Conceited (Crimson Elite 3)

Who knew someone could be attracted to forearms? I didn’t. Now I do.

Tanned, muscly, perfect forearms. I wipe at my mouth to tell myself to stop drooling.

Then he turns, his dark eyes land on me and I smile despite myself. His eyes rake me over and his lip lifts just a fraction before he looks to my left where his sister is standing. He shakes his head and turns back around. A part of me deflates, dies on the inside, so I do the only thing I can think of to numb it—grab the bottle from Tracey and take another long sip. She reaches for it but I keep drinking until I know I’m about to throw it all up, then pass it back to her.

I step off and walk to where Falcon and his friends situated and stand in front of them, pushing my chest out so he has to notice me.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Ariel, you got boobs,” Echo says smiling wide.

Falcon’s eyes fall to my breasts then back to my face. “You should cover up.”

My hand falls to my hip and I have to hold the bench to steady myself. “I think… no.” My hands touch them on either side as I push them together right in front of his face. He looks, of course, he’s a guy. I glance at all four of them individually. Darby’s on his cell. Creed’s holding a bottle of beer but not drinking it. Echo’s smiling like he won a bet. Falcon, though, he’s almost unreadable except the clenching of his teeth.

“You guys have fun now.” I go to walk off and stop when a blonde walks past me, brushing my shoulder and almost making me tip over. Her hands go around Falcon’s neck and she purrs in his ear.

“Purrs! Who the fuck does that?”

“Cat’s do,” Echo says smiling as each and every one of them looks straight at me.

Fuck! I said that out loud.

The girl is baring her teeth at me, but Falcon isn’t even touching her. It’s her doing all the work. He looks at me like he wants to tell me to go to my room and stay there.

“Bye,” I say, waving them off and walking into my living room where it’s deafening. Everyone is dancing. Garret, our local school DJ, has my mother’s sound system out and he’s controlling the music. I try not to cringe at that fact as she loves her music and even I’m not allowed to use it.

Hands touch me and I’m pulled into a circle of our jocks—boys who I think are cute but aren’t him. Falcon. I’ve dated a few, however they never last long. Hell, I almost slept with one. That didn’t work out.

I turn my head to find exactly where he is. Falcon hasn’t moved from his spot in the kitchen, apart from where he’s looking. His attention is now directed at me with the same cat purring woman hanging off of him.

Jealousy is a bitch, this I learned a long time ago. Falcon is known to have a parade of women. He’s the whore of the group and it’s just my luck that it’s him I’m attracted to. I stay where I am most of the night, on the floor with the guys giving me drinks every time the one in my hand is empty. I’m sweating and dancing. Bodies are all around me. Tracey tries to pull me out a few times, but I don’t want to move. When I’m dancing, at least I’m not thinking about him and his cat purring bitch over there.

Hands wrap around me and I squeal, touching them with my own. Opening my eyes I see almost everyone’s gone. When did that happen? Turning, Falcon has a hold of me as I notice Tracey’s asleep and lying on my very messy couch.

“Fuck, they are going to kill me,” I groan.

“Who, Raven?” His nickname for me still sends shivers down my spine as pinpricks scatter over my skin. I asked him once why he calls me Raven. He merely pointed to my hair and never said another word.

“It’s destroyed, the house is destroyed. Whose smart idea was this?”

His hand reaches up and wipes at my face. I brush his hand away, not wanting him to touch me, not when I can’t have him, it’s just unfair. Then I do the same thing he did and move the hair away while feeling the tears soaking my face. I’m crying.

“You should go to bed, Raven.”

I nod and glance around the room. Everything’s blurry now that I have my eyes open and am standing still. I almost fall, but he catches me then lifts me into his arms. His body moves and with each step I feel his taut muscles. When he reaches the steps I nestle in closely, clinging to him tightly and loving the way he smells. Fuck, his scent is all man. I’m wrecked for life—no other man will smell as good as he does. None.