a sudden, he’s tugging me into a dark room with a bed and a dresser. He doesn’t turn the lights on as he closes and locks the door behind us. A little too late, I painfully realize that Ayden might have been right about William. And myself, too. I do think with my heart too much. Do trust people too much.
And now I’ve walked head-on into trouble.
Chapter 9
Ayden
I hate parties. Growing up in the midst of them gave me an ugly outlook on what can come from too much partying. My mother was a hardcore partier. Her drug of choice was everything and anything she could get her hands on. It aged her quickly and turned her into a nasty person, one who was incapable of loving and did the most awful things to people, including her own children. And that’s how she died, a doped-up druggie who hated the world and left scars on her offspring. It was a sad, pathetic waste of a life. At her funeral, I vowed that I would never turn into her.
I almost did, though, as I got lost in the system, getting bitter with each home I was passed through. But then I lucked out and ended up with the Gregorys, who showed me that people could love one another unconditionally and gave me hope that maybe trusting people was a possibility. That perhaps even love was a possibility. That’s what my therapist is trying to convince me.
“You’re too afraid to feel all the horrible emotions you shut down as a child.” He told me that today while I sat in his office, fidgety as usual. You would think after nine months of monthly visits with him I would be more relaxed, yet I never am. “That fear is blocking out all of the good emotions as well as some of your memories.”
I hadn’t responded.
Part of me agrees with him, but I am doing better with dealing my emotions, not shutting down so much and keeping my feelings to myself. Then I saw that damn paper and was reminded of stuff forgotten. I snapped at Lyric, which is gnawing at me more than anything.
“Ayden, tell Kale to stop teasing me!” Fiona shouts from the kitchen table as Kale throws a pencil at her.