Home > Starfire (Peaches Monroe #3)(2)

Starfire (Peaches Monroe #3)(2)
Author: Mimi Strong

I bit my lower lip. “I’d never do that,” I lied.

“If you want to see what I have, the offer is for in-person viewing only.”

I pushed the door open. Ahead of us lay the stairs up to my bedroom. “Show time,” I said.

“You’re drunk,” he replied.

I stepped in through the door, but he hesitated.

“You’re afraid of raccoons,” he said, chuckling.

“Yes, I am. And you’re afraid of what I might do to you in my bedroom.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why are you standing out there on the porch? Get in here so I can climb you like a tree again. I liked that.” I grabbed his hand and rested it on my hip. “I know you liked it, too. I could feel how much you liked it.”

He grinned, looking sheepish. “You don’t actually want me, Peaches. You just want a warm body to soften your fall.”

I backed away, further into the house.

“Of course I want you.”

Adrian stepped inside and leaned in toward me. I expected him to kiss me, but he just dragged his tongue up the side of my neck. I shivered and tilted my chin up so he could do it again. He did, this time stopping to suck on my pulse point.

Close to me, he murmured, “You want to use me like a drug, to change how you feel. But you said it yourself tonight—you don’t feel the same way as you used to.”

“Adrian.” My voice was pleading.

He pulled away. His blue eyes were cold. “I should get going. It’s a long walk to my parents’ house.”

“Adrian, if you walk out that door tonight and leave me, you’ll never walk back in.”

He took an audible breath in, then he turned and let himself out. The door clicked shut.

In the silence, I sensed him standing there on the porch, just on the other side of the door.

He’d kissed me so passionately the whole walk home. His hands had been all over me, and I knew he wanted to be with me. Was he just teasing?

I pulled open the door, expecting to see him there with a big grin on his face. The porch was empty, though. Adrian was long gone.

CHAPTER 2

Saturday morning, my brain featured a double matinée showing of that movie nobody wants to see: Embarrassing Highlights From Last Night.

We could call this horror film EHLN for short.

When I first woke up, EHLN was at the part where I told my friends they were being jerks for making fun of me.

That night at the bar, I realized they must have been talking about me behind my back. Maybe it was innocent enough, and just friendly teasing, but I wasn’t in on the joke, so it wasn’t funny to me.

I’d just returned to Washington State from LA, where I’d modeled for a plus-size lingerie photo shoot, and my friends were obviously jealous. Remembering that part of the previous night, I didn’t feel so bad, because they had it coming. Also, storming out is badass, so long as you don’t forget your purse and have to go back for it.

With a groan, I crawled out of bed while EHLN continued to play in my head.

As I was brushing the fuzz out of my mouth, I revisited another classic moment: drunken kisses.

If my life really was playing on the big screen, and not just in my head, I think most people would agree that Adrian had totally asked for those drunken kisses. He’d been flirting with me on and off all summer, and then he had come out to the alley just to check on me. (Ah, the sexy aphrodisiac of concern on a man’s face.)

Next, we had walked to my house, kissed some more, argued over yearbook stuff from high school, and talked about me sending him a picture of my nipple. Okay, that was all embarrassing, but not too horrible.

The horrible part came next, when he stood in my doorway and flat-out rejected me. Never mind that he had a valid point about why hooking up was a bad idea.

What was that excuse he used?

Something about cushions and falling?

Suddenly and clearly, I saw his face and heard him say, “You want to use me like a drug, to change how you feel.”

I spat out the toothpaste in my mouth and moved over to the toilet, feeling like a volcano about to purge.

The movie playing in my head paused and rewound to play the scene again in perfect focus.

Adrian had said, “You don’t even want me. You just want a warm body to soften your fall.”

As much as it hurt, I had to admit he wasn’t wrong.

I was a lousy person who used other people. Looking back, I’d used Keith Raven in LA to cushion my fall. Keith had promised our fling was mutual, but was it? Really?

Keith let me stay at his apartment, treated me with so much kindness, and drove me all around town in his van, and what had he gotten in return? Some sex and a pep talk?

There was something wrong with me. I needed to stop hurting people, and stop being such a mess.

When you’re na**d and kneeling on the tiles in front of your toilet, choking on regrets, can you ever forgive yourself for your weakness?

~

Someone knocked gently on the bathroom door, which was odd, because Shayla rarely knocked, let alone gently.

I pulled open the door, brushing my teeth for the second time. In came a petite blonde, our friend Golden, who grunted at me on her way to the toilet.

I moved my arms to cover my br**sts, though she didn’t seem awake enough to notice I was naked. I grabbed a big bath towel from the back of the door and wrapped it around myself.

She said, “Sorry for barging in, but I’ve been obsessed for hours with getting up to pee, and I couldn’t wait another minute.”

“No problem,” I replied.

“After you left the bar last night, Shayla made me do body shots. Tequila.”

“Another fun night at Cougar Town, huh?”

“Did you sleep with Adrian?”

She asked the question over the sound of her tinkling.

Two points to Golden for being direct! I knew she had a crush on him, and they’d been hanging out recently, but just as friends.

Did I sleep with Adrian? No. He turned me down.

“Nope.” I rinsed out my mouth and took an assortment of pill bottles from the medicine cabinet. “Vitamins?” I offered.

She was wearing one of Shayla’s workout T-shirts, which looked like a dress on Golden’s petite frame. Her eyes were rimmed in red, but I couldn’t guess if she’d been crying, or if that was just her morning face.

“Do you even care about Adrian?” she asked. “I don’t know why you’d bother with him when you have a rich movie star.”

I backed toward the door. Even though Golden was being calm and strangely detached, I still felt uncomfortable. Was this a confrontation?

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