White Lies (Book 1)

Chapter 7

"Come on," he leaned down so our faces were inches apart. "Come to my place. Please? My parents are off on a trip and my house feels so empty without you."

I glanced around nervously, trying to slow my rapidly beating heart, and wondered if anybody had noticed us. Nope. Jesus, I thought, how can they all be oblivious to such an overt display of harassment?

"Is that a yes?" his eyes met mine, overconfident and amused. Our faces were a breath away from each other. My eyes were widening, and I suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

The bell rang, shrill and demanding, making us jump apart. I leaned away and shakily stood up to gather my books. I could hear my heart pounding inside my chest.

"Maybe," I mumbled and sharply turned to the door, not looking back behind to see whether he heard me or not. I shook my head, trying to decipher exactly what emotion was currently racing through my veins.

As it turned out, I did end up going to the party.

It sucked. It's a wonder why people even liked parties. It was loud and cluttered and crowded and chaotic and messy. I pressed myself against a corner in one of his massive kitchens spread across the mansion. Mansion was definitely the apt term for what his 'house' was.

The smell of alcohol and sweat was making me nauseous. I had no idea why I had decided to come, but I was quickly realizing that it was a bad idea.

"Griffin's here! I just saw her—"

I quickly ducked around to avoid being seen by whoever that booming voice belonged to. I sat huddled behind the kitchen counter, kept company by a fallen corn chip on the marble tiles.

I took a deep breath and waited. Several deep breaths later, I mustered the courage I had to lift myself up from where I sitting and push through a crowd of drunk, horny teenagers.

I was so close to an exit. So close to not being spotted. So close to home–

"I knew you'd come."

The voice carried itself even over a loud crash of cymbals. I froze. Nathan was behind me, and I had no real strength to turn around and face him.

"Yeah, I was just about to leave." I hastily walked the remaining steps and reached for the door handle. I heard rushed footsteps down a flight of stairs, and a pale arm shot through my vision to grip my hand.

"Don't go," Nate said tightly. There was something stuck in his throat. Something I'd never heard before.

It was slow work, but I did it. I turned around to face him.

His handsome face was strained, showing none of his trademark arrogance. There was no hint of Nathan's easy charm. His sudden transformation completely startled me out of my plans to leave. There was something I hadn't seen before.

A brokenness I hadn't seen yet witnessed so openly, so completely.

My voice cracked. "N-Nate, are you alright?" I felt inadequate and speechless. I was treading in fast waters with no clue on how to swim.

He showed no hint of intoxication, which make me do a double take. Was I seeing this right? "What's wron—?"

I couldn't finish. He reached down and kissed me.

I pulled back harshly, unable to believe—to process— to—

"Nate—"

His hand fisted my pale hair and mashed our lips again, pouring out whatever anger he felt into the kiss. I didn't pull away this time.

It was my first kiss. My first lasting feel of a person's heat and skin and teeth being so close to mine. It was wetness and pressure and boy – a boy, with his lips over mine. Hands in my hair.

Lie lie lie lie lie.

Pressure lips teeth tongue body his body his oh god oh—

The shock had left. My body knew what it wanted before I did, and I held on to his neck and felt the tension there. I was slipping. This was what slipping felt like.

His hands came to my hips, and it should have hurt. But I couldn't feel a thing. I didn't care about the party and I didn't care that I was just about to leave. Everything fell away.

He pulled away and broke through the fog, breathing harshly. His hand felt the heat of my face, and my own harsh breathing finally came into my focus. "Don't lie about this one, Jess. I want you and I want you to stay, but you can still leave."

I didn't want to leave. Fuck leaving.

The sheer improbability of the situation struck me, and the clarity of it all wasn't lost. I was doing this. This was Nathan Ericson, and he said he wanted me.

I wanted him too. Whatever that meant.

My chest pressed against his with every rapid rise and fall. No going back. I stared unseeingly at the strange look of his eyes. I gripped his hand and said nothing, and he understood.

Grabbing my hand and leading me up the stairs sealed my mysterious fate ahead. I didn't protest. I willingly followed, stumbling blindly.

A trembling began in the pit of my stomach, radiating outwards to the lungs and heart, to the toes and finger tips. Red! Caution! Turn around, turn around, said the terrible fear. I knew that fear well.

No. I won't. This is different. This isn't him.

Once we managed to drag ourselves up the long staircase, he pushed me against the nearest wall. I greedily met his lips, high on whatever emotion that was making my blood burn and my head reel.

I was frying my brain on this stuff.

He kissed me so hard I could taste blood. I didn't know who's it was, and I didn't care. His hands roamed my body aggressively.

I wrapped my legs around his waist. Without breaking the kiss, he started walking. My back hit a hard surface. He opened a door and stumbled our body weight into what lay beyond.

It felt so good to want. To use my body in this way.

That night was a haze of images. I don't exactly remember every detail. All I remember were the important details. Smooth skin sliding across one another, lips and tongues tangling, hungry blue eyes, and the aggressive sound of music over the walls that seemed to match our pace. And sensation. Lots and lots and lots of sensation.

No going back.