In His Bed (18+)

Chapter 46

I was sitting in the restaurant, wedged between Nate and Faith, listening as Owen and Zane dared each other to order the escargot, when Nate leaned over to me.

On breath that reeked of cinnamon schnapps, he whispered, "I just have to tell you, you look incredible tonight."

Raising my attention from the menu, I glanced aside, immediately noting his attempt at "bedroom eyes".

Oh, god.

"Thanks. You don't look bad yourself." I tried to keep my tone as neutral as possible, hoping he would catch the hint.

He didn't.

Instead, beneath the table, his hand found its way onto my knee as he murmured, "So, I was wondering what your plans were for after prom?"

Oh, hell no.

Cooly returning his gaze, I picked his hand up and set it back on his lap. Loudly, I asked, "That's a good question - what were we thinking about after prom?"

Next to me, Faith perked up, "Well, I mean, Owen, do you think we could hang out at your uncle's cabin again?"

"Um," Owen hesitated, "I was actually thinking that the official after party sounded fun?"

Faith frowned, "Excuse me?"

"I mean," he shrugged, "we already paid for the tickets, and there's going to be, like, an inflatable obstacle course and jousting arena-"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, "We could be drinking by a fire under the stars, and you want to play kiddie games at our school with our teachers?"

Owen scanned his eyes around the table, looking for support, "Look, we can go drinking whenever, but I'm not going to get many opportunities to beat Mr. Thompson with a foam stick, you know?"

Mr. Thompson, our school's much loathed chemistry teacher, had seemingly spent the entirety of his twenty years in the profession honing his ability to torture students.

On the other side of Faith, I heard Zane agree meekly, "He's got a point."

Turning, Faith demanded, "Does he?"

Showing a backbone I didn't know he possessed, Zane doubled down. "Yeah. We've got all summer to hang out together, but the after party's only happening tonight. Why not?"

Seemingly stunned by her date's outright willingness to shoot her down, Faith huffed, slouching down in her seat.

I think somebody was hoping to get laid...

Smirking, I buried my face in my menu, ignoring the hostility that radiated around me as Faith stewed and Nate seethed.

Later, I sat in the limousine as my tongue struggled to rid itself of the taste and texture of cooked snail.

Grimacing, I asked, "Does anybody have gum?"

Sierra dug around in her sequined clutch purse, producing a stick of something minty that I gratefully unwrapped and shoved in my mouth.

Seated on the other side of the car, Faith whined, "I still think it's lame that we're showing up this early."

"Faith," Sierra's curt tone betrayed her growing annoyance, "we're not early, we're on time, and if we show up actually late, they won't let us in."

Glaring at the unwelcome reminder of reality, Faith settled back into sullen silence.

Movement on my right caught my attention, and I watched as Nate pulled out his flask, taking a swig before offering it to me.