Текст книги "Emerald"

Автор книги: K. A. Linde

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

“DO NOT OPEN THAT BOTTLE OF CHAMPAGNE,” Ian said, lunging for Trihn across the cellar.

Pop.

“What did you say?” she asked coyly.

“My mom is going to kill me.”

“Your mom won’t even notice,” Trihn insisted. She pressed the bottle to her lips and tipped it up in the air. “Oh my God, this is so good.”

“Well, enjoy it. It’s the last thing you’ll ever drink.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“It’s her favorite!” He winced.

“Then, I guess we have to drink the whole bottle before the party and stash the evidence, huh?” she asked. The logic seemed sound to her.

Ian gave her a skeptical look but took the bottle when she passed it to him. There was no going back now. They couldn’t recork the bottle or anything at this point.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” But he drank from the bottle without another word.

At least she was getting him to drink.

The last three days Trihn had stayed over at Ian’s house to escape the insanity that was happening at her place. She couldn’t stand another second of Preston and Lydia being together or her mother trying to make her feel better by forcing her on Ian or really anything at the moment. Mostly, she had spent her days in a haze of inebriation by the pool. Margaritas, daiquiris, mojitos…vodka, rum, gin…and even a few Coronas for good measure—anything to keep her tipsy enough not to give a shit.

But she couldn’t avoid the Petersons’ party.

Ian’s parents would throw a huge party every year, and their friends from all over would come to the Hamptons to celebrate. It was one of the biggest events of the season. Trihn should be looking forward to seeing the friends that she and Ian had made over the years, but all she could think about was confronting Preston and Lydia.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’ve really been spending every minute over here this week?” Ian asked. He placed the expensive bottle of champagne on the bar next to him.

“I don’t know what you mean. I always spend time over here.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But it’s normally not this much, and some of the time, Lydia is usually here with whatever new guy she’s been seeing.”

“So?”

“So…I was there for that awkward dinner conversation. What’s with you and Ly? Do you just hate the new guy? Are you worried about sharing her time when you get to NYU? What’s up? I know something other than the breakup has been simmering,” he said intuitively.

Trihn grabbed the champagne back off the bar and took another swig. “Can we not talk about this? I’d rather just keep drinking and dancing.”

She took his hand in hers and forced him to twirl her around in place.

“You know I can’t dance.”

Trihn laughed. “You can when you’ve had a little bit more to drink. Here. Drink up.”

He retrieved the bottle that she’d practically launched at him. “I don’t consider that dancing.”

“What is it then, Ian?” she teased. “Sex on the dance floor?”

His whole face burned at the comment. “I know you’re just trying to change the subject.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she asked, turning away from him.

He set the bottle back down, grabbed her shoulders in his hands, and stopped her in place. “Because I know something is bothering you. I can’t fix it unless I know what it is, and I hate when I can’t fix a problem.”

“I’m not a computer, Ian. You can’t fix me,” she said calmly. But her heart was racing. No one could fix what had happened.

“I know, but you’re not the problem. Something is bothering you, and I can fix it. Why won’t you tell me what it is?” he demanded.

She saw a fire in Ian that he didn’t normally bring out. He must be really worried. Normally, he was so shy that he would never demand anything from her.

“Preston is cheating on Lydia,” she spat out.

Ian dropped his arms and stared at her in surprise. “What? How do you know?”

“Because I saw him with someone else.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I saw him in the city.”

“Are you sure it was Preston? I mean, there are nearly nine million people in New York City. It could have just been someone who looked like him,” Ian insisted.

“It was him.”

“You’re certain?”

“Ian, yes.” She had never been more certain in her life. But the words that she was the person he had been cheating with somehow got stuck in her mouth. He had been cheating on both of them. They’d had a relationship. He had been her boyfriend, too, not just Lydia’s.

Now, Trihn was just…empty.

“You must not have told Lydia.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Are you going to?”

She nodded. Yeah, she had every intention of telling Lydia as soon as they weren’t all locked together in this insufferable house. Just a few more days, and then Lydia could know the truth.

“I will when we get home.”

“Maybe we should go tell her now. She deserves to know the kind of scumbag she’s dating.”

Trihn blanched. “Give me that bottle back.”

He grabbed it and held it high over her head, and even though she was tall, there was no way she was going to be able to reach it.

“We should go tell Lydia.”

“We?” Trihn asked. “No, I’m not going to tell her, Ian. Definitely not right now while we’re here with him. She’s never going to believe me, especially after that catastrophe of a dinner. You heard her call me a bitch. She’s just going to think I’m jealous.”

Ian lowered the champagne bottle as he considered her words. “Are you sure Lydia would do that?”

Trihn leveled him with a flat look and snatched the bottle back from him. “You know Lydia.”

“Yeah, I do,” he conceded. “She probably would go ballistic.”

“I know.” Trihn brought the bottle to her lips again. “By the way, you’re going to need to help me finish this.”

They finished that bottle and started in on another—cheaper—bottle.

By the time the party was in full swing, Trihn was in her new favorite place—abandon.

She had gone home only long enough to change into her new emerald-green dress that she had bought for just this occasion, and she’d reassured her mother that she was going to the party. She had stayed home long enough to listen to her mother go on about how she wasn’t spending any time with the family, and then she’d left. And she’d convinced herself she was drunk enough that she didn’t care that Preston was stealing her last family vacation before she would go to college.

Everyone who was anybody showed up at the Petersons’ that night. The parents were congregating inside and on the deck of the house while the younger generation had ended up in the pool and down on the beach. Most of the people near Trihn’s age were even further gone than she was, and she was pretty sure a good number of them were on something much stronger than alcohol.

Not that she cared tonight.

Music was pumping through some high-tech surround-sound speakers that made the sounds reach all the way out to the beach. Her feet were in the sand, her hands were over her head, and she was dancing to the tempo with a few girls. They were a giggly mess and kept falling over into the sand. As Trihn tried to help one girl stand up, the girl yanked on her arm and pulled her down next to her.

“Oh my God,” Trihn cried. She had sand all over her new dress.

The girl just laughed. “Sorry, Trihn. Stronger than I look I guess.”

“Sure you are.”

She was trying to get to her feet again when someone bent down and put an arm around her waist.

“Let me help you.”

Trihn looked up into Preston’s eyes, and her body went slack. He was touching her. Her head swam, and all she could think about was how amazing his lips looked and how much she wanted to kiss him and all the dirty things those lips had done to her body.

He smiled down at her, as if he could read her thoughts.

He hoisted her up easily onto her shaky legs and pulled her against him. She wasn’t breathing properly. His skin burned her everywhere it touched her, and all she wanted to do was lean into him. This was right, one hundred and fifty percent right.

“I like the dress,” he breathed.

Then, she came to her senses. This was not right. There was no way this would ever be right again. “Get away from me,” she said, wrenching out of his grip.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ian said. He jogged up to them and put a protective arm around Trihn. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“You should leave her alone,” Ian said.

Preston’s eyebrows rose. “I was just helping her up out of the sand.”

“Yeah, well, I think you’ve helped enough,” Ian spat back at Preston.

“Come on, Ian. Let’s just go get another drink,” she said.

“I’m not sure another drink is in your best interest,” he said as they left Preston standing alone.

“After that, I’m almost certain it is.”

Once they reached the bar, Trihn grabbed the first thing she could and downed the drink in one long chug.

“Whoa! Slow down.”

She wiped her mouth and trashed the drink. Grabbing another in her hand, she veered back out into the sand and headed straight toward Lydia.

“Trihn, what are you doing?” Ian asked, following her.

“I’m going to tell everyone what an asshole Preston really is.”

“Right now?” he squeaked.

They had almost made it all the way to where Lydia and Preston were standing when Ian grabbed Trihn around the waist and held her back.

Her back was flush against his chest, and he leaned down, so he could whisper into her ear, “You are making a horrible mistake.”

“Ian,” she growled, “let me go.”

“You didn’t think Lydia would believe you when you were sober. What makes you think that she’s going to believe you when you’re drunk?” Ian prodded.

Trihn deflated at his words. Of course he was right.

She relaxed back into him with a frustrated sigh. “I just want it to be over.”

“Not tonight.”

Lydia noticed them standing a short distance away. She laughed and waved. “Well, I never thought I’d see the day when Mom’s prodding worked.”

“What?” Trihn asked. She took a step forward but stumbled as all the alcohol seemed to hit her at once.

“You and Ian.” Lydia suggestively raised her eyebrows.

Preston stared between them with his eyes narrowed. “Nice rebound.”

Trihn’s mouth opened and then closed. She was not interested in Ian. What the hell is wrong with them?

“Hey, it’s okay. You can like whoever you want,” Lydia said. “Free love, sis.” Then, she turned back to Preston and left Trihn standing there in shock.

“Trihn,” Ian said.

He reached for her, but she took another step away from him.

Oh, shit! Does he think that I like him, too? Her head hurt at that thought. He couldn’t think that. No one should even be thinking that. He was just Ian. And she was just Trihn. And she was still dealing with the Preston thing to even consider that Ian might actually like her..

“I need some fresh air.”

“You’re outside,” he pointed out.

“Fresh air…away from everyone else.”

“Including me?”

As she started walking toward her house, Ian followed.

“Including everyone,” Trihn said. “I just…want to be alone.”

His face fell.

Oh, no. He didn’t like her. He couldn’t like her. He had just been trying to take care of her. There was nothing else to it.

She just needed fresh air to think and try to come down from how drunk she was. At least that was what she was going to tell herself.

TRIHN DIDN’T MAKE IT INSIDE.

Her head swam, and she figured the pool deck was far enough. It was empty and secluded. She could still hear the party raging next door, but six-foot-high shrubs and an Olympic-size pool separated their houses, so it was muffled at least. The air didn’t feel as constricted here.

No Preston. No Lydia. No Ian. No questioning everything.

Trihn lay down on one of the cushioned benches next to the hot tub, propped her feet up on the white wooden armrest, and stared up at the stars above her.

Solace. Sweet solace. Just me and the universe.

This was the good thing about alcohol. She didn’t have to think or feel or really do anything. She could just lie here all night.

Then, hands covered her eyes, blocking her view of the stars, and she screamed.

One of the hands moved to cover her mouth, and a soft whisper came from behind her, “Shh.”

Trihn tried to scream again.

Then, his voice filtered through her struggle. “Calm down, beautiful.”

She would recognize that voice anywhere.

Preston.

He released her when she stopped struggling.

She quickly sat up, bringing a wave of dizziness with her. “What…are you doing here?”

“Came looking for you.”

She reached out for the bench to steady herself and took a deep breath. She needed a clear head for this conversation. “Why? I don’t know what you want.”

“I wanted to see you,” he said smoothly.

His eyes scanned her body, and her heart accelerated, but at the same time, she was disgusted. How can he look at me like that? And why do I want him to?

She was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Those dark blue eyes dancing in the dim deck light, the strong jaw and messily styled hair that she wished her fingers were running through, the loose khakis and blue-striped button-up he had rolled up to his elbows—everything about him made her ache to move closer toward him. But she stayed rooted in place.

“What the fuck, Preston? You’re dating my sister!” Trihn hissed.

“Last I checked, I was dating you, too.”

“That’s disgusting!” she spat. “We’re not together. I don’t even know how you could date two people at once like that!”

“You seemed pretty cozy with Ian. I thought this was par for the course with you.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Ian and I are just friends. Always have been and always will be.”

“That’s not what it looked like to me.”

She shook her head. “Don’t try to put this on me. Even if I were dating Ian, which I’m not,” she clarified, “you and I were over the second I saw you with her.”

“Yes, I think you tried to clarify that when you said your boyfriend broke up with you. Clever lie.” He smirked and reached out for her, as if none of that was of any concern. His fingers wrapped around her waist, and he drew her to him.

“Don’t touch me.” She wrenched out of his grasp and crossed her arms. She wobbled on her feet and then steadied herself on the bench again. “You lost any right you had to touch me.”

“Then, why haven’t you told anyone?” he asked. He cocked his head to the side to examine her.

“I…” She closed her mouth. Nothing she could say would justify why she hadn’t told Lydia. She didn’t think Lydia would believe her. She didn’t want to ruin the vacation. She worried it would ruin everything. Her heart was shattering into a million pieces, and she wasn’t prepared for it to be really over.

“Yes?” he asked.

“How long have you known that Lydia and I are related?” she blurted out.

“Since you told me that Linh Hamilton was your mother,” he answered easily. “I hadn’t really considered the possibility until then.”

“That was so…long ago,” she stammered.

“Two weeks,” he offered.

“And you didn’t think that you should maybe fucking tell someone about it?” she asked, her anger heating again like a flame to a fuse. “God, you’re just a cheating bastard!”

“Trihn, you’re asking all the wrong questions.”

“Are you insane?” she asked. The adrenaline from this conversation was burning off the alcohol in her system, and she stood a little straighter. “Is that a better question?”

“I’m not. I just fell for two incredible women for two very different reasons.”

He slowly started walking closer to her. She felt like she had lead in her feet because, even as he approached her, she didn’t move away. She wasn’t sure if she even could at that point.

He stopped before her with just inches between them and brushed a stray strand of hair off her face. “How could I resist you after that first introduction?”

Trihn remembered that fateful day when she had met Preston. She hadn’t been able to tear her eyes away from him, and he was the first person she had really wanted to pursue. He had given her the confidence to push for a relationship, and then he had pulled the rug out from beneath her.

As her mind went back to that day, standing on Lydia’s steps, she gasped. “You were visiting Lydia! That’s why you were there that day!” she accused.

He smirked, as if knowing all the puzzle pieces were finally falling into place.

“The only reason I know you is because of Lydia.” She shook her head in disbelief. Pure anger shot through her emerald-green eyes. “How could you do this, Preston? You could have let it be that day, but you pursued me. You showed up at the studio. You took me to the ballet. You were the one who bribed someone, so we could go backstage and fool around. You were the one who fucked me at your place, at the studio after-hours, at—”

“I know what we did.”

“And you’ve been sleeping with her,” Trihn accused.

“Trihn…”

But she wouldn’t listen to what he had to say. Preston’s fingers dug into her hips, holding her in place, and they weren’t gentle. She could tell just by that action that he wanted her.

And she wanted him. He was supposed to be special…to be hers. Trihn had waited. Fuck, she had wanted it to feel right. And, of course, it had felt right with Preston, who belonged to someone else. And not just anyone else…to Lydia.

“I hate you,” she spat.

His smile grew wider. “But I thought you loved me.”

Her mouth dropped open. Without thinking, she pulled her hand back and smacked him as hard as she could across the face. His head whipped to the side. There was a moment of silence after the slap rang through the air where Preston looked off to the side and fumed. Then, he turned to look at her again.

Her chest was heaving. She couldn’t believe she had done that. She had never slapped anyone before. She had never been violent.

His eyes were shining bright, and whatever ounce of control he had held on to was shattered in that look. His mouth crashed down on hers. Even if she had wanted to stop him, she wouldn’t have been able to. The white gloves were off.

Soon, they were in a frenzy, tearing at each other’s clothes, desperate for the feel of skin on skin, as the tension cracked like lightning between them.

His pants fell around his ankles. Her thong was tossed to the side, and then he shoved her short green dress up around her hips. She bit down on his lip as he manhandled her into place. She ran her fingers through the hair she had been daydreaming about and then tugged to the point of pain. He grunted but didn’t stop. He just pushed her backward onto the bench she had just been lying on.

“You want it rough, don’t you?” he growled before covering her body.

He spread her legs open before him, and then he reached behind her, roughly grabbed her ass, and positioned himself in front of her.

“I hate you,” she barked out.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said as he shoved inside her.

She cried out, and he just covered her mouth with his to muffle the sound of her screams, but it hardly masked the sound of their bodies slapping together.

And he was as rough as he’d promised to be. Pinioning her arms above her head, he savagely thrust into her. Their conflicting emotions fueled their passion. She loved him, and she hated him. She wanted him to fuck her senseless. She wanted him and despised him. She couldn’t stop even if she wanted to…and she didn’t. She just wanted him.

“I want to give it to you deeper,” he told her.

She didn’t resist as he pulled out in one quick motion, gripped her hips, and flipped her over, so she was on all fours in front of him.

“That’s better,” he said, smacking her ass hard with his open palm.

She shot forward as pain blossomed on the spot. He dug into her hips, bringing her back toward him, and then reentered her.

As he started pumping again, his hand twisted around her long mane of hair and tugged until her head was looking upward. Then, he buried himself inside of her. She squirmed against him. Even in her addled brain, it was borderline uncomfortable. He was hitting so deep, but the pain and pleasure mingled when he started moving again. He drew all the way out and then slammed back into her.

After a few agonizingly slow repetitions, she thought she was going to combust. He didn’t seem too far off. Their bodies moved in time. She pushed back into him as he forced his way in over and over again.

Their breathing was labored, and then she felt it. Everything happened at once. He started coming, and her body responded with her own orgasm. She shuddered, and her hands gave out beneath her. He released her hair and was holding on to her hips as he finished.

After a few seconds of heavy breathing, Preston slid out of her and started to right himself. “That was…” he said, trailing off.

“Amazing?” she ventured, flipping over.

“Yeah. Amazing.”

Trihn slid her dress back down her hips and stood. She wished that she could blame what had happened on the alcohol she had consumed today, but she knew it had nothing to do with the reality of the situation. While she had been tipsy, she had been coherent and would have gone through with it sober.

She knew what she had done and how wrong it was. And with every look at Preston…she hated him a little bit more for it.

“Good, because that’s the last time you’ll ever get that again,” she said.

She walked back toward her house, leaving him all alone, without a backward glance. She knew she would torture herself later, but for now, she just needed to hold her head high and get out of there.

One day, that bastard would realize what he was missing.