Rex sets both cups, that seem to have spilt everywhere, on the ground and stands. He rubs his hands down the side of his shorts then turns and waits for me to follow. We take a winding path, twisting and turning through a sea of bodies. Practically senior and a good amount of our juniors are here tonight, unsurprisingly so. This is my first Montgomery party, but from what I can tell it exceeds the rumors.
Rex opens a set of double paned doors. I gasp as he leads me into his kitchen. It’s huge, bigger than my bio-mom’s whole apartment, and this is just the kitchen! I can’t begin to imagine what the rest of the house is like. There are probably servants quarters, hidden elevators and a recording studio somewhere.
He flips a switch, illuminating the room. Spotless marble countertops shine under the crystal chandelier, reflecting light towards the stainless steel appliances and Spanish tiles. He walks around the island in the center of the kitchen and opens one side of the fridge. “Water?”
I shake my head. Rex grabs a bottle of Zephyrhills for himself then closes the door. He twists the cap off and takes a sip. Once satisfied, he puts the cap back on and sets the bottle on the counter. Such a normal act looks inhumanly hot when he does it. Life’s not fair. I clear my throat and avert my eyes to the island, running my hands over the smooth marble.
“Come on” He leads me out of the kitchen and through what feels like a maze of rooms.
I take in each breathtaking feature, mesmerized by the beauty of his house. Rose colored Spanish tiles with paw prints embedded in them. Framed oil paintings. Perfect, flawless, dustless armoires and fresh flower displays on end tables. A Victorian style table carved from cherry wood, large enough to seat twenty with leather high back throne-like chairs to match. Each room we pass is connected by a doorway to the next, all seemingly serving the same purpose: sit or stand but let me entertain you. Let me welcome you into my home.
I stop in the hallway to look at the collage of pictures on the wall. Rex as a baby. Rex and his family in the hospital together. A few of Rex throughout the years. A handful of his parents on luxurious vacations, but only one of the three of them together. Strange. “This place is beautiful.”
“It’s a house,” he says with zero enthusiasm. His hand settles on my lower back. To my surprise and excitement, I’m okay. The only thing I feel is the fluttering of my heart and the spinning of my head, which is worse than all of my anxiety attacks combined. I don’t want to feel this. I don’t want to like Rex.
He guides me deeper into the mini mansion. “Come on. You haven't reached the best part yet.”
We pass the front door and a set of stairs then finally make it to the living room. Of all the rooms we’ve crossed through, this one is the simplest. A large leather sectional with not two but six reclining seats is the focal point of the room. There are two end tables, a coffee table and a bookshelf filled with DVDs, but no TV.
“You’re gonna love that,” Rex says his gaze dancing to the couch. He opens the drawer in the coffee table nearest the door and pulls out a remote. He pushes a button and the wood paneling wall in front of us slides open, revealing a hidden, monstrous flat screen TV. He then switches remotes, clicks the screen on, then hands me the one that controls the TV. “Find something you’d like to watch. I’ll be right back.”
I walk to the furthest end of the couch and sit. The leather is soft, swallowing me in cloud-like cushions. I bring my legs up, and the back of the seat reclines. Comfy. I push the red Netflix button and let the default profile load. I haven’t watched Netflix since I moved out of the Harris house my freshman year. Bio-mom couldn’t afford it and I haven’t felt much like watching TV lately. My jaw falls open once the profile loads, there are so many options! New movies. Old movies. Netflix Originals. TV shows. How does anyone choose?
Five minutes later, Rex comes into the room with a large bowl of popcorn and two waters. He sets the waters on the end table then sits himself at one corner of the couch, leaving enough space to fit a family of five between us. The buttery, salty smell of popcorn makes my stomach growl.
I scoot closer, noticing a cheeky grin on Rex’s face. I like his smile. It’s playful and sweet with just enough of a smirk that he always looks like his mind is in the gutter. He extends his arm with the bowl so I can grab a handful of kernels, but I’m too far away. I scoot even closer, past the center of the sectional.
Sneaky bastard’s tricking me into sitting next to him.
I reach into the bowl and grab a fistful of popcorn, then retract my hand back to my lap. I pick up one kernel and plop it into my mouth. I close my eyes, savoring the salty-sweetness. I can’t remember the last time I had popcorn. When I open my eyes again for another piece Rex is staring at me. I plop another kernel into my mouth. “What?”
“If those are the noises you make eating popcorn, I can’t imagine—” he cuts himself off, grins, and shakes his head. “Never mind.”
Rex kept all body parts to himself throughout our movie. He hasn’t made an attempt to put his arm around me or hold my hand. To kiss me or cuddle close. But every now and then I catch him unabashedly watching me instead of the TV.
“Stop,” I mumble, my smile growing harder to contain. There’s a playful energy building between us, one I wish he’d act on.
The corner of Rex’s lips twitch as he tries to hold a straight face. “Stop what?”
“Looking at me. It’s weird.” My heart hammers in my chest, beating against my flesh like a caged animal desperate to get out. I lick my lips. Why? I don’t know. Apparently, my tongue has a mind of its own and wants his attention. Rex’s gaze flickers down to it for a full second then finds my eyes again. He shifts, turning his body towards me, leaning an inch closer.
I can do this. If he can touch me, he can kiss me. What’s the worst that can happen? I don’t know, a debilitating panic attack where you seize up and die? Meh, I’ll risk it.
“I can’t help it,” Rex says breaking eye contact to take a sip of his water. “You’re beautiful.”
Butterflies swarm in my stomach. I don’t know how he’s doing this to me. I feel alive again. Maybe this is why Death didn’t take me. Maybe she knew Life had a plan and something good was coming. Rex could be that something good. I roll my eyes, a nervous laugh escaping me. “Yeah. Okay.”
Rex leans back against the arm of the couch, his brows knitting together. “Can I ask you something?”
Oh gosh, this is it. He’s going to ask to kiss me like a true gentleman. Yes! The answer is yes! “Maybe.”
He chuckles, and the sound sends the butterflies into overdrive. So much flipping and thumping inside me. I can’t take the anticipation anymore. I’m ready.
“If you could be anything, no worrying about salary or location, what would you be?
My stomach drops, every butterfly inside dies and falls into a bottomless pit. I fake smile and say, “That’s easy. A librarian.”
Rex crosses his leg over his knee, hands going behind his head. “No shit. Why?”