The rest of the girls calm down, either meandering off or falling into each other’s arms to dance. But Kennedy lingers by the guy with the bottle.
“Give me another!” she demands, accepting a shot glass full of liquid less than thirty seconds after she took the first one.
Although, who knows if that’s her first one. Kennedy looks like she might not be able to stand on her own, she’s swaying so much. She knocks back the second shot, that I’m aware of, and screws up her face in a sour reaction. Immediately, she chugs beer out of her red cup to wash the burn of alcohol down.
“And another!” Her lithe body wiggles, shaking the ass I can’t make out past the flames and logs between us.
I watch as Rachel and Bianca’s eyes widen, but they don’t stop her. Maybe they think it’s funny she’s trying to lose all control. Maybe they don’t think they can stop her.
“I think that’s enough.”
8
Everett
I don’t even realize I’ve walked halfway across the field, right up into Kennedy’s personal space, until I’m pulling the shot out of her readily waiting grasp.
“Hey, man, what the—” The guy who was serving from a magnum bottle of Svedka is about to start yapping at me, until he sees my face.
His “oh, shit” expression is all I need to see to know that he knows who I am.
“What the hell!” Kennedy makes a face at him, before turning to me.
Her expression molds from annoyance into shock in one second flat. Then, she smacks me with an open palm, right against my right pec.
“Everett? What the hell do you think you’re doing? That’s mine!” Her words are clear, but the screech of her frustrated tone grates on my ears.
“Doesn’t look like it anymore.” In one quick swallow, I down the shot.
The liquor burns my throat, dissolving the knot of fury that took up residence there just seconds ago as I watched Kennedy making one bad decision after the next.
“You’re cut off. She’s cut off, got me?” I say to those around us, who nod like bobble heads.
They’re probably scared shitless of me, which means ridiculous rumors about my time away have been floating around. That’s probably better, they should be.
“You’re not the boss of me!” Kennedy shrieks, rage flashing in those amber eyes.
It turns me on, her anger, and the tip of my cock is tingling with anticipation. Fuck, keep it together, Everett. How did I go from actively trying to avoid her, to stomping across the party and rubbing my scent all over her? I told her I wanted nothing to do with her.
“And you sound like a five-year-old,” I taunt.
She stamps her foot, really adding to the level of maturity. “What are you even doing here? This is for Brentwick seniors only.”
“Yet I see Dan and Matt Gilroy over there, both juniors.” I hold up a hand, waving to the twin little brothers of one of my good friends from school.
Kennedy huffs out an annoyed breath. “Either way, you have no say in what I do and don’t do. You made it very clear the other day that you never wanted one.”
People around us are starting to stare, and both Rachel and Bianca, who stand close by, look stunned. This is not a conversation I want to have, much less in front of people, and yet I’m the one who came swooping in like some sober savior.
Attempting to reclaim her shot glass, Kennedy swats at my hand, getting into my space so much that I have to wrap a hand around her waist to keep her upright as she clumsily paws at me.
“Let. Me. Have. It,” she grits out, struggling to even move with the hold I have on her.
Somehow, she’s able to slip from my grip, and sidles back up to Bottle Guy, taking the entire handle of Svedka and gulping.
“What the fuck …” My teeth snap together, and I grab it, spilling vodka all over the ground.
“That’s it,” I declare, and pluck her straight off her feet.
With Kennedy over my shoulder, and a handle of vodka in my fist, I take a swig, hand it back to the random guy, and stomp off.
“You are a piece of shit!” she curses, smacking my ass and digging her nails into my tailbone.
It’s the first I’ve heard her curse … maybe ever. It turns me on more than anything. Well, that and the fact that she’s swatting at my ass. Any kind of female contact at this point would probably turn me on.
“Yeah, I know. Welcome to reality,” I grumble, because I am a piece of shit.
But I’m a piece of shit who isn’t going to let her get alcohol poisoning out in this fucking field. Who isn’t going to let some drunk asshole take advantage of her unconscious body. I’m going to put a stop to that right now.
Setting her down after walking into a clearing, the laughter and music long behind us, I watch as Kennedy rights her clothes and huffs like a pissed off peacock. It’s hard to take her frustration seriously when her tits are covered in bubble gum pink fuzz.
“So I’m not allowed to lay a finger on you, but you can throw me over your shoulder like some kind of Neanderthal?” She sways, disoriented from the vodka and her little upside-down ride.
“What the hell were you doing back there, Kennedy?” I demand.
“You’re not the only one who sees dead people.” Her voice takes on a singsong quality.
“What is this, comparing our Sixth Sense abilities?” I crack, the vodka going to my head. It’s been a minute since I’ve drank, and the liquor is pulling me into the realm of tipsy.
Kennedy cracks up, leaning on me for support. The side of her boob brushes my bicep, and the jolt goes straight to my balls. If I’m not careful, and she keeps touching me, I won’t be able to keep myself in check. As it is, the hormones raging through me were sent into chaos the minute I took her out here in the dark, alone.
And as much as I told her that touching me was a hard limit now, no alarm bells go off in my head. I don’t want to put her in a headlock or cower in a corner when her hand grips my arm, and I’m … fucking shocked.
“Remember when we secretly watched that movie as kids, and then I had night terrors for like, weeks? My mom was convinced I was having a psychotic break.”
“Yeah, then I came clean and got grounded for being a bad influence on you.”
In fact, I often got grounded for being a bad influence on Kennedy. She was my only playmate, both of us being only children, and it was only natural that the boy took the brunt of the punishment.
The cold closes in, as does the darkness, and no one is coming out here after us. I miscalculated just how tense removing her from that situation would be, because it landed me in my own personal hell.
Kennedy shivers, moving in closer, and though I shouldn’t be able to stand so close to someone due to all I’ve been put through, I don’t step back. If anything, I lean in.
We’re pushed up against each other, her tits against my chest, my groin snug against her hips. All of the blood in my body rushes to my cock, and she must notice the massive hard-on I’m beginning to sport. Our breath comes out in white puffs, the air and the proximity to her making it hard to breathe for me.
“What do you mean, you see dead bodies?” Something about her is off tonight, and I can’t put my finger on it.