Temptation

Chapter Thirteen

                    I catch up with her as she rings the doorbell. We wait awhile then Zoey opens the door with an exuberant smile. “Welcome, welcome party people!” Zoey greets us warmly, Kathy shoves past her coldly, and I look apologetically at Zoey before I squeeze inside.

                    “Kathy, Kathy darling what’s wrong?” I hear Zoey inquire after her.

                    I look around the place, I couldn’t take much in because all that was in front of me was gyrating bodies, and the only thing I could appreciate was the beautiful glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A curved staircase was flanked on either side of the foyer, and I was just imagining what lay ahead beyond the stairs.

                    The music was so loud that I could feel the vibration throughout my body. I shuttered, as I pushed past the sweaty bodies.

                      I make my way into the kitchen. Which like the rest of the house—is stunning. All the countertops are granite, all appliances stainless steal, and the pendant lights are apple green illuminating the island countertop where kids were doing Jell-o shots.

                      I spot the red Solo cups and saunter over to them, taking one out of the plastic. I grabble for my sharpie in my bra and pen my name across the cup. Smiling satisfactorily, I turn and fill the cup with water.

                    I go out into the living room where people are chatting and partying. I stand around awkwardly, smiling when people look in my direction, and making sure to nod to the loud music being played.

 I felt someone gently tug my wrist. My eyebrows knit as I look over. It was a slightly above average heighted boy with chestnut brown hair parted down the middle and combed over to either side, his hair touching his ears, some fringes of it hanging over his eyes greenish hazel eyes.

                    “Hey sexy,” he shouted.

                    “Oh hey,” I say self-consciously, discreetly tugging my wrist away and backing up a bit from this stranger. He had, had drink or two—I could smell it on his breath.

                   “Are you from around here?” he shouted.

                    I laugh lightly. “Yeh, I grew up in this town. I lived here my whole life.”

                   He gives me a shocked look but nods not feeling to press on. “So, what’s your name?”

                   “Fallon,” I holler over the music, “You?”

                   “Brandt,” he flashes me a disarming white smile.

                     He began to dance against me and I awkwardly follow along. I never grinded with a guy—this felt so wrong because all I could think about it what my mother and father would think….but it then again felt so right. His lips were at the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he murmurs, nipping at my ear. I shutter and feel like putty in his embrace as he leads me into what appears to be a sunroom.

                  He closes the blinds to the room that outlook the living room, and turns to face me with a mischievous grin. I take a seat on the tangerine colored couch in the room. He takes my cup and fills it with alcohol out of the keg sitting in the corner of the room. I choke up, “Liquor in a sunroom?—and I—I don’t drink.”