I’ve lost everyone. I know they’re here somewhere but I don’t know where. The club seems bigger and more crowded than it was when we first got here. I wander through it, trying to find that VIP booth we were at earlier—I’d settle for even finding the VIP section. Some girl grazes my abs with her fake fingernails as I brush past her on the dance floor. I glance down. She’s cute—soft blond hair, big blue eyes, full chest and tiny waist. I smile down at her and keep moving. I just want to find my friends… and Rose.
After moving around almost the whole perimeter of the dance floor, I finally recognize someone—Cole. He’s got to be drunk because he’s on the dance floor with Leah. Cole never dances. Last I heard he was still trying to veto dancing at his own wedding. As I approach I realize he isn’t so much dancing as he is simulating tantric sex positions.
His hand is hooked under the back of Leah’s knee and he has her leg hitched up over his thigh. She does her best to appear like she is still trying to dance, but she is barely moving. Her arms are around his neck, her hands tugging on his hair and her lips ravaging his. I wish suddenly I had thought of grabbing Rose’s leg like that yesterday.
Fleur. Where is Rose? Is Avery all over her? Would she let him do that? She said that night at Mr. Goodbar in Silver Bay that she wanted to be with someone who liked her as more than a friend. Doesn’t she know that last night meant that I did? Even if I can’t do anything more about it.
How did I lose everyone, anyway? I went to the bar with Theo while she was in the bathroom and then I never saw her again. Then Theo ditched me. Maybe Rose needs me. I definitely feel like I need her. And that is wrong. I know it, but… what happened the night before felt right.
I reach Cole and tap his shoulder. He ignores me. I slap his shoulder. His eyes flutter open but his lips stay on his future wife. I shake my head and then notice one of Leah’s hands has snaked in between them. She’s got it firmly pressed up to the front of his pants.
“Guys! Public!” I dramatically shield my eyes.
Cole groans. “I’m sorry, I forgot you’re a born-again virgin.”
“I just don’t want you two kicked out or arrested,” I say and I mean it. People around them were starting to stare.
“We should go back to the hotel so I can fuck you senseless,” Leah coos in Cole’s ear and I roll my eyes.
“We’re leaving!” Cole announces with a smile.
I follow them as they make their way back to the table I couldn’t find on my own. Nobody is there but Theo, some girl I don’t know, Ashleigh and Devin. Theo is sitting at one end of the booth with the girl I don’t recognize sitting on his lap. Ashleigh and Devin are kissing and whispering in the opposite corner of the booth. His hands are tangled up in her hair and she’s smiling even though it looks like she might have been crying, but it’s probably just the effects of all the booze.
“Where is Rosie?” I demand, a little panicked and not able to hide it. “Where is Avery?”
“Avery left with Callie half an hour ago,” Theo informs me.
“Where is Rosie then?” I ask again, but with relief.
Devin looks up quickly and gives me a smile. “Go find out. I dare you.”
Cole grabs me by the back of the shirt and turns me around. “Let’s go back to the hotel. She’s probably there.”
I follow him and Leah the short distance down the boardwalk to our hotel. I feel like a ghost or something because they don’t acknowledge my existence; they just keep kissing and groping each other. In the elevator I become truly fearful Leah is going to give Cole a hand job right in front of me, as she positions her hand on the front of his pants again. He’s got a hand on her ass and his lips on her neck.
“Guys! I don’t want to see anything I can’t unsee!”
They continue to ignore me completely. The doors finally open onto my floor and without so much as a wave good-bye to the horny couple, I dart down the hall toward my room—and Rose’s room. My whole body melts in relief when I see her sitting on the floor, leaning against my hotel room door. Her eyes are closed and her perfect face is expressionless. I run right up to her and drop to my knees in front of her. “You okay, Fleur?”
Her eyes flip open quickly and she smiles at me. She reaches out quickly, wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me hard. I hug her back, burying my face in her hair.
“I’m good,” she insists with a bit of a slur to her words. “But my horny sister decided to use our room to get it on instead of Avery’s perfectly good, empty room.”
I laugh a little. “So you’re stuck out here?”
“Well, I’m not going in there while she has monkey sex!”
I laugh even louder at that. “Monkey sex?”
“Monkey sex,” she repeats with a sigh. “It’s all about the monkey sex.”
I stand up and grab her hands and pull her to her feet. Her torso hits mine and we both stumble a little. I pull out my room key, open my door and guide her inside.
“I don’t even have my damn pajamas or my toothbrush,” Rosie whines and flops down on her back across my bed. “He had his own room! She could have gone there!”
I walk over to my disaster of a suitcase in the corner and dig through the haphazard piles of clothes. I find a Las Vegas Vipers T-shirt and throw it toward the bed. It lands on her face. She giggles. God, she’s fucking adorable.
“And you can use my toothbrush.”
She sits up and my shirt falls to her lap. “Really?”
“Sure.” I shrug and laugh again. “I had my tongue in your mouth yesterday so sharing a toothbrush isn’t that big of a deal at this point.”
She turns bright red and covers her face with her hands. “What the hell did we do, Luc?”
I fall back, sitting on the floor beside my suitcase. She pulls her hands away from her face and steals a peek at me. I smile goofily. She smiles back. We stare at each other for a long second. “We probably shouldn’t try and analyze it when you’re even drunker than you were when it happened.”
She laughs. “Good point. When did you get all smart and everything?”
She heads into the bathroom, taking my shirt with her. She tips the door closed—not tight but enough to give her privacy. “I’ve always been smart. I just choose to act dumb. Chicks love the dumb jocks!”
I hear her laugh from behind the door. I stand up and pull my shirt off and then my pants and underwear. The idea that I am butt fucking naked and Rose could walk in at any moment gives me a rush.
I dig around in my suitcase again and find a pair of nylon workout shorts and pull them on. Normally I sleep naked but since I’m in a hotel room with one king-sized bed, naked isn’t a good idea tonight. Not that I don’t want to do it, it just isn’t a good idea.
Rose opens the bathroom door and looks at me self-consciously as her hands tug on the hem of the shirt, as if trying to make it longer. It hits her almost midthigh, which if you ask me makes it too long as it is. I grab the remote off the night table as she darts for the bed, grinning. In a flash she pulls back the covers and slides underneath them. I hand her the remote and then head over to the minibar and start throwing the junk food carefully placed on top over my shoulder toward the bed. She’s laughing as she attempts to catch the flying potato chips and chocolate bars.
I grab two bottles of water and flop down next to her on the bed—on top of the covers, of course. Underneath the covers would mean I could feel her bare thigh on mine and feel the navy blue lace underwear I had caught a glimpse of as she bolted for the bed. And that would be bad. I mean it would be good… in a very bad way.
Rose concentrates on flipping through stations as I rip open a Snickers. She lets out a small squeal as she lands on some movie with a weird-looking redheaded actress talking to some goofy-looking short kid with strawberry hair.
“What is this?”
“It’s Sixteen Candles. It’s a classic!” Rose explains with a big excited grin.
“It looks ancient.”
“It came out in the eighties. That actress, Molly Ringwald, was the poster child for romantic teen movies back then,” Rose explains, smiling. “This was my mom’s favorite one. I love it too. It’s so awesome!”
I try not to frown. Romantic movies are ridiculous. The characters always do stupid crap. And this one is so old everyone is dressed like dorks. But Rose looks ecstatic. I could sit through a garbage movie if it makes her look like that.
“What’s it about?” I ask and chew on my Snickers.
“This girl, Samantha, turns sixteen but her whole family forgets her birthday,” Rose explains. “And she likes this guy. He’s popular and rich and doesn’t know she exists. But to her, he’s perfect.”
I roll my eyes. I can’t help it. “Does he play hockey? Because he’s only perfect if he plays hockey. You should know that, Fleur.”
She knocks my shoulder with her own, smiling. “Okay, he’s almost perfect. And more important than all the rich, popular crap, he’s actually a really sweet, awesome guy. Like a hockey player I know.”
She winks and I smile back and fight a blush to my cheeks. I can’t blush like a girl. It would be stupid but her compliment gets to me. Rose always gets to me.
“Anyway, he’s dating someone else. A totally vapid annoying girl,” Rose goes on as she opens a bag of Sun Chips. “But then he finds out Sam likes him and… Well, that’s where we’re at, so just keep watching.”
I turn my eyes to the TV and do what she requested—I watch the movie. I actually start to get into it. It’s not a bad flick. There’s this really hysterical exchange student in it that makes me laugh out loud. But I don’t remember the end. At some point, after we’d finished the junk food and our waters, my eyes got heavy.
The next thing I know I’m floating back to consciousness, and all I can feel is Rose’s back pressed up to my front. My faced is pressed into the back of her neck and I’m breathing in the fruity scent of her shampoo and the musky, faintly vanilla aroma that has been Rose’s scent since she was a teenager. Just like always, it’s making my cock tingle. When did I get under the covers? How?
With my eyes still closed and my brain still fuzzy, I realize the T-shirt I gave her has hiked up. I know this because my arm is around her waist and there’s no fabric blocking the feel of her soft, warm skin against mine. I should move. I should pull away, but I’m so comfortable and she feels so good…
Rose moves, snuggling her back closer against my chest. The details of the movie float through my half-conscious brain and something hits me like a ton of bricks.
My eyes flutter open and find the clock on the table: 4:17 in the morning. I wait, forcing myself to stay awake, until it hits 4:34 a.m. because I know that’s when she was actually born. Last year when a bunch of us went camping for her birthday she made us stay up until that exact minute. There is some kind of infomercial for a revolutionary blender on the TV making background noise in the room and acting as the only source of flickering light. I hold tighter to her bare middle and move my face closer to her ear. As soon as the clock hits 4:34 a.m., I say her name.
“Rose.”
“Mmm.”
“It’s 4:34,” I whisper in her ear and then kiss it lightly. “Happy birthday.”
She slowly turns her body so she’s lying on her back. Her perfect pink rosebud mouth is pulled up in the corners in a lazy smile, but her eyes remain unopened. Her fingers are still tangled with mine. My arm is still across her exposed middle.
“You remembered,” she whispers happily.
I roll onto my back using our entwined hands to pull her over onto her side so she’s facing me. She takes the hint and curls herself easily into my side, her head lying on my shoulder, her right leg resting on top of my thighs. I let go of her hand and wrap that arm around her, securing her to me. She nuzzles me, her lips kissing my neck.
I turn my head and kiss her forehead, letting my lips rest there as I doze off again. I’m out for what feels like seconds but could have been minutes or even hours. I don’t know. I don’t look at the clock, or even open my eyes when I start to float back to consciousness. The light movement of her hand, which was flat against my bare chest, is what wakes me. It starts to move, over my left nipple, down my side, over my hip where it stops.
Using her hold on my hip as traction, Rose snuggles into my side. I can feel her bare stomach against my bare side. The warm, intimate space between her legs—protected by nothing but the thin navy lace I saw earlier—is wedged up against my other hip.
I slowly shift my body, so I’m facing her now. Her head slips from my shoulder to my bicep. Her leg falls from on top of my thighs but she fluidly moves it in between my legs. My arm around her starts to move, my hand sliding from her shoulder to her lower back and then down to the lace covering her ass. My eyes are still closed but I can feel her breath on my cheek. I know her face is inches from me. Her lips are inches from mine. She sighs lightly. I inhale deeply and tilt my head ever so slightly, until I can feel my lips brush over hers.
“Mmm.” The sound escapes from her throat like a quiet, deep purr.
I slide my hand from her ass along the back of her thigh and pull her tighter to me. I’m starting to get hard and, in this dreamlike state, I don’t care if she knows it. I don’t care about anything or anyone but her and how fucking amazing she feels splayed all over me as we paw at each other in half-sleep.
She moves her head, and this time her lips are grazing mine just like mine did to hers moments ago. Her hand moves to the side of my face and she holds my lips to hers. I open my mouth and reach out with my tongue, searching for hers. I find it easily. She was searching for me, too. The kiss is slow, dreamlike and sensual. Everything is overpowering me. I feel like I’m drowning in warm emotions and hot sensations and I don’t want to come up for air.
My hand moves back to her hip and I reposition her leg over both of mine and push my groin into her. My dick is throbbing and now she knows it. Her response is to move her hand away from my face, to my back and then my ass. She cups my ass and pulls me into her again, grinding her hips against my cock at the same time.
Our kissing turns from sensual and slow to needy and passionate. The need and want are pulling me from the reverie. My hand slides over her abdomen and moves upward, under her shirt, without hesitation. Her lips leave mine and move to my jaw, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses. I cup her bare breast and roll a thumb over her nipple. She gasps in my ear and pushes that hot little space between her legs into my erection again.
“Fleur,” I whisper.
“Don’t…” she murmurs, her lips moving over my neck. “Don’t wake up.”
My head rolls back involuntarily as her hand slides from my ass to the front of my shorts and skims my hard cock through the soft material. Upon first touch she freezes momentarily, and for a split second I worry despite her own command—she’s waking up from our erotic dream. But then she exhales, slips her tiny hand under my waistband, wraps it around my package and squeezes lightly. A breathy grunt rumbles in my throat.
My hand moves from her breasts southward down her torso and I slip my fingers under the lace. I brush by the small patch of hair and keep moving lower to her slit. She’s wet. Really wet. I made her wet. I’ve dreamed of this—over and over, so many times—and now it’s real. Or is it? Am I dreaming?
My eyes flutter open. Hers are open now too—barely, but they are. I don’t say anything. She doesn’t say anything. She just strokes me, once. Then twice. I slide a finger inside her. Her dark eyes flicker shut again and so do mine. This has to be a dream.