Lost in You (Lost in You 1)

“You’ll have fun.” I can’t respond because the door swings open and a very tall and extremely large man is standing there glaring at us.

“Names?” his voice is deep and rough, like he’s been screaming all his life.

Dylan gives him our names and he moves aside to let us in. This room is larger than my house. The people here don’t even take up an inch of the space. I don’t know if women like this kind of stuff, but I can tell you I’d never decorate my apartment like this; way too much gold.

Dylan spots one of the girls she was

talking to earlier and heads toward her. I guess she thinks I’m okay by myself. An older lady walks by and tells me to help myself to food and drinks. I see others eating so I make a plate, grab a soda and sit down away from everyone. Other than the guy at the door I’m the only male in the room.

I’m trying not to watch the clock, but I can’t help it. I’m bored and this is just awkward. All these women are giggling and talking fashion and I could really use the sleep. Dylan is in an in-depth conversation so I really don’t want to bug her. I pull out my phone and text that I’m heading to the room.

“Leaving so soon?” I turn and find Hadley… a girl I didn’t know existed until tonight, behind me. She caught me sneaking out of her party, not that I think she’d miss me.

“I was just going to my room.” My hand finds the back of my head but I quickly pull it down remembering how much Dylan hates it when I pull at my hair.

“I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier. I’m Hadley Carter,” she says extending her hand. When my hand touches her, I feel a jolt, like when you rub your socks on carpet and touch someone to shock them. I drop her hand immediately and put it in my pocket. “Would you like to go outside and talk? I’ve had a chance to speak to everyone but you.”

“Oh, I’m just here with my friend; she’s your fan.”

“And you’re not?”

I feel like I’ve been caught red-handed in the cookie jar. I didn’t mean to offend her. But the look on her face shows that I did.

“I’m—“

“It’s okay, we can still talk.” I nod for fear of hurting her feelings anymore. My luck, she’d write a song about some rude boy she met in Jackson who didn’t like her music but had the nerve to show up at her after-party and eat her food. She turns away and takes a few steps before looking at me from over her shoulder. I step forward and she smiles.

She fixes a plate of snacks and grabs a couple sodas.

“Want me to carry those?” I ask, holding my hands out for the soda. She places them in my hand, her fingertips lingering on my skin a bit longer than normal. I feel the charge again and wonder if she’s feeling it too.

She slides open the balcony door and closes it once I’ve stepped through. I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but the curtains have been drawn so no one can see us out here. Whoever closed them clearly didn’t see us walk out.

She sits down, pulling a chair close to her. I set the sodas on the small table and sit down across from her. Our knees are almost touching and close enough that we’ve created a table for her to place the plate on our knees. I feel this energy pushing me toward her, as if my body is telling me that I need to touch her.

“So, back to my music. You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not that. This was the first time I’ve heard it… or maybe the first time I’ve actually listened. Your show was really good though.”

Hadley’s eyes haven’t left mine since we sat down. She squints a bit when I tell her this is the first time I’ve listened to her sing.

“Have you lived under a rock? Sorry, that was rude. I’m just used to everyone being the biggest fan, so I don’t often run into someone who doesn’t listen.”

“It’s not just your music; I don’t listen in general.”

This time her eyes widen and her mouth drops even though she keeps her lips sealed. “How can you not listen to music?”

I shrug. “My parents don’t like it and I don’t have a radio. I mean, I listen when I’m in the car with my friend, but I can’t say I pay attention enough to know who I’m listening to.”

“Wow, that’s just so—“

“Odd, stupid, strange. That pretty much sums up my parents.”

Hadley reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. Of course it’s just like Dylan’s. She turns on some music and sets it down on the table.

“Well, your parents aren’t here now, are they?”

“No, definitely not.”