Conceited (Crimson Elite 3) - Page 4

“I don’t plan to ever again,” I say grabbing my water and going to my room.

“I think he may have other plans.”

I wave him off again, not listening to his ramblings as I shut my bedroom door. I should be angrier at Falcon than I am. Let’s face it—I hate him, he’s an asshole, a whore. The way he used to treat me makes me even wonder why I liked him to begin with. The only way he saw me was like an annoying little sister. And yet at the time, I still wanted him to kiss me. Not so much anymore.

“I bet he tastes like vanilla,” Chad screams as he bangs on my bedroom door, walking away.

My cell starts buzzing and Tracey’s name flashes on the screen. It’s not like her to call me this late.

“Hello?”

“Falcon’s annoying me for your number. He told me you said he could have it?”

“No.”

“That’s what I thought. Night.” She hangs up, thankfully without asking any questions.* * *Seventeen Years Old* * *When you crush on someone, it takes everything in you. All you can think about and dream about is them. My mother tells me it’s a phase, one I will grow out of. I can’t imagine doing so. I have a picture of him in my bedroom. Granted it’s with Tracey as well, but he’s there. She doesn’t know I crush on her brother, though she may have a faint idea. I’ve never confirmed it to her, though. Tonight, he’s home for the first time in a year and I’m itching to see him. I’ve been counting every second, picking through all my clothes to make sure everything’s just perfect. It has to be perfect. My boobs, the ones I didn’t have a lot of last time he left, are now fully grown. So, I pick the most revealing top I can find, match it with a short skirt which shows off my long legs and put on some make-up.

Tracey walks in, her eyes raking me over, and she shakes her head. “If you weren’t my best friend…”

I blush at her words. Why can’t her brother look at me like that? As we leave my bedroom, I give her a smile.

People have started to arrive from school, even people from one of the local universities are here as well. I wanted it to be big, so big that Falcon wanted to come and then his friends would also. Not that I care about them, but if they come I know he will. They go everywhere together, they’re never separated.

“Is your brother here?” I ask, careful not to look up at her. My eyes stay on my skirt as I play with the bottom of it hoping she won’t notice.

“Yes. But he’s brought someone.”

I look up then, and her face changes. She knows my secret, I know she does. Tracey shakes her head as she walks out of the room, then comes back in a few minutes later. I still haven’t moved from the spot I’m in, my hands still on my skirt.

“Drink this, it’ll help.” She hands me a bottle of vodka. Now, I need to be clear, I suck at drinking. Like, never really understood it or been good at it. It also makes me forget—which is the sole reason I take the bottle from her hands and drink as much as I can without throwing it all up.

Tracey grabs the bottle from my hand. “Slower, take it slow.” She takes a sip and I sit on the bed brushing my hair off my shoulders.

I look up at her gradually, my fake eyelashes fanning my face. “Do you think tonight will suck?”

She shakes her head. “No. We’re going to get shitfaced and dance all night, but tomorrow? Yeah, that will suck. Especially having to clean the place. Ewww.” She pokes her tongue out and hands me the bottle again but this time I take it slowly. I can feel the effects starting already. I stand, handing the bottle back to her as we make our way out of my room and down the stairs to where people are everywhere.

Shit! There are way more people here than I thought would come, my parents are going to kill me. I cringe when I see someone knock over a vase, and close my eyes when I notice mud on the tiles. Maybe I didn’t think this whole party thing through.

Tracey throws her arm around me and pulls me to the kitchen. I spot him straight away, though he has his back to me. Falcon is taut, strong. Anyone can tell that by merely looking at him, even fully clothed. He has on a dress shirt. Who the fuck wears a dress shirt to a party? Anyway. The sleeves are rolled up, exposing his beautiful forearms.

Tags: T.L. Smith Crimson Elite Erotic
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