Page 6 of Shamed
“Guess,” the guy murmurs quietly from behind. “It’s much more fun this way.”
I guzzle down some of the drink he offered and twist my face in thought. My head has gotten progressively fuzzier from the alcohol melting into my blood stream, and my lips pull to the side as I think of my answer.
Dylan comes to mind, or even Jim, but then my cloudy brain pulls up the name from the conversation earlier. Marni said he’d probably turn up, and he might do something like this.
“Jacob?”
A puff of air blows across my cheek and a beat passes where he doesn’t say anything. But I think that’s more to do with my sluggish brain than the amount of time that actually goes by.
“How did you know?”
Wait a second. I was right?
I smile in victory, but then my brows pull together when I really think about it, doubt starting to take over.“Seriously? It’s Jacob?”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums. “I heard you’d be here, and I really wanted to see you, so I came to check it out.”
Marni said exactly that, didn’t she?
I try turning my head to confirm that it’s him, but his fingers tighten on my chin, stopping me once again. A slight wave of uneasiness passes through me, but the booze in my veins makes it easy to brush off. The few encounters I’ve had with Jacob have been pleasant, and even Jim said he was nice.
If it evenisJacob. But why would he lie about that?
“Why can’t I look at you?”
“As I said, it’s more fun this way.”
His thumb brushes along my jaw, reminding me of what they all said earlier, and I know I need to stop him and let him know that I’m not interested.
“I’m sorry,” I begin, hoping to let him down softly. “I-I’m sure you’re great and everything, but I don’t feel the same way you do.”
I hear a low chuckle close to my ear, his warm breath on the side of my throat. “I know.”
He . . . knows? He doesn’t appear to sound sad or disappointed, which is actually great because I don’t like hurting people’s feelings, and I don’t want it to be awkward.
“Drink up, and we’ll walk around to the back. We can . . . talk.”
There’s a pool in the backyard and knowing the girls, they’ve probably decided to go for a swim and forgotten all about me waiting for them. “I like swimming,” I announce, even though he didn’t ask.
I finish everything in the cup like he said and drop the now empty plastic to the ground, telling myself that I’ll pick it up later.
Before I can even blink, Jacob does some sort of swift, ninja movement that has me on my feet, with his arm around my shoulders, supporting my unsteady weight as he guides me along. How did that even happen?
I glance up at him now that he’s not holding my chin, but the hood of his red hoodie is up, shielding the side of his face. Things are spinning a little more around me, so even if his hood wasn’t up, I’m not sure I’d be able to focus on his face.
I feel myself stumble, and his grip on my shoulder increases almost painfully as he leads me along.
“Ouch, you’re hurting me,” I complain, but he doesn’t respond or loosen his hold.
I try to focus on my steps so as not to trip again, keeping my eyes down since everything else keeps moving. It’s not until a couple of minutes have passed that I realize the sounds of the party have drifted away. I look up, noticing we’re not actually close to the house anymore.
Wait.What?
“Where are we going?”
Even in my drunken state, alarm bells start going off in my head, and I try coming to a stop, my heart rate increasing. Darkness surrounds us now, and if I were to guess where he’s brought me, it would be the field a couple of blocks away from the party.
How the hell did he get me here without my noticing it sooner?
