“Yeah, it’s bigger than what we thought,” Zach said and looked over at his friends. They started laughing obnoxiously again and I was starting to think this might not have been a good idea coming here. This really wasn’t my scene. I was more of a bookworm, a stay-at-home kind of girl who wanted to be covered in a blanket watching some old romance on TV.
“Here, Ivy,” Marcus said and handed me a beer. I smiled, taking it but not really having any desire for it. For the next twenty minutes, I stood there nursing the beer until it got warm and started to make my stomach turn.
“Girl, are you still sipping on that one?” Zachary said and tipped the bottle up to my mouth. “Drink up, we got another one for ya.” Before I could say anything, warm liquid was rolling down my throat. He took the empty bottle and handed me a shot.
“Listen up everyone,” Marcus hollered. There was still music pounding but a moment later it lowered. “We got a birthday to celebrate.” Marcus tipped his chin in my direction. “Baby girl here just turned nineteen. We got a special birthday shot for her.” He held up the shot. “A buttery nipple.”
The crowd started hollering and shouting, cheering me on. Zachary gestured for me to take the shot from Marcus, and with everyone watching me I felt my face heat. The shot was this creamy coffee color with whipped cream on the top. It looked more like a dessert than anything else. How bad could it be if it looked so good?
I took the shot and smelled it. It was sweet, and I couldn’t really pick up on the strong aroma of liquor.
“Shot. Shot. Shot.”
The crowd yelled and hollered.
I tossed the shot back, the flavor of butterscotch instantly coating my mouth.
I hated butterscotch.
Zachary took the shot glass away and everybody started cheering. They acted like I’d just done a keg stand or something. I breathed out through the burn of alcohol, surprised that it was a hell of a lot stronger than I’d assumed. Someone handed me another beer and I took a long sip, trying to get rid of the nasty flavor in my mouth. I needed to slow down, to pace myself.
“Water,” I all but shouted to Georgia. She nodded and took my hand, pulling me toward the kitchen. I moved to the side as she pushed her way through the people and grabbed two bottles of water off the counter. My stomach felt queasy from the beer then taking the shot.
When she handed me one of the bottles, I cracked the cap and took a long drink. For the rest of the night I was sticking with water. Last thing I needed was to get drunk again, go home and run into Matthew, then deal with a hangover the next morning.
“Come on, let’s actually enjoy this party.” Georgia looped her arm through mine and grinned, leading us back into the living room.
Zachary and the other guys were in the process of bringing a keg into the house, metal clanging against pieces of furniture and the floor as they maneuvered it through the crowd of people and finally set it down in the center of the room.
It was like I was at a concert, people shouting and yelling, dancing and groping each other. I had no doubt there were people banging upstairs, in the bathrooms, hell, probably even right around the corner. I could practically smell the scent of sex filling the air.
And maybe at my age I should have been enjoying the party, making out with some random guy in the corner, getting felt up by one of the jocks. But instead I felt like a loner, an outcast. I felt like I didn’t belong, like where I should be was back at home, curled up on the couch and pressed up against Matthew, his arm around me and not a care in the world … least of all what people thought about a niece being in love with her uncle.
12
Matthew
I paced the kitchen, not caring if I was going to eventually leave a rut in the floor.
I brought the bottle of beer to my mouth and took a long drink, glancing out the window at the driveway where my truck was.
Reaching into my pocket and pulling out my cell, I stared at it. I wanted to go to her. It would be easy enough to find her, to make a few calls and see where she was. The town we lived in was small, and word spread around, especially if it was concerning a big-ass high school party.
But I didn’t want to break her trust. I didn’t want to embarrass her by making a scene, and I sure as fuck would.
What I wanted to do was find out where she was. I wanted to pull her out of that house and throw her over my shoulder, tell her I was doing this for her own good.