Matches | √

Chapter Ten

combust | to be consumed by fire

• • •

2/10/17

I FEEL AWKWARD in Francesca's slinky top. I couldn't do the dress, to her extreme dismay. I just didn't feel comfortable, but she did convince me to wear this top if I felt like wearing my "mom jeans" as she called them.

The top is silky, thin, and very little material as the back is completely open. Leaving barely anything to the imagination. Though paired with my high-waisted black jeans filled with tears and rips, it dilutes the overtly sexy making for a more casual look. One I'm more confident with. My hair flows over my shoulders in light natural waves, and the clink of my heeled booties echo in my ears as I enter the party with Francesca and her group of friends.

The music is loud. The air is warm from the body heat, and the floors slightly sticky from the booze. Francesca was right, it is bigger than anything Asher has ever thrown. It is epic, and something in the air tonight makes me excited, makes it feel heady with the idea that anything could happen.

"Drink?" Francesca suggests and everyone nods eagerly following her through the throng of people to the kitchen.

An eerie feeling fills my bones in realization that the last time I was in this house was the night I ended up half naked in Asher Lawton's bathroom. The night he decided to find me interesting enough to look at, the night my heart decided to notice him and beat wildly for only him.

My best friend gets to pouring shots and mixing drinks, quickly handing me a cup first before working on everyone else's drinks. I take a small sip of the fruity drink, tasting more mixer then actual alcohol making me smile inwardly. She knows I'm not one for strong when it comes to alcohol.

"Thanks Franny," I murmur to her appreciatively.

"Anytime," she says, throwing me a quick smile before working on the drinks before her. Francesca loves mixing drinks, and always says the day she graduates she's going to bartender school so she can work at a bar while in college.

Suddenly a warm hand touches my shoulder, and a rush of tingles races through me at the idea of who it could be. My body flips around to take in warm brown eyes, instead of the stark black ones I am expecting. A flash of disappointment hits me and I directly push it away hating the feeling.

What am I thinking? That Asher will walk right up to me and ask me to dance, kiss me, profess his feelings for me? I inwardly roll my eyes at my naïve thoughts that seem to consume me where he's concerned.

But Brooklyn isn't a disappointment. He never will be. He's too sweet, too perfect, too much of everything that's good.

"Hey," I smile at him recovering quickly from the mixture of feelings that flood my body.

"I can't believe you actually came," he comments with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. I love the way the tanned skin around his eyes crinkles when he smiles.

A chuckle falls from my parted lips. "Franny forced me," I tell him with a toss of my thumb over my shoulder.

"More like lawyered," she informs him as she hands out her drinks, or what looks more like drop shots to her circle of friends.

"Yeah," I shrug. "Lawyered," I tease with a roll of my eyes.

"Well I'm glad you're here," he says as his eyes flick over my outfit, more specifically my flimsy top. Or Francesca's flimsy top that she forced on me. A part of me wants to crawl inside myself because I'm not confident enough to wear clothes like this, clothes that girls like Dalyn and Francesca and Jaz can wear.