Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
To distract myself from the instinct, I took the first sip from my Bacardi. It was delicious and barely tasted of alcohol at all, which was probably dangerous, but I didn’t plan on having another so it was all good.
“Who gave you that?” Rhys asked, frowning down at the bottle.
“Don’t worry,” I chided, waggling my brows. “I’m of age. In this country, at least.”
“That’s not what I meant. There are all sorts of creeps about.” He angled his head to the rest of the party. “You can’t be too careful.”
My chest fluttered when I realised he was concerned about my drink being spiked. “Oh, right. It’s okay. Theo gave it to me. I watched him open it, and I haven’t set it down since, so it’s safe.”
Rhys rubbed his jaw, eyeing the bottle before his gaze came to rest on mine. “Good.” His voice was gruff. “Don’t accept drinks from anyone you don’t know here. In fact, don’t accept drinks from anyone you do know either.”
He seemed a bit stressed about the whole thing, and I was touched that he was so concerned for me. “So, I can’t even accept drinks from you?”
“You shouldn’t, no.”
“But I trust you. And besides,” I went on, unsure what came over me when I tilted my head in a flirtatious manner and poked him in the arm. “You wouldn’t need to spike my drink.”
I winked, and Rhys inhaled sharply, his eyes flaring in something like shock. Surprise?
“Oh my God, that was in incredibly poor taste,” I said, laughing nervously. “I have a bit of a dark sense of humour sometimes. I’m sorry.”
His tension dissipated a little, and he bobbed his head. “Right,” he said, voice tight, lifting his own drink, some brand of Irish beer, and slugging some back.
I briefly wondered what it would be like to kiss him, the faint taste of alcohol on his tongue. Man, what had gotten into me tonight? Maybe it was being in a house full of teenagers with raging hormones. The attraction I felt for Rhys had suddenly heightened.
The Kings of Leon came on, and Aidan jumped up, making eye contact with me as he began shimmying across the room towards us.
“Oh, no, something very bad is happening,” I declared, and Rhys chuckled low.
“Looks like Aidan wants a dance partner.”
“Yes,” I replied, prodding him in the side. “You better oblige him.”
“I don’t think I’m who he wants,” Rhys countered, clearly enjoying my discomfort. Well, I guess I deserved it after making that inappropriate joke.
Aidan threw up an invisible lasso, which he decided had landed perfectly around my waist as he began tugging me towards him.
“Sorry,” I said, thumbing over my shoulder. “You missed your mark. Your rope is on the floor over there.”
Again, Rhys chuckled, and I loved how the deep, husky sound landed low in my ears. Aidan shook his head. “No, it isn’t. Better come join me, Moretti. It’s my birthday wish.”
He continued tugging, and I gasped when a warm hand captured my elbow. “You heard him,” Rhys encouraged teasingly, and I shot him my finest scowl.
Across the room, Derek and Tristan appeared thoroughly amused by the scene playing out. I noticed a petite brunette sat close to Derek, his arm thrown over the back of the couch in a possessive manner though he wasn’t touching her. It was surprising since she was dressed more conservatively than the others in a calf length black skirt and burgundy cardigan. Her hair was so long it almost reached her hips. Nuala and Theo were too engrossed in conversation to notice what was going on. A few of the girls who’d been surrounding Aidan cast me displeased looks.
“I hate dancing,” I said through gritted teeth.
“No, you don’t. Come on, I’ll lead,” Aidan encouraged, undeterred.
I really did hate dancing. I always felt so awkward, unsure how to move my body, feeling like people were looking and judging. In this case, they would be, considering the amount of catty looks I was currently on the receiving end of.
Bothered by how much Rhys was enjoying this, I decided to turn the tables on him. It was an impulsive move when I rose and perched myself on his lap then threw my arms around his neck. As soon as I did, I felt him stiffen, his warm breath hitting the side of my neck. His hands rested at his sides, almost like he was afraid or perhaps too nervous to touch me. I turned back to Aidan.
“I can’t. Rhys will be very jealous. He doesn’t like me dancing with other men.” I fluttered my eyelashes coquettishly.
A brief flash of surprise then annoyance passed over Aidan’s features before two of the girls came and began tugging on his arm. “Come dance with us, Aid.”
They managed to distract him away, and I turned my attention back to Rhys, who seemed to be mesmerised by my chest, which was right around his eye level. A smirk pulled at the corners of my mouth as I leaned down and whispered, “What are you looking at?”