Antilove

Diciannove

CAPITOLO DICIANNOVE

thicker than haze

***

DAYS PASS. MAYBE EVEN weeks. To Rose, it's unclear. Utterly in the romantic mood from a love induced haze, she's dancing on her bed wearing nothing but thigh highs and her date's blazer.

    "I love you." She stops twirling and looks down at him.

    He has the same coloring as Lucien. Jade eyes and perfect hair but he's missing it. Rose doesn't care as he pulls her down and starts kissing her ferociously.

    "Say you love me too," she tells him.

    "Isn't this enough?" he asks as he passes his palms over the material of his suit jacket.

    Rose's eyes darken and she takes it off. The over-the-knee socks stay, per request of the man below her. She takes the bottle of Grey Goose that's on her bedside table and swallows it, dry against her tongue but hot on her throat. She fills her mouth again and kisses her date, liquid dribbling down both their chins.

    "Not really," she says.

    "Are you into commitment now?" He laughs.

    Rose doesn't reply and kisses their little mess-up with her sloppy tongue.

    "You tell me, Ian."

    They go way back to high school, both of them never leaving California. He was the angsty art type that only chased girls with a penchant for troublemaking. It doesn't look like he's changed very much since then, still living on his daddy's money.

    "Rose, you sound heartbroken," Ian tells her, fingers trailing alongside her thigh and looking down. He doesn't meet her eyes even though she desperately wants him to.

    "Remember junior year?" She sits up from his chest, perched comfortably around his hips. He's the kind that shaves his chest. "Wait a moment." She takes another drink from the bottle and sets it down.

    "What about it?"

    "Worst year of my life."

    "Wasn't it all of ours?" he laughs.

    "Yeah but remember me? Miss Slut?"

    "Hey. I was into you back then. Still now." Ian takes her hand and presses his lips languidly along the back of it, never breaking his gaze from hers. Always the dark charmer.

    "I was heartbroken then, that no one loved me back." Words tumble from her still-damp lips. The lips that won her all the superlatives.

    "Boys are dumb in high school."

    "They're still dumb now."

    "Truth," he says and it's his turn for a brief affair with the glazed bottle.

    Rose sighs and their hands entwine. She misses their old days. "Well are you going to stay the night? Or should I start getting dressed?"

    "Why the rush, Rose? We're just getting started. Is there someplace you need to be?"

    "You understand me, right?"

    "Of course," Ian says, a firm hand at her waist.

    "Good," she says and lays her head against his throat. It's a slow beat but she doesn't mind.

    Minutes pass. Maybe even hours. They're suspended in this embrace, both too afraid to spill the contents of their guts. Hint: it's not the alcohol.