He led us into the kitchen where I could see a couple kegs set up. A bunch of the jocks were standing around, red plastic cups littered on the counters and overflowing the trashcan. Out back there was a swimming pool, the lights focused on the scantily-clad girls sitting on the edge, giggling to each other and being painfully obvious as they checked out the guys.
I was pushed and shoved inadvertently by the crowd, and Sutton reached out and took my hand in his, keeping us tethered together.
“Fucking watch it,” he shouted to the guys butting into me. They muttered their drunken, slurred apologies before swerving off into the living room.
Sutton was my stepbrother, had been like family for the past two years, but the truth was I didn’t see him as any of that. My feelings for him had grown from curiosity, affection and desire, to full-blown love. In those two years since I’d moved into his home, our family combining as one, my desire for him had gone from teenage lust to intense love.
Never had I felt anything like this for another person, never even thought I could feel such strong emotions for someone. But as I looked at Sutton and felt butterflies in my stomach, felt my heart racing and my palms sweating, I knew that not having him close was its own kind of torment. That eventually I would have to be honest with him and myself, or risk losing what we could have altogether.
And that time was tonight, hence the party vibe where alcohol would give me the courage I needed to be honest.
He grabbed us two beers, the foam going to the top of the red plastic cups. A few of his friends started talking to him, stuff I had no clue about: suspensions, chassis, carburetors and other car-related lingo that went in one ear and out the other. I wasn’t an idiot when it came to some vehicle things, but they talked about it as if they had degrees, as if it were a science.
I took a hearty drink of my beer, the bitter flavor a turn-off at first, but with every sip it became more tolerable. I was nearly finished with my beer before I even realized, warmth spreading through me already. I was a lightweight when it came to drinking and parties, opting for bottled water instead of a tapped keg. But I’d made up my mind to tell Sutton how I felt tonight, knowing that he wouldn’t be around for much longer.
Twenty minutes later I was on my second beer and starting to really feel the effects of the drink hitting me. I leaned against the wall by the fridge, not bothering to stop staring at Sutton, who still talked with his friends. He glanced at me for about the fifth time in the last ten minutes, and I felt my cheeks heat. I knew my face was red, not just because he’d caught me staring at him—once again—but because anytime I drank alcohol this was the reaction I got.
Rosy cheeks and glassy eyes.
I was a cheap date, that was for sure.
“Catherine!” I heard my name being shouted across the room and turned to see Morgan, my best friend, lifting her hand and waving at me frantically. I rose on my toes in order to see her better over the thick group of people separating us.
She was flushed, and I saw the reason why. Riker Mitchell, star quarterback for the varsity football team, or he had been before he graduated. She kept glancing over at him, this goofy smile on her face.
I smiled and shook my head, knowing that she was harboring some pretty strong feelings for him, but that she never said anything, too afraid because she didn’t think she was pretty enough, popular enough, not in the same league as him. She was insane. Morgan was gorgeous, and I was pretty sure the glances Riker gave her, the reason he kept her at the friend level, was because he was just as afraid as she was.
She gestured for me to come over, and I was about to push through the people and go over to her when I felt a heavy hand land on my arm, stopping me. I looked over my shoulder to see Sutter right there, his focus on me intense … concerned.
“Where you going?” He was so protective of me. I lifted my hand and pointed to Morgan. He glanced over my shoulder to see where I pointed. He nodded but instead of letting go of my arm, he slid his hand down so he could twine his fingers with mine. God, that had my belly clenching with arousal.
All it took were these little touches and I was wet and needy for him.
He weaved us through the crowd to where Morgan was. My heart beat a little bit faster at that, his protective, almost possessive, demeanor making everything inside of me melt.