Untouchable (Haven Falls 1)

I glance across and cringe. What was I thinking? I agreed to go to a party with her tonight, but she said in order for her to be the designated driver, I had to get dressed up. I’ve only been trying on dresses for ten minutes and I’m already missing my ripped jeans and boots.

Though, when she suggested I wear a pair of heels, I drew the line. There will be no heels for me, not unless she wants to drive me to the emergency room with a broken ankle.

My eyes rake over the dress she holds up. It’s just a bit shorter than the one I’m wearing now, but at least this one doesn’t plunge down between my boobs. “Fine,” I tell her, deciding I’d rather flash my ass than my tits all night.

I strip off the skanky dress and pull the partially skanky one over my head before tugging it into place. Tully and I are the same size, but she doesn’t quite have the rack that I’ve got, so when this dress finally comes into place, my chest is nearly busting at the seams and threatening to spill out of the tight fabric.

I look myself up and down in the mirror and even I have to admit that I look damn good.

I fluff my hair a bit and let the golden strands fall straight down my back before pulling my leather jacket over the top, despite Tully’s objections. I mean, just because I’m wearing a dress doesn’t mean I have to freeze all night. I don’t care what those other girls like to do, I’m a little more practical than that.

I pull my boots back on and grin. I look badass while also looking like a damn fox. I like it. I wonder why I never tried this little black dress thing before. Hell, I look like the perfect arm candy for Noah.

Shit. I shouldn’t be thinking like that. There’s been a shitload of flirting, but nothing serious. He’s just playing with me, getting my hopes up.

“Where are the boys?” I ask, distantly realizing that the house seems a little too quiet. After spending every afternoon here since Tuesday, I’ve come to realize that no matter what, this house is always generating some kind of noise. Whether it be from Tully blasting music in her room, the boys competing like idiots against one another on the PlayStation, the cars being worked on in the driveway, or the TV on as background noise.

The boys had disappeared again yesterday afternoon and I didn’t bother asking where they’d gone as Tully suggested heading down to the beach, but now that they’re not here again, the curiosity is getting to me.

Tully steps up beside me in the mirror and bumps me across with her hip before leaning in real close to start on her mascara and eyeliner. “They’re at Noah’s race,” she says, holding her mouth open as she applies the makeup.

“Race?” I question, momentarily forgetting about the whole illegal racing thing he likes to do and silently kicking myself. I would have loved to go and watch him. I’ve been there a few times last year when he raced, but I was never really watching. I wasn’t invested in what went on in his life, but now… things are changing.

“Do you ever go?” I ask her as I rummage through her huge box of make up for a black eye shadow.

“Sometimes,” she tells me. “But it’s not really my thing. Watching him go around a track is actually kind of boring. You know, once you’ve seen him do it, you don’t need to see it again.”

“Oh, ok,” I say, trying to sound like I couldn’t care less while continuing to rummage.

“Why?” she questions, watching me in the mirror with slight suspicion. “Did you want to go?”

I keep my eyes trained down. “No, I just… I don’t know,” I sigh with a cringe before looking up and deciding to be honest about it, “maybe.”

“You’re starting to like him, aren’t you?”

Another cringe, not wanting to admit it because the last time I liked a friend’s brother, it ended up ruining a good thing. “I think so.”

She nods in understanding as a smile pulls at her lips. “I knew it,” she says. “But don’t worry, he never invites me to his races because he knows I find it boring. He probably just assumed you weren’t into it either.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” I tell her. “I’m not into racing…”

“But you’re into him and want to swoon over the Haven Falls bad boy while he dominates the track?”

“Damn it,” I laugh. “I really do.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she chuckles, lighting up the screen of her phone and double checking the time. “He’s probably racing about now, so we won’t make it tonight, but we’ll go next week for sure.”