Blurred Lines [BxB] COMPLETED

0.06

0.06 - Saturday 11:50 p.m.

Rhys Wyer

Beverly shrieks and all heads turn towards us, even Maverick and Lauren who are across the yard.

"Sorry guys, he just tickled me," Beverly giggles, throwing her head back.

"Get a room," Hunter complains. A few others nod in agreement. Maverick just stares at us.

"Maybe you should be a little quieter," I whisper to Beverly. She rolls her eyes and staggers closer to me.

"They won't be able to hear me if we go upstairs," Beverly suggests with a wicked grin. I look around to see if anyone is still watching us. No one, not even Maverick, who is leaning in close to Lauren, telling her something that causes a blush to taint her cheeks. They should get a room.

"Okay, sure, privacy would be nice," I say. Beverly squeals and drags me back into the house. I hear whoops and shouts behind me. I look back to see Hunter making a crude gesture and Tristan giving me a thumbs up. In the far corner, I can barely make out Mav looking up and frowning before Beverly pulls me past light crowds of people and up the stairs.

We open the first door on the left. The lights are turned off, but the two people making out are clearly Alex and Sarah. They don't even notice that the door opened. Beverly's nose scrunches up, and she slams the door closed.

"She's so gonna regret that tomorrow," Beverly mutters. We try the door on the right.

"Wow," I say. Jules is in between two girls, kissing one with bright red hair, and baring his neck for the other girl with tattoos on her arms to trail kisses along the bare skin. Beverly sighs and shuts the door.

"I can't believe I saw that," she says. "He must've invited them because Lauren only wanted the usual group invited to the kickback."

"Why does he get away with that?" Beverly shoots me a glare, and I smile sheepishly. "Don't worry, I only have eyes for you."

Beverly brightens at that, and when we open the third door, the room is empty inside.

"Thank god! I thought we might have to end up sharing a room," Beverly exclaims. On her way in, she flicks the lights on. "Off or on?"

"Off," I say quickly. Beverly raises an eyebrow but turns the lights off again anyway.

"Sometimes you get so shy," Beverly says, bringing me towards the bed. "It's cute."

I frown and climb on the bed after her. "I'm not cute."

Beverly laughs then leans in close. "Kiss me," she whispers.

My gaze drops down to her lips, pink and full. She nudges forward, and I close the gap. My hands settle on her waist, and she takes this as an invite and maneuvers her legs around so she's straddling me.

"Faster," she whispers when we break apart, and she kisses me again, trying to speed up the rhythm of our tongues. The room is eerily quiet; the music from downstairs must not reach up here. Our lips make too much noise, like we don't fit right together.

Beverly fists my hair and I stop myself from squeezing her waist too hard. My brain is going on overdrive, thoughts zooming in and out. I wonder if it's the vodka. Or the weed.

My mouth is starting to ache when Beverly pulls back. She takes less than half a breath before grabbing the hem of my shirt and tugging. I'm too tired to fight, so I lift my arms up. Cool air hits my skin, and the hairs on my arms raise when Beverly lightly rakes her nails down my chest.

"You're so hot," Beverly says.

"Um, you too," I say. It's pretty lame, but she beams anyway and kisses me again. Her lips are pliant and her waist is really skinny in between my hands. There must be something wrong with my brain right now if I'm thinking about all these things.

"Did you bring a condom?" Beverly asks breathlessly.

"What? No," I say, and all I can think about is how fuzzy my brain feels. Beverly sits back, utterly dumbfounded.

"What boy doesn't have condoms on him when he has a girlfriend? And when they're on a date?" Beverly wonders aloud.

"Wait—since when were we official? And this is a date?" I ask incredulously. Beverly jerks back like I slapped her. She gets off the bed.

"Have fun, Rhys. Call me when you know what you want," Beverly says, exiting the room, her yellow blonde hair the last thing I see. I know I should feel guilty, but instead, I feel relieved.

"Fuck, what's wrong with me," I say quietly, violently threading a hand through my hair. My stomach growls, and that's when I know I should get downstairs before it's weird.

Halfway down the stairs, I hear laughter and sarcastic, slow clapping.

"Nice job Rhys," Hunter says from the couch. They must've seen Beverly storm out or something.

"Shut up, Hunter," I say harshly. Hunter throws his hands up in mock surrender.

"What happened? Couldn't get it up?" Tristan asks, and he looks genuinely curious. Hunter howls.

"Fucking hell, guys, shut up. Seriously. She's just sensitive and shit," I say. Hunter sobers up.

"Literally all you have to say is 'you're so beautiful' and she's yours," Hunter says. Tristan hands me his Juul like he knows I need it.

"She said we were official. Like boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. And that this was a date. Like what the fuck?" I bring the Juul to my lips and inhale sharply, and then try to blow out the irritation.

"Shit man, she thinks you guys are official?" Hunter asks. He shakes his head. "You need to break it off while you can."

"She's clingy as fuck, though. How do I break it off without getting murdered?" I ask. Hunter shrugs.

"Not my problem, dude." He leans forward and takes back his Juul. I look around, noticing for the first time that the crowds have lessened, and besides the lovebirds upstairs, my only friends downstairs are Hunter, Tristan, Lauren, and Lola.

"Where is everyone else?" I ask. "Where's Mav?"

Tristan smirks sluggishly. "Probably with Jackson." My heart skips a beat, and I realize my right hand is tightly gripping the armchair of the couch. How can he be with Jackson, of all people, after last night?

"No, he left a while ago," Lauren interrupts, "and not with Jackson." She crosses her arms. My right hand relaxes, and I drop it in my lap. Lauren glances questioningly at me.

"How do you know?" Hunter asks her with an amused smile. Lauren flushes.

"He was with me before he had to leave," Lauren says.

"Wait, he had to leave?" I ask. Lauren looks down at her lap worriedly.

"I mean, no, I don't know, okay?" Lauren says defensively.

"When did he leave? Just now?" I press, and Lauren shrinks back, her forehead creased in confusion. "If you can remember," I amend, and Lauren's expression smoothes out again.

"I think he left when you and Beverly went upstairs," Lauren says. For a moment, I'm frozen, but then my legs get up on their own and I'm out the door getting an Uber before I realize what happened.

As I get in the car, my heartbeat pounds in my head and my hands shake, even gripping my phone. Because what Lauren just said, and the look on Maverick's face as Beverly and I went upstairs earlier—that can't be a coincidence.