Palm South University: Season 2 Box Set Page 15
“I’m just hanging back for now,” she says softly, forcing a smile. “How are you, Bear?”
“Fan-flipping-tastic. Here,” I say, thrusting the beer I’ve yet to drink from toward her. “Special delivery.”
She eyes the glass in my hand, readjusting to lean her opposite elbow back on the bar. It’s then that I notice she’s shaking slightly. I internally groan, cursing myself for thinking she would be able to keep it cool after our hook up last semester. I still don’t even know how that shit happened, but Erin clearly can’t let it go. It’s like she thinks I’m going to jump on stage, steal the mic from the band and shout out to everyone that we fucked like porn stars in the KKB house.
“Thanks, but I’m not really… I don’t want to drink.” Her honey eyes find mine as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I tend to lose control when I do.”
Pursing my lips together, I fight the urge to roll my eyes and shrug, instead. The girl is fucking ridiculous. “Whatever you say, peach. More for me.” I tip back the glass I was holding out for her and drain it, popping it back onto the bar next to her.
“Bear!” Skyler bounds toward us, an infectious grin on her face. “I have a surprise for you.” She drags out the last word, her buzz clearly still in effect.
“I feel like I should run.”
She laughs, grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me through the bar back to Duval Street. “Trust me. You’re going to love this surprise.”
I follow her, my eyes on the neon KKB letters on the back of her hat as she steers us through the crowd. When she finally tugs me out into the warm night air, she drops my wrist and plants her hands on her hips, victorious smile still intact.
“Why are you grinning like you shit in my bed?”
Skyler just wrinkles her nose, but then her eyes jet to the space behind me. I barely have time to turn around before I’m tackled. I hold the offender tight as their legs wrap around me, and that’s all it takes for me to realize who it is.
I’d know those legs anywhere.
“Surprise!” Skyler yells behind me as I grip Shawna tighter, inhaling the floral scent of her black and purple locks. She squeezes me tight in return until I drop her gently to her feet.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
She shrugs, tucking her hands into the pockets of her tiny ripped jean shorts. “I got tired of texting you, so I called Skyler and she told me where you’re staying and helped me set this up. Hope you don’t mind me crashing your bed.”
She winks and I pull her under my arm, kissing her temple before whispering in her ear. “As long as you don’t plan on getting any sleep, I think we’ll be fine.”
Shawna shivers under my touch and I grin against the skin of her neck.
“Uh, okay, looks like my job here is done. Have fun, you two!” Skyler quickly hugs Shawna and steps up on her toes long enough to kiss my cheek before skipping back inside, her beachy waves swinging behind her.
“Should we head in?” Shawna asks, thumb pointed toward the bar.
“I have a better idea.”
SHAWNA IS STILL BLUSHING as we wander the empty streets of Key West, dawn just within reach. She’s not exactly one who blushes lightly, but I kind of like the way the rosiness sets on her cheeks. I’m not sure if she’s blushing from the heat we built up dancing or the fact that we just stripped down to our Birthday Suits and partied with a bunch of old naked men and women in the Garden of Eden.
Either way, I like that I put that blush there.
“I cannot believe we just did that,” she breathes, still giggling. “I will never get helicockter guy out of my head.”
“Hey! That’s the best part about having a dick,” I defend, swinging my hips to mimic the motion of the skinny sixty-year old biker from the bar. The Garden of Eden is a rooftop bar above a country bar on Duval Street and it’s clothing optional. There are no phones or cameras allowed, but it still took three shots to get either one of us comfortable enough to take our clothes off. We were the hottest people there, and as soon as we lost our underwear, all the attention was on us. I expected Shawna to be shy or embarrassed, but she danced with me and flaunted her shit in front of everyone like she was the most confident woman on earth.
I’m starting to think she might actually be.
Shawna rolls her eyes and shoves me but I bounce back, pulling her under my arm. She sighs, content in my grasp. The night air has cooled down significantly, blanketing our hot skin in a relieving reprieve.
“What a wild place.”
I nod, taking in the brightly colored houses on either side of the street. We’re not really walking anywhere, just strolling, and we’re the only ones left, it seems. Occasionally, a cab will blow buy, rowdy Spring Breakers hanging out the windows, but for the most part it’s just us. “It’s amazing.” I kiss her temple, smiling down at her bright green eyes. “Even better now that you’re here.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and we fall into a rhythm, her sandals and my Jordan’s thumping the pavement with each step.
“You know, when we first started hooking up, I thought that’s all you’d be to me,” Shawna says, wrapping her arm around my waist and hooking her finger into my belt loop. “It made sense. You were hot, we had amazing sex, and it was fun.” She shrugs. “But I didn’t expect you to be a great listener. Or a protective friend. Or an amazing big brother. It’s like everything I never thought I’d feel with you actually came easily — effortlessly, without even thinking about it.” She smiles softly, biting her lower lip as her eyes stay fixed on her feet. “Somewhere along the way, I think I started falling for you.”
My throat constricts at her words, the darkness of night just before dawn surrounding me. I swallow, wondering why I’m not laughing, or shaking my head, or planning my escape route. I never wanted anything serious with Shawna, and even now, it feels like a bad idea. But the truth is, I think I’m falling for her, too.
I halt, pulling Shawna into my arms. She wraps hers around my neck, eyes fierce as she stares up at me, not the least bit ashamed of what she just admitted out loud.
“Me too,” I say simply.
She smiles, the black frames of her glasses lifting on her cheeks. “I really want you to nail me on the beach.”
I choke out a laugh, snaking my hand up to brush one of her purple locks aside. “Hmm… I could possibly be persuaded to oblige.”
Shawna’s eyes sparkle as she lifts up on her toes, pressing her lips to mine. I pull her into me, hands gripping her shirt at the hem, slipping my tongue inside her mouth only to be rewarded with a moan.
We’re all hands and lips as we stumble our way onto a private beach of a hotel, breaking contact just long enough to jump a fence or strip off clothing before collapsing into a beach cabana bed. The soft blue hue of morning battles with the dark night just as I sink inside her, her nails dragging down my sunburned back. I hiss at the sensation and she takes my mouth with hers. When she flips us over, her hips straddling mine, I watch with fascination as bright pinks and oranges light the sky behind her arching back.
By the time the sun breaks its kiss with the horizon, we’re completely spent, skin slick, legs tangled. And for a while it’s just the sound of our breathing and the waves on the shore that exist in the world. Shawna falls asleep on my chest and I let her rest for a while, knowing I’ll have to wake her soon before we’re caught. A strange emotion washes over me, one I’ve never felt but don’t feel compelled to fight.
With my fingers in her hair and my heart on my sleeve, I let myself fall a little further.
I THOUGHT DOING COCAINE would be the highest high I would ever feel.
I still remember the first time, the night we won first place in four categories at the South Florida Pole Dance Event. Hayden pulled me into the bathroom, we got high, and then we had the best sex I’d had up until that point. I thought that was it. In my head, it couldn’t get better than that feeling right there — the ultimate high.
But rig
ht now, stuffing the last bit of cash I needed into my small Vera Bradley backpack and handing off the final bag of Molly, a new kind of high sets in. It’s the kind that can only be obtained when the optimum feeling passes over you.
Freedom.
The girl who bought the last bag from me is young, maybe a sophomore, from a small private college in New York. She’s dressed in cut off, high-waisted jeans and a frayed top with a flower headband wrapped around her huge, bouncy blonde curls. She looks like she’s ready for a music festival, and with her new possession courtesy of me, she might as well be.
“Thanks,” she says sweetly, tucking the baggy in her pocket and skipping off to rejoin her friends standing outside of Sloppy Joe’s. I pull my backpack over my shoulders again and tighten the straps, hiking it up to my upper back. Most of the money I’ve made this week is stashed back at our suite, but today’s portion — the final portion — is finally resting right in the center of my back. Funny, it’s the lightest my shoulders have felt in months.
It’s only the third night of Spring Break.
I thought it would take so much longer.
Bo slides up beside me, her pinky hooking around one of my belt loops. Even though it’s hot and humid tonight, her fingers are icy as they graze my skin. “Who was that?”
It’s such a simple question, but her words chase away my momentary high of freedom. Because the truth is, I don’t know who that girl is. I don’t know if she’s a druggie or if this is her first time. I don’t know her apart from any of the other kids I’ve sold coke or Molly or marijuana to over the past few days. I knew going into this that I’d have to disconnect my personal feelings. I can’t think about them and save myself, too. I had to make a choice.
I chose me.
Still, what if someone gets hurt because of me? Would I even know? Hundreds of kids get too stupid on Spring Break and hurt themselves. But until now, I never had to make peace with the fact that I could, potentially, be the one responsible for that.
But they would probably find a way to get the drugs with or without me, right? It’s not like I’m the only one with a stash. And it’s their choice to take the drug, not mine.
Sighing, a bit defeated, I realize it doesn’t matter how I put it — I still did a shitty thing. But when I glance over at Bo’s almond eyes sparkling in the bright lights of Duval Street, knowing she’s safe from Xavier, knowing I’m free from his grip on my life, I don’t feel sad. I don’t feel guilty.
I feel relieved.
“No one. She just asked to borrow a hair tie,” I reply. Sliding my hand up Bo’s arm, I hook my fingers around the nape of her neck and pull her into me, pressing my lips hard on hers in the middle of the sea of Spring Breakers. For a moment, it feels like everything around us is muted — the harsh lights, the shrieks from tipsy girls, the bar chants from rowdy boys. Bo freezes, fighting the urge to moan, her hands gripping my waist before pushing me away.
“What are you doing?” she hisses, her eyes searching the busy street. “Someone could see us.”
I grin, knowing she’s right but not really caring at the moment. “Let’s go fucking crazy tonight. I mean like let’s take it to an entirely new level.”
Bo’s eyes light up and I feel my energy transfer to her. We’re tied together like that — if she’s low, I feel low. If I’m high, she feels high. We feed off each other.
“What do you have in mind, Ashlei Daniels?”
Grabbing her hand in mine and tugging her toward The Lazy Gecko, the excitement I felt building all day burns faster, consuming me inch by inch.
“Let’s start with shots and go from there.”
Bo giggles, bouncing with me. “Deal!”
A FEW HOURS LATER, BO AND I are closing our tabs at the fifth bar of the night. It’s late, or should I say early, but Key West doesn’t shut down until the patrons let it. Every bar stays open as long as they feel like it, and with the bass still thumping hard and bodies still pressed together on the dance floor behind us, I know they’ll be here a while.
Bo is signing her check when I spot him.
I’m not the kind of person who finds attraction to a person slowly. I know from the first time I meet them whether I’ll be into them or not. With Bo, the connection was instant, even if I didn’t voice it out loud. And right now, staring at a tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed guy just down the bar, I feel it — that instant assault of flutters in my stomach.
“Bo, what if I told you I wanted to do something really crazy tonight?”
She eyes me, letting her pen drop to the bar. “What do you mean?”
I swallow, unsure of what her reaction will be when I pose my next question. But the adrenaline is coursing through my veins right along with the alcohol, my freedom from the hell that’s been binding me for months making me feel more alive than ever. Taking her hands in mine, I kiss her knuckles and level my eyes with hers. “Have a threesome with me.”
“What?” she balks, her mouth hanging open. “Ashlei, I don’t… I just want you.”
I swallow, nodding. “I know, and you know I want you, too. I love you,” I say the words before thinking better of them, but I don’t take them back. It’s true. I do love her.
She closes her mouth, her brows pulling inward as her hands squeeze mine. “You do?”
I nod. “I do, Bo. You pulled me out of a darkness I didn’t think I would ever survive. And now that I’m here, in a better place than I’ve been in months, with you — I want to celebrate by doing something wild. But only if it’s with you. I want this with you.” She frowns, but I pull her closer. “Please.”
Bo studies me, chewing her slim bottom lip. “Have you ever done it before?”
I shake my head, and that seems to reassure her. “I just… I feel so alive right now, Bo. I feel spontaneous. It’s Spring Break, I’m here with you, I’m free from all the shit that’s been holding me back,” I trail off, not wanting to get into details since Bo isn’t aware of what I had to do to achieve said freedom. Tucking a strand of blonde hair behind my ear, I ask again. “Please. Let’s experience this together.”
For a moment longer, she keeps her bottom lip pinned between her teeth. But then, slowly, she nods, and when I smile, she does, too.
“Come with me.”
I wrap my arms around her waist and walk her with me, straight up to Mystery Man, whose eyes are just as fiercely attached to mine as mine are his.
“What are you?” I ask as soon as we reach him. Bo snaps her eyes to me, confused at my question, but the guy just tongues the inside of his cheek, grinning.
“I’m a lot of things.”
“What’s your ethnicity?” I clarify, taking in his strong jaw, long nose, and lean build. He’s so exotic, I can’t help but stare.
He chuckles. “Armenian.”
I cock a brow at Bo, but she only shrugs in response. “Is he the one you want?” I nod and she takes a deep breath, giving me a small smile that lets me know to make my next move. Excitement burns through me, its source at my core as I turn back to the guy.
“What’s your name?”
“Alex,” he answers smoothly.
“Alex…” I try it on, tasting it as my eyes skate over his muscular forearms. “Take us back to your place.”
BO’S HAND SHAKES IN MINE and I squeeze it gently, trying to soothe her nerves as the cab drops us at the large gate of a private home.
“I thought you said you were here with your fraternity brothers?” I ask, referencing Alex’s conversation in the car ride over. It turns out, he’s an Omega Chi. I have no fucking idea how I’ve never seen him before now.
He unlocks the large wooden door and gestures for us to walk in first. “I am.”
I shoulder off my Vera Bradley bag and toss it into a small chair near the front door as Alex shuts it behind us, my eyes on the lavish surroundings and my hand still latched onto Bo’s.
“A little high-end for a house full of fraternity brothers, don’t you think?” I ask, glancing back a
t him. He runs a hand through his dark hair and grins, his eyes heavy from the alcohol. “It’s my uncle’s place. He rents it out most of the year, so when I found out this is where we were going for Spring Break, he blocked it out so I could have it.”
“Wait, so you guys get to stay here for free?” Bo asks, now letting her own eyes wander the no-doubt expensive paintings lining the walls. Alex nods and I trail my fingers along the smooth, polished wood surface of the long dining room table before my eyes catch on something shiny in the next room.
“Oh my God, your uncle must be a bachelor.” Dropping Bo’s hand, I cross quickly into the other room, empty save for a few air mattresses blown up along the far wall and one, lone pole in the middle. One wall is made up completely of floor-to-ceiling mirrors and I note my wild blonde hair and dark, mascara smeared eyes.
Alex chuckles. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He slides up next to Bo and watches me carefully as my hands find the pole. When the cool metal hits my palms, I exhale long and slow, a rush of emotions hitting me — fear, excitement, longing. I’ve missed being on the pole, and I’m just drunk enough to not let the dark thoughts creep in as I grip it hard and swing my legs, hoisting myself up into an easy spin and high kick hold. I drop back down to the ground gently, balancing on the balls of my feet as I circle the pole, one hand still attached, my eyes finding Bo’s.
Suddenly, she doesn’t seem so nervous.
She seems mesmerized.
Alex’s eyes are on fire, one arm crossed over his chest while the opposite hand covers his mouth. They’re both watching me, enamored, and the power of their stares sinks deep in my center.
There’s no music in the room, but there’s always been music in my heart, and I let the passion I feel move me. Climbing my way back up the pole, I start with a few more beginner moves, spinning and holding flexes before dropping back down to the floor each time, circling, arching my back, sinking low to the floor only to climb back up the pole again. I’m not sure how long I dance before Bo crosses the room to me, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as I press my back to the pole and wait for her. She steps closer and closer, dark almond eyes hard on mine. When she reaches the space in front of me, she bites her bottom lip.