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Her smile is sweet as she glances back at me, her feet already out of the door. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
“We could just go home. I’ll get Beth to make us burgers and those waffles with the s’mores sauce you like,” I coax, tugging on her arm and pulling her back to me.
Her laugh is light and trilling. “This party was your idea,” she reminds me.
“Well, I’m an idiot.”
“Come on, the guys are waiting for us. We can leave early if you want to, or you can go home now, and I’ll hang out with the others for an hour then leave,” she suggests, her expression open and honest.
“No, fuck that. I’m not letting you go in there on your own,” I snarl, not sure why I’m being a caveman about this.
“I wouldn’t be on my own. Kip, Thorn, and Davis are all in there.”
“No. Hell fucking no,” I say, twisting around and shuffling along the seat toward her.
Rolling her eyes, she effortlessly climbs from the car and waits on the curb for me to follow her. Scrambling out, I reach for her the moment I’m upright, relieved when she easily molds against my body, letting me guide us both into the building.
The sound of the party hits us the moment the elevator doors open into the opulent apartment. A DJ is set up in the corner of the living room, and waiters are circling with champagne, followed by a girl dressed only in a bikini giving out shots in test tubes.
“Jesus, it looks like every apartment from MTV Cribs has thrown up over this place,” I hiss, scowling at the gaudy décor. “Fucking new money.”
“Wow, could you sound any more pretentious?” Izzy mocks, spotting Thorn out by the pool and waving at him.
“Yes, I absolutely could,” I say, arching my eyebrow and smirking. “Let’s get a drink.”
She nods, and I help her navigate the crowds of teenagers until we find the bar, manned by a bartender who looks to be barely older than us. “Can I get a Manhattan and…” I turn to Izzy. “What do you want, Ghost?”
“Can I just get a club soda for now, please?”
“And a club soda,” I say, turning back to the bartender.
Taking the drinks when he hands them to me, I drop a bill in his tip jar and pass Izzy her glass. “Did I tell you how hot you look tonight?” I whisper, nipping at her earlobe.
“I think you’ve mentioned it once or twice.” She smirks, blinking up at me from beneath her dark lashes.
“These shorts.” Reaching down, I palm her ass, sliding my fingertips under the hem of her indecently short shorts.
“Are the most comfortable shorts I’ve ever owned. I already texted Fitzy to see if they make them in any other colors. If they do, I’m getting them all,” she coos excitedly.
“God, please let them come in white. Fuck that. If they don’t, I’m going to contact the designer and offer them an exorbitant amount of money to make you a pair in white,” I say, dragging her body into mine and pushing my hard dick against her stomach.
“I’m not letting you fuck me at a party where anyone could walk in or record us. Becoming internet porn stars is not going to help our cause.” She laughs, pushing at my chest until I reluctantly allow her some space.
“Fine, let’s go be sociable, but you’re going to have to sit on my lap,” I groan.
Her laugh ricochets through me, filling all the bits that were bitter and angry and making them smile. I don’t know how it happened so quickly, but I’ve fallen for my Little Ghost, and I don’t think I’m even trying to fight it anymore. She’s mine, and I plan to do whatever I need to do to keep her.
The party isn’t too bad until Penelope and her minions arrive. I’m surprised to see her here; she doesn’t normally come to stuff like this where her parents aren’t shoving her at an eligible guy all night.
When she spots her sister, Izzy stiffens, watching as Penelope grabs two glasses of champagne from a tray and downs them one after the other. Dumping the glasses, she grabs another one and a shot from the shot girl. She throws the shot down, fist-pumping and woo-wooing like a sorority girl on spring break.
“Is she normally like this at parties?” Izzy asks me quietly.
“I don’t think so. She doesn’t normally come at all. She likes the more dignified events,” I say drolly.
As we watch, Penelope drinks four more glasses of champagne and three more shots before throwing her hands into the air and dancing exactly where she is while the people around her stare.
Jumping out of my lap, Izzy storms across the room to her sister before I have a chance to stop her. Approaching Penelope cautiously, she catches her when she staggers slightly to the side. Twisting her head, Izzy finds me across the room, and I stand and make my way to my girl and her drunk ass sister.
