“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” I suggest.
“No, wait.” Sylvie is no longer dancing, even though the music is still playing. She’s glaring in Summer’s direction, trying to catch her attention when Summer finally looks over at us, offering a little wave as she starts to leave with Bryan.
“Summer, what the hell are you doing?” Sylvie asks.
“I’ll be back,” Summer says, pointing at the back of Bryan’s head, mouthing,he’s cuteand giving her two thumbs up.
“Don’t go outside with him!” Sylvie practically screams, but Summer ignores her. She sends me a pleading look instead. “We should do something.”
I shrug. “What can we do? She’s a big girl. She can handle herself.”
“She’s drunk. I need to talk to Whit.” She starts to leave and I grab her hand, stopping her.
“Don’t get in the middle of their business,” I warn her, my voice low. The song changes yet again, this time a slow one. “Leave them alone, Sylvie.”
Her lower lip trembles and I swear she’s going to cry. “But she’s my friend.”
“And she knows what she’s doing. Don’t worry about her.” I touch her cheek, letting my thumb streak over her lower lip. “Want to get out of here?”
The worry slowly dissipates from her gaze and she nods. “Go back to my room?”
“Yeah.” I smile at her, pressing my thumb against her lips, making them part.
She nips at my skin before she turns away from me, snagging my hand and pulling me through the crowd until we’re walking out of the ruins, heading straight for the golf cart that still sits out front.
“You drive,” she says, and I settle in behind the steering wheel, waiting until she’s seated before I take off. So fast, she squeals into the darkness, her laughter filling the air.
I get high off the sound, unable to stop sneaking looks at her. I swear this is the happiest I’ve ever seen her, though some of that might also be because she’s drunk. She grips the side of the golf cart, her fingers curled around the bar as she leans to her right, the upper half of her body hanging over the cart and hovering over the path.
“Hey, get back in here,” I tell her, but she just shakes her head. Still laughing. Still hanging over the ground. One wrong move, one slip of her fingers and she’s tumbling out. She could get seriously hurt.
I let off the gas, slowing down. Until she’s leaning all the way back into the cart once more, sending me a frustrated scowl.
“Why did you slow down?” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, plumping up her tits as she leans against the back of the seat. Looking like an angry angel.
“I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.” I jerk the cart to the right, following the path that leads to the building where her suite is. She doesn’t have a room with the rest of us in the dorms—she’s a Lancaster.
They don’t board with us commoners.
“You worry too much,” she murmurs, tossing her hair back yet again. It’s wild tonight. Wavy and flying everywhere. I’m tempted to grab hold of it and give her a tug. Pull her into me, kiss her until she stops complaining. Until she forgets all about her troubles, her worries. Her pain.
This girl carries so much pain within her. She won’t come right out and say what it is, but I have my suspicions. I don’t trust her parents.
Specifically, her mother.
“You don’t get it,” she accuses out of nowhere, and I send her a questioning glance. “Your life is so perfect. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
If she only knew. No one’s life is perfect. Not hers, and definitely not mine.
I eventually stop the golf cart in front of the building, where both her and Whit’s suites are, and she hops out, striding toward the front doors without a backward glance. I press the cart brake into place before I’m chasing after her, snagging her hand before she grabs the door and disappears forever.
Those doors lock the moment they shut. Knowing Sylvie, she’d walk right through them and not let me in.
“What?” She whirls on me. “What do you want from me, Spence?”
I frown, still confused by her attitude. “I could ask you the same thing, Syl. You’re running hot and cold tonight. You want me. You want me to fuck off. Make up your mind.”
Her chest rises and falls as she glares at me, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “You know what I really want? To have fun and not worry all the damn time. I want to feel good. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve felt good? Felt healthy? A long time, Spencer. A really fucking long time.”