Three songs later and we make a move back to the booth. I put my arm on the seat behind Kayla and she moves closer to me, our sides completely touching, her hand lightly on my leg.

A few minutes after we sit down, a bartender brings a drink over and places it in front of Kayla.

It's some bright green drink in one of those shakers.

Her eyes widen for a second, confusion on her face.

I stare at it, eyebrows drawn together.

What the fuck?

My gaze goes from the drink to her, and she's looking at me. Who the fuck would buy her a drink when I'm right. fucking. here.

Did she talk to some asshole while I had my back turned? When she was out on the dance floor for like, a minute, before I was there?

She must get what I'm thinking because she shakes her head no. It's a small movement, but I see it.

Just as she's about to ask the bartender, he points to a guy a few tables away. He's sitting with a bunch of other guys around our age. I don't recognize them.

I watch her face as understanding dawns and slowly, a smile pulls on her lips and she looks down at her hands, almost shy. She picks up the drink, takes a sip, and stands up.

She walks over to the guy without a word.

What the fuck?

Logan pulls his mouth away from his girl for the night. "You know that asshole?"

"No, you guys know who he is?" I ask mainly Cam and Dylan.

Dylan speaks up, "Looks familiar but I can't place him."

The whole time she's talking to him, I'm watching.

Creeper.

They talk for a while, both smiling at each other.

Then he leans down and says something close to her ear and immediately her expression changes. She looks almost sad, but when he pulls back she nods her head a few times and his hands move to rub her upper arm.

I'm so close to standing up and punching this guy for touching her.

When she makes her way back, with drink still in hand, she doesn't say anything.

Not one fucking word. Just acts like nothing has happened. No explanation as to who that asshole is, nothing about what they talked about. Nothing.

***

The shit with Kayla and that guy pissed me off, so I take it out on myself. I drink. And drink. And drink.

By whatever the fuck time it is, I'm beyond buzzed and a little more on the drunk side. I'm at the bar, ordering another beer. I haven’t spoken to Kayla since she came back from speaking to that asshole.

"Jake, is that you?"

I turn around to see Madison, this girl I went to high school with. Her dad's the baseball coach. She's a cool girl. Knows her shit when it comes to baseball, that's all we've ever talked about.

She's cute, but she's in no way even close to Kayla.

"It is you!" she squeals, before running up and giving me a hug. She's obviously drunk, her face is splotchy and her breath reeks of alcohol.

I hug her back, but it's more like holding her upright.

"You okay, Madison? Had a bit to drink have ya?" I chuckle.

Her arms haven't left my neck and I'm doing my best to keep her up.

She moves closer into me, and I think for a second that this isn't what I think it is. That maybe she's not so much drunk, that she just wants to be close, and then she says, "I was hoping I'd see you before you left for college, I've always wanted to fuck you, Jake Andrews.”

My eyes bug out and I try to pull her off me, but her mouth attacks my neck and the one second she's there feels like fucking hours, and that whole second I'm thinking, what the fuck?

It was only a second, but a second is all it took, because when I look up, I see her, Kayla, watching this play out, and I'm sure in her head it played out completely wrong, because she looks at me, tears already in her eyes.

She turns around and walks away.

And I watch her.

***

*Mikayla*

Seriously, fuck my life.

There's only so much shit I can take before all the fucked up things in my life consume me.

Chapter 28

*Mikayla*

Once I've managed to stop the tears and clean myself up, I take a few deep breaths and open the restroom door, and he's there.

Standing just outside, leaning against the wall, one foot on the wall, hands behind his back, looking down.

When he senses me, he looks up, a sad smile creeping on his features.

I try to smile back, but I don't know that it shows.

I start to walk back to the others, but he grabs my arm and starts to say something.

Guys coming out of the mens room walk towards us and Jake has to move us against the wall so they can get through.

So here we are. Me leaning against the wall, him in front of me.

When the guys pass he doesn't make a move to step back and I let him stand there, in front of me, so close were almost touching.

One hand resting against the wall next to my head, the other by his side.

He reaches his free hand up, and he cups my face gently, and I can't help lean into him slightly.

He moves his body closer to me so that our fronts are pressed together. He dips his head so his mouth is so close to my ear, I can hear him breathing over the sounds of the club. "Whatever you're thinking that was, quit. It wasn’t.”

And then he takes my earlobe in his mouth, just slightly and it's enough to make my knees weak and my body give out.

But he's on me and holding me up as his mouth moves from my ear to the spot behind it, to my neck. My hands reach to grip his hair. He takes the hand that was cupping my face and moves it down my side, past my waist and hips to my bare thighs and he lifts it so it's around him and he's in between me.

Leaning against a fucking wall.

In a fucking club.

With people all around us.

And I forget what my fucking name is because I'm so goddamn turned on right now, and I know he is, I can feel that he is.

My head falls back slightly and a moan escapes, because being with him, like this, it's all so intense, physically and emotionally.

He takes my move as an invitation, and his kisses get less gentle and more extreme. He's kissing and licking and sucking. Sucking hard like he wants to leave his mark, like he wants the world to know I'm his. And I am. His, I mean.

Just when I'm about to grip his hair to bring his mouth to mine, because I need to kiss him, and we've never ever kissed before-

"Holy shit!"

Jake's hand immediately lets go of my thigh and he uses it to cup the back of my head and pull my face to his chest.

He knows I'm embarrassed.

I turn slightly and move my eyes to see who interrupted.

Some guy I don't know, stands frozen just outside the mens room. The restroom doors open and two other guys walk out and bump into the back of him. The smell of weed pours out with them.

"Jake fuckin' Andrews,” one of the guys sing songs.

Jake nods once at them, no emotion on his face.

"Holy shit, dude," another says, his eyes roaming me. “You got fire!"

The guys walk past and all pat his back on the way out, laughing to themselves.

Jake pulls me back to look at him, "You okay?"

I nod, blushing a little. "What does that mean? You got fire?"