August & Colin | WRU series | book 1
We take risks. We make mistakes. We lie. We love. We hurt. We lose total control.
I took a risk. I paid the price.
I made a mistake. I felt the guilt.
I lied. I lie.
I loved. I try not to.
I hurt. I still do.
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The smell of beer floats into my nostrils as I squeeze myself into the crowd inside the modern house. Music blasts through my ears making it hard to understand anything Brooke is trying to tell me, so I just follow her between the drunk students, kissing people, and a guy holding a bucket like his life depends on it.
Gross.
My eyes are so trained on my surroundings I don't realize what is happening in front of me causing me to bump into Brooke who had stopped in the middle of the hallway to give me a judging look. "Stop fidgeting with your skirt." My eyes drop down at the outfit she told me to wear and the itching feeling inside my chest grows when I see how bare my legs are and how deep the cut in my white silky top is.
"Are you sure it isn't too short? I feel like everyone can see my but cheeks." As my self-conscious words leave my mouth I wiggle my skirt a little lower and pull my top a little higher to try to make the V-neck seem a little less deep. She immediately slaps my hands away before pointing her finger at me.
"Stop it. You look sexy, you look amazing, and if anyone thinks any different they're fucking blind." I open my mouth to argue with her but she stops me before a single sound can come out. "Don't you dare say any different." I press my lips on each other knowing that my chances of winning an argument against Brooke are below zero. The first couple of times I tried to fight her by stepping into the argument and trying to prove her wrong not knowing it was an endless mission. We would end up discussing certain topics for hours until I, as I quickly realized, had to settle down in defeat. Just as I do right now by raising my hands as a sign of defeat.
"Fine," I say rolling my eyes, getting an accomplished grin in return.
"Thank you very much, now follow me so I can clear your head from your job-related thoughts and fill it with my amazing cocktails." She grabs my hand and pulls me deeper into the crowd. Although my mind is protesting against her proposition, my feet don't seem to attempt to run in the other direction.
She suddenly comes to a stop pulling me beside her before she theatrically spreads her arms in front of what must be at least 20 bottles of alcohol.
"Voila, my lady." Her thick theatrical accent is the finishing touch to her little performance that she ends with a delicate bow. "Now, you may pick your medicine to cure you from having pity parties." I can't help but chuckle and shake my head at the thought of how grateful I am for the crazy loving creature standing in front of me.
"So what will it be, my lady? We have a little tequila for the little craziness in all of us," she winks at me before moving on to the next bottle. "Here, we have the beautiful Bacardi, the key element for a mojito. Sweet and safe." She leans in holding her hand in front of her mouth to make sure no one hears her following words. "Unless you lose track of how many you already drank of course." A laugh bubbles up knowing she is speaking from experience, but before I can make a teasing comment about it she is already presenting her next recommendation. "Here we have, in my opinion, the perfect one for you. Sweet, sexy, and if you want, a message for any hot guy." She winks as her hand hovers in front of the bottle of vodka and I playfully roll my eyes as I suddenly make the connection with her last comment. Sex on the beach. A sweet taste, a sexy name, and a message if you want it to be one.
