Tightrope

Shots

I'd had fun with Jace tonight, really, truly, but Knight had been driven from my side by these psychopaths, and I didn't appreciate people treating my friends like that.

"Don't do anything violent," Hartley whispered in my ear. I felt his closeness with a spark of awareness that made my nerve endings spark.

"But I love violence," I whispered back. Then I pouted. "And I don't have anyone to take it out on anymore."

Hartley grinned. "Give me a shot or two, and then I'll let you hit me. Outside."

"Why, Hartley, you kinky motherfucker."

He shoved me. "Oh, shut up."

I smiled and kept walking, past Knight's parents without even a rude glance in their direction. I still hated them, but somehow, the presence of the guy who'd elicited feelings of intense rage and anger my whole life now calmed me. Weird.

The patio doors of the country barn that Elena and Jack had converted into a stunning wedding venue opened into a small garden on their farm. It was where Holly grew vegetables and tended a cute flower garden. There were a few guests milling around the yard—mostly couples looking for a quiet spot to chat—but it was mostly empty. The rest of the crowd was inside, eating and drinking and dancing and laughing.

It was chillier outside, and the only light to see by was provided by a few dim strings of fairy lights surrounding the doorway, but anywhere further into the garden was cast in a thick shadows.

I pointed to a row of hedges just beyond the reach of the light. "Let's go behind there before my mum sees me."

"Doesn't she let you drink?"

"She does," I said. "Just not as a bridesmaid at my cousin's wedding."

"What a spoilsport."

I led Jace behind the hedges, squatting down on the grass behind. It was cosy and small, behind the thick hedges were pressed against a brick wall that left a small gap that allowed us to avoid a face full of leaves, but probably not enough room for Jesus.

Jace came and spread his jacket out on the ground, and we both sat huddled on the fabric, pressed close together to avoid grass stains on our asses and to conserve the heat. The breeze was cool and refreshing after the dancing, but if we sat too long, I was sure we'd begin to freeze.

"Did you lead me here to accost me?" Jace asked.

"You have to stop asking that every time I take you somewhere to hang out," I said, leaning into him slightly.

"We have hung out alone, like, four times, and we have made out on two of those occasions. You have a 50/50 accost ratio."

"Didn't we establish that you accosted me?"

Jace looked at me innocently. "Don't recall that conversation."

"That's because you're a dick," I said matter-of-factly, sticking my hand down my top with purpose.

Jace pointed a finger at me. "Accosting! This is accosting!"

I freed the little shots with a triumphant grin.

"And now you're trying to get me drunk. You are so determined to have your way with me," said Hartley. He still plucked it from my hand and unscrewed the lid, downing it in a single motion with only a slight wince. "God, that stuff tastes like poison."

"And you thought I was trying to have my way with you," I said. "I was trying to poison you this whole time. The friendship was a ruse to get you to trust me."