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  “I like you, but I have a girlfriend and she’s right there in the room,” he replied, and stroked her arms with his warm fingertips, trying to ease her out of her mood. He felt slimy doing what he was doing, but the feeling of her skin and the haze of the booze overrode his better judgment.

  “I’m more concerned with you and that Simone girl.” The intensity in her eyes cut right through what he was doing.

  Patrick acted surprised that she’d asked. “She’s with Josh.”

  “Doesn’t seem like she wants to be.”

  Slowly, he slid his hands from her arms around to her back and then finally around her waist. He pulled her toward him until their pelvises touched. An unmistakable sensation came over him. He knew that he was hurtling toward something regrettable, but it felt completely addictive and intoxicating in the moment.

  “It doesn’t matter what Simone wants. We flirt, but that’s it. What do you want?”

  There was a heat coming from their closeness amidst the chill of the Colorado spring night. And in the haze of his drunken perception, he could sense her willingness.

  She wet her lips, readying herself, but kept her back arched, to keep her mouth at a safe distance. “I don’t feel right, doing this out front of your house. Someone’s going to see us and get the wrong idea.”

  He glanced back and could partially see back into the house through the front windows. He took her hand and led her off the driveway and around the side of the house, where a tight bushy path led to the back yard. Their feet crunched dead leaves as they meandered through the overgrown brush.

  Patrick’s right hand squeezed firmly on hers while his left was extended in front of him, feeling for any branches that might whip their faces. His whole body was tingling with anticipation, and Lindsey was giggling with a giddiness.

  One of her shoes caught a rock as they emerged into the grass on the other side. She went tripping forward. Patrick lunged to catch her but her motion pulled them both down, tumbling onto the cold grass.

  He ended up on top of her and started laughing with her, feeling freer than he had in quite some time. Tiffany was nowhere in his mind. He could think only of what was directly in front of his eyes, the pale moonlight glancing across the face of this beautiful young girl.

  “You have to stay quiet,” he whispered.

  She kept laughing, practically in a fit, rolling from side to side. He tried to shush her and she sucked his finger into her mouth. The smoothness of her tongue ran up the length of his finger. He couldn’t resist any longer.

  Their horseplay evolved into forcible kissing and groping. He soon found himself sliding her jeans down to her ankles, her bottom bare against the cool grass. The scanty thong she wore was a silky black.

  Then the kissing broke and Lindsey lay there, calm and silent, just staring at him, her eyes that familiar dark brown, as if waiting to see what things he’d do to her. Patrick shed the jeans from her feet and tossed them aside, and she unbuckled his jeans and tugged them down along with his boxers, exposing all of him to the chilly air. He ran his hands down her smooth thighs and pressed himself against her.

  She let out a gasp. He moaned with his mouth right up against her ear.

  Only a thin layer of fabric separated them from each other. He felt passion building up in his core, the urge to take her right there in the grass. It strangled all better judgment from him.

  Then his cell phone chirped in his jeans pocket. The amazing bubble burst and he was flung two levels upward toward a sober understanding of what they were doing. Ignoring the warning, he let the phone call go and started kissing her again. The phone continued to ring.

  “Who is it?” she asked, her legs teetering between letting him in and keeping him out.

  Patrick checked. It was Tiffany. “It’s her.”

  “Simone?”

  He shook his head. “Tiffany. Probably wondering where I am.”

  Lindsey didn’t say anything to that.

  “Fuck it.” He pressed his index finger against Lindsey’s lips and then answered the call. “Hey… what?… yeah, I’m down the street two blocks. There’s another house party down here. I just wanted to take a walk and I saw people heading inside… what?… uh, yeah sure, come on down… okay… okay… bye.”

  “What the fuck was that?” Lindsey demanded.

  Patrick couldn’t help but laugh, though with twinge of regret. “That… was mean. She’s going looking for me.”

  He bent down to re-engage, but this time her lips were cold and unresponsive to his touch.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She let her head fall back against the grass and breathed out hard. “I think I like you.”

  “And I like you. Is there something wrong with that?”

  “Umm, maybe, yeah.”

  She nudged him away and slithered out from under him. Her white skin shone in the moonlight as she stood up and slid on her jeans. He wanted her so badly right then, but knew not to push further.

  Patrick lay there while she put her shoes on and collected herself. He could see all the people inside through the illuminated windows at the back of the house. He and Lindsey were about twenty-five yards deep into the yard. No one even knew they were back here, no one could see them, not even in the moonlight.

  “I’ll be going then,” she said.

  “Okay.” He stood up, hoisted up his boxers and jeans, his erection still pressing into them.

  Then she was gone, disappearing back along the side of the house, making too much noise as she pushed through the brush.

  Patrick sat back down on the grass and took a long, deep breath. Thank god, he thought, relieved that he hadn’t gone through with it.

  Next he pictured Tiffany wandering somewhere down the street of the house, completely unsuspecting, and he let out a sigh.

  A text came in a moment later from Tiffany: I don’t see the party. Where r u?

  He hurried back around to the front of the house. As he was sneaking out of the brush, Simone was there on the doorstep.

  “What on earth are you doing?” she asked.

  He sprung free of the bushes onto the driveway. “Exploring nature. What’s it to you?”

  She moved to the drive. “Tiffany went looking for you.”

  He stopped. “Yeah, I was having a smoke in the back.”

  Simone stepped closer to him. “You don’t smoke. Why’d you tell her you were down the street?”

  “I dunno, I wanted a break. Is it that big a deal?”

  Instead of answering, she sauntered up to him.

  Oh no. He drew back a step. She was prowling with slow, seductive steps. The moonlight caught her blue eyes, and he saw the lust in them.

  “Simone.” He groaned her name, warning her not to do what she was about to do.

  “Patrick.” His name came out of her mouth with a mischievous fancy.

  She was gorgeous, with her dark hair and wild blue eyes. Captivating, almost carrying a malevolent appearance in the moonlight. And that was the way he preferred her. Pure looking, yet aggressive.

  The spell was on him once again.

  Simone reached out, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him close for a kiss. Their lips met once. A small gasp of steam came wafting out of their mouths when their lips came apart. She kissed him again, this time at a different angle and with a little tongue, and on the third time she became ultra-aggressive, ripping her fingers through his hair.

  She pulled back and let him go after she seemed satisfied enough. “You can’t break my heart. You wanna know why?”

  Frustrated, he frowned and tried to fix his hair. “Why?”

  “Because I know what you really are.”

  He stopped messing with his hair. It was rare that she could say something that hurt his feelings. “Don’t say that. I’m not trying to break anyone’s heart.”

  “Oh, I forgot,” she cooed. “You’re just a victim of your love for women or something like that. Right?”

  “Something like
that. What’s your excuse?”

  She thought about it for a second. “I’m just a girl who enjoys a good lay.”

  “Touché.” He looked at her. Her pupils were dilated, her eyes glazed over. She was obviously drunk, far drunker than he, and possibly high too.

  He took her hand, hoping to put her comfortably to bed. “Let’s get you inside.”

  “Will you be coming to bed with me, Mr. Finch?” Her words slurred.

  “Would that I could. But I think your roommate and mine would both have a problem with that.”

  “We’ve shared a guy before.”

  “Have you?” That was news to him.

  “Shhhh,” she said. “We don’t tell anybody about that one.” She let out a hysterical laugh and nearly fell over.

  As they reached the front door, it swung open, and the chatter of the crowd packed inside spilled out into the night. Josh was standing there.

  Never breaking character, Patrick handed Simone over to Josh. “You may want to keep closer watch on that minx. She wanted to lie down in the road.”

  “Will you come inside?” Josh said to her, annoyed.

  Simone breezed right by him as if he wasn’t even there. It made Patrick cringe.

  “Thanks,” Josh said coldly, and with a territorial hint in his tone.

  “Something wrong?”

  “I don’t know, is there?”

  “I don’t think so,” Patrick replied.

  Josh gave a long slow nod. “You coming in?”

  “I’m waiting for Tiffany.”

  “You do that.”

  Josh shut the door. Patrick considered the angle of the window to where he and Simone had been standing and deemed it impossible that Josh had seen.

  Tiffany came hiking back up the road a few minutes later, her blonde hair a wan gray in the moonlight. She caught sight of Patrick standing at the door. “Where have you been?”

  “I just walked back, where were you?”

  “Down the street, looking for the house. There weren’t any parties.”

  “I was on Seventh,” he said.

  “I walked past there too, and there was nothing.”

  He’d already thought up an excuse. In this section of town, the Avenues ran perpendicular to the Streets. “Seventh Avenue or Seventh Street?”

  She thought about that for a second.

  “See,” he said, “I bet you were at Seventh Street.”

  Her brow scrunched, mystified and confused.

  “It’s all good. Let’s go in.”

  She nodded and came to him. Patrick reached out for the doorknob, but Tiffany grabbed his hand and stopped him. She then clasped the back of his neck with her hand and urged him to kiss her, which he did. Slowly, she lifted up her own skirt, revealing her tan, lower half completely bare, which he’d forgotten all about.

  “I need you tonight,” she said, a rapacious grin on her face.

  He nodded and led her inside, pulling her through the doorway gently with his hand. Once inside, she turned him around and hugged him for some reason, not sexual this time, but rather lovingly. “I love you.”

  He ran his hand down the back of her blonde hair, closed his eyes, and said nothing.

  Josh

  SIMONE AND JOSH WERE ON the beer pong table, kicking ass, but Josh had been holding his pee for an hour and a half. At some point in the blur of the night, Patrick had mentioned to keep an eye on George, the girls’ old friend from high school.

  The more the night wore on, the more Josh picked up on peculiarities in George’s act. A careful interlocking of fingers when he gave Simone a high-five, the way he always hugged her from the side whenever the two of them came near and how he held on longer than necessary, how when they stood side by side, he would run his hand up Simone’s back and then squeeze lightly on the nape of her neck.

  Josh was grateful that Patrick had been looking out for him. He was now watching George with a heightened sense of paranoia, but at the same time his legs were bending in and twitching with agony, the pressure swelling in his bladder like a horrible, debilitating cramp. With George standing off to the side of the table, the last thing he wanted to do was leave Simone alone with him, but he was going to piss his pants if he waited any longer. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and ran to the bathroom, threw the seat up and panted in relief as he let it go.

  When Josh hurried back, he found George and Simone at the kitchen counter, him making the two of them drinks. Lindsey, the girl George had been groping most of the night, was gone, having disappeared somewhere into the party. Simone was leaning forward, watching George stir up a green and delicious looking drink. The two of them were laughing about something while he worked up the cocktail.

  Josh felt the warm flood of adrenaline rush into his veins. He wasn’t used to competing over girls. Especially not Simone, who he was beginning to adore more and more with each passing day.

  He said hello briefly but Simone seemed to be ignoring him, so Josh gave them some space. He watched from the couches in the living room, where Tiffany and some of her other girlfriends were talking.

  All the nights that Josh and Simone had slept together had been stamped permanently into his mind. It gave him a slight chill remembering her kissing him while her legs were wrapped around his hips, the way she’d shuddered and shook as he moved in and out of her in the dark of her room, and how he’d been able to smell the sweat in her black hair while he wrapped its tangles in his fingers. His life was different now. He walked through his day with more confidence. He didn’t worry about all the little petty bullshit that had burdened his mind before. He didn’t care about eating, didn’t want to sleep. Homework and school seemed almost pointless now. What he’d found with Simone made everything else in life bleed into the background. It was joy. Something real, finally. It was what he’d been missing the last twenty-one years of his life. It was the feeling of being truly alive for once.

  Josh’s eyes hadn’t left the two of them flirting. Simone was dressed in a white t-shirt with a cute small pocket over the right breast. She wore tight jeans that were like an extra layer of denim skin over her amazing figure. She was the girl you tried to marry one day. After several minutes and seeing that their conversation wasn’t going to end on its own, Josh approached.

  “What are you two doing over here?”

  George’s attention was still on the drink he was making. “I’m trying to steal your girl away, what does it look like?”

  Josh stared at him aggressively.

  George turned to him and raised his eyebrows. “Josh, I’m kidding buddy.”

  A dry laugh left Josh’s mouth, not buying the friendly face that George put on.

  “Will you make him one, too?” Simone reached her arm around Josh’s waist, reassuring him. “He needs a drink.”

  Her touch cooled him down. Josh finally exhaled, and the anger in his face diminished. He wanted to lean down and kiss her but it didn’t seem appropriate.

  “What do you want, my man?” George asked him.

  “Whiskey and Coke.”

  “Patrick got you drinkin’ those?”

  “No,” Josh said flatly.

  George looked up with glassy eyes, and probably realized Josh was going to be testy all night, and smiled.

  Tiffany and her girlfriends came back to the beer pong table to watch the action, which was still going steady. Josh realized he’d hardly spoken with anyone but Simone and George. The three of them moved to the couches once again with their drinks and plopped down, Simone in the middle of them, just as she’d been earlier when she was sandwiched between him and Patrick.

  As they sat on the couch, George seemed to get a second wind of energy. Sloppy drunk only twenty minutes prior, now he was energetic and animated. He told a series of—Josh had to admit—entertaining stories of some the nights he and the girls had had in high school. Josh only listened. Simone and George were laughing so hard together and reconnecting over the seemingly hundreds of fun nights they�
�d lived that Josh felt like he wasn’t even there, was just a ghost observing. After several minutes of this, George asked Josh if it was okay if he stole Simone away for a little bit to play some pong, and Josh waved them away.

  George led her away by the hand to the table in the kitchen. She turned back and blew Josh a kiss, but he just turned away and acted like he hadn’t seen her do it. His blood boiled sitting there alone while everyone else was having fun around him. In a few gulps, he’d downed his drink and then decided to get some air.

  Out on the driveway it was quiet. He was getting really drunk, and stared up at the moon for a while. The glow was absorbing and it had a white halo around it. The Durango air was cool on his skin and crisp in his lungs. He tried to take five long breaths without thinking about whether Simone was slipping through his hands, but couldn’t even do that.

  A noise startled him out of his inner monologue. Something coming through the brush on the side of the house. They’d had small brown bears a couple times. Deer, dozens more. He crept back cautiously toward the door. A girl jumped out of the bushes onto the driveway. He squinted. Lindsey? She didn’t see him standing at the door. And there was a look of distress painted over her face as she walked right past him to her car, about twenty yards down the street. She got in, and drove off into the night.

  What the hell had she been doing back there? He peered back alongside the house, but didn’t hear or see anything else. He went back inside having resolved to let Simone do whatever she was going to do. Let the chips fall where they may.

  That all went to hell when he came to the beer pong table, and George had his arm casually draped around Simone’s shoulders, just as he had done with Lindsey, except Simone was clearly drunk enough not to resist, leaning into him with an easy-going grin. The sight struck like electricity along Josh’s nerve ends. He roared over, grabbed George’s wrist, flung it off her, and shoved him away. “I want to play for a little while.”

  George tripped back and banged into the wall. Everyone around the table stopped talking. Like a good sport, George laughed it off, though was obviously shaken up. Josh put his arm around Simone but wouldn’t look at her, only gazed ahead with a cold stare at the cups.