“But they—”
“It’s just biology, Nik,” I said, washing my hands all too vigorously. “And we need to get the hell out of the way of it. Unless you’ve got a little biology you want to work on tonight?”
I waggled my eyebrows at her with exaggerated emphasis, and she cracked up as a result.
“Maybe we might slip away later,” she said, elbowing me in the ribs as we walked out. “But first let’s find you someone to slip away with.”
But that had never happened before, something that filled me with an irrational shame. I knew why. The guys’ overprotective crap kept suitors away. But part of me couldn’t help but long for some beta to come forward, so inflamed by my beauty that he would insist on a place by my side. I snorted at that, recognising it for the bullshit it was, but… My hands rubbed at my arms, as if that might help. I touched myself because no one else did, no one but them.
“Riley!”
I heard my name being called faintly, but that just helped my feet move faster.
“C’mon,” I said, “let’s find that bonfire.”
Chapter 5
I watched the flames burn higher and higher, feeling some kind of connection to the destructive blaze. Cheers went up as more books, more pencil cases, folders, even novels were tossed on the bonfire. Shit, that bit made me wince. All the paraphernalia of our school years was burned up, reduced back down to ash, the stink of burning plastic filling the air. But my bottle of beer was cold. Shit, and slipping through my fingers! I clenched my fingers tight, just in time to stop it from smashing down on the concrete below. Which reminded me, time for another swig.
“You’re pissed!”
This was announced with a strange kind of triumph, and I glanced owlishly up at the deliverer of this statement. He was a tall, shadowy figure, one it took me a moment to recognise. Ready laugh, easy lope as he walked through the halls, played basketball…
“Clayton!” I said, jubilant that I remembered his name. He seemed equally as pleased. He sidled in close, then pushed my plait off over my shoulder, tracing a finger down the line of it before turning to me.
“Want to come for a walk?”
I knew what this meant, the social rituals of high school discussed fervently in classrooms, the yard, and over social media all the time. Just like that, with no lead-up, no courting, he wanted to know if I wanted to go and make out. My lips fell open, and he seemed to catch every second of that, unable to look away until I pursed them.
I shouldn’t. I barely knew the guy, had probably shared maybe ten words with him in all of high school, and what? I was gonna share spit with him now? I thought of the omegas and their hostile glares and then of the boys they stood in front of, blocking access to. I couldn’t keep hanging around the Vanguards like some kind of moth-eaten mascot, passed around, petted, stroked, scented whenever they felt like it. They mated for life, whereas betas? We could enjoy all the casual sex we liked, and right now, I wanted at least a taste of that.
“Sure,” I said, smiling, and he smiled with me.
“Well, c’mon then.”
He drewme away from the fire, the cool night air soothing my skin, right up until he took my hand in his.
“I’ve always thought you were so fucking pretty, Riley.” I paused at that, and Clayton turned, looking down at me and smiling at my obvious look of shock. He stepped closer then, his hand sliding up behind my neck, just stroking the skin there. “So many of the guys do. You’re so hot, with those amazing legs and this fucking red hair…”
This, I needed this weirdly crude, harshly breathed ode to my charms more than anything else tonight, and as a result, the guy had my complete attention. He smiled then, his cockiness a pale echo of theirs, but I didn’t care. He was a beta, he was here, and he was telling me I was pretty. He was exactly what I needed. I had to respond in some way but I had no experience with this, so I just tilted my head, grazing his arm with my cheek, but that seemed to be enough.
“I really want to kiss you right now,” he said, before swooping in and doing just that.
I’d heard plenty of horror stories from other girls, of wet sloppy kisses or tongues seeking to do interdental work, but I considered myself lucky here. Clayton’s hands surged around me, tugging me close until I felt dwarfed by his long, lanky body. He seemed to know what he was doing, claiming my mouth as his, then moving slowly in these little nipping movements, ones I could anticipate and meet before they teased my mouth open. Then his tongue slid against mine, sending a bolt of something intense shooting through me, making me shiver, right up until he pulled away.
He saw my breathlessness, my wide eyes, and he just smiled, then took my hand again.
“My car’s over here.”
“We’re not driving anywhere, right?” I asked, some moment of self-preservation forcing me to remember that drunk driving equals bad.
“No, we’re not going anywhere.” As if to illustrate that, he unlocked the rear door of his car, ushering me into the backseat, only to follow me in.
Oh, I thought as he loomed over me, his mouth seeking mine and finding it like two magnets snapping together. Kisses, searing kisses set me alight, making me wonder why the hell I hadn’t done this sooner.
Oh right, I remembered why.
No!my conscious brain snapped, or was it my subconscious? Whichever one had the wheel, I leant into this, into him, into the sharp whistle of Clayton’s breath, the desperate clawing of his hands through my hair, loosening my braid until my hair fell in a heavy curtain around me.