Play Me | ✓

Chapter 31: Part One

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Warning: This chapter contains sexual content

(BRACE YOURSELVES)

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"...If I had it my way, I would take the lead And if I had it my way, I would take you deep If my body had a say, I'd get it off my chest Show you all the red lace underneath this dress..."
~ Demi Lovato

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"What happened?" I stop and look back at Summer. Her eyes wide open, her pupils shrink. She clears her throat and blinks several times trying to regain her composure.

"Nothing, mhmh," she clears her throat. I eye her skeptically. She left the group earlier and I feel like she's hiding something from us. She doesn't know anyone here, so I really can't pinpoint what she could be hiding.

I turn back around and carry my way into the dining room. If I had to describe this home in one word, it would be extravagant. It's almost three times larger than my home in Chicago. Looking at more educated people like Giuliano, inspires me to do things that most deem impossible. Other's success motivates me to do better. It's like I'm driven off of their success.

We reach the living room and are greeted by Giuliano and his son. Alec and Cole were both already seated so I take a seat beside Cole. Following everyone's gaze, I watch Summer recklessly taking a seat. First her bulging eyes catch everyone's attention and then the way she loudly scoots her chair out and in.

"Are you okay, April?" Giuliano asks suspiciously. Everyone waits for her to respond.

"Yeah, I'm good," her smile widens more than usual.

I clear my throat deciding it's best to keep the attention off her.

"Thank you for having us, Giuliano."

"Again, we only ever have the best, Kai. So consider it a compliment," he claims. I nod knowingly. Without wasting another second, the servants walk out and start serving us.

We all dig in and continue on with a light conversation regarding no matters of business. Just light topics like the weather and Giuliano's childhood. From my peripheral vision, I watch Summer gulp down her fifth glass of water. My eyes trail down to her untouched plate.

"Summer, what's wrong?" I whisper.

"Nothing," she says not so convincingly. There's something wrong with her. She's drinking water as if her mouth is drier than the sahara desert and she fades in and out of deep thoughts. It's like she's thinking about twenty things at the same time.

The fork, halfway into my mouth, I pull it out abruptly when I feel Summer's hand on top of my dïck through my pants. I cough trying to cover my surprise and grab a glass of water.

"What are you doing?" I hiss.

"What?" she whispers back innocently.

"Get your hands off my dïck," I scold.

"Huh?" she looks down at her hand and blushes. Pulling her hand back, she apologizes.

"I need to go to my room, come with me."

"Why?" I ask.

"Please," she begs.

"Are you okay? You don't beg. Ever."

"Please, I need you," she pleads. I clench my jaw at the amount of confusion running through my brain right now. This is not the Summer I know. If she stays here any longer, she's going to fuck everything up.