[The Waters 01.0] Bend by Kivrin Wilson

Author:Kivrin Wilson [Wilson, Kivrin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781530734900
Google: 9E_tjwEACAAJ
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: CreateSpace Publishing
Published: 2016-04-05T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Mia

I’m gonna have to cut in.

We’re sitting as far apart as possible in the backseat of the small SUV belonging to our Uber driver, who’s a quiet and gangly guy about our age. I haven’t dared touch Jay, not since we left the party. I’ve barely even dared to move, and we haven’t talked much.

My blood is buzzing and humming with alcohol and anticipation, and all that tension and urgency and lust feels like a third passenger in the vehicle, taking up way too much space between us. A living and breathing thing, it’s crowding and smothering me, causing a vague sense of claustrophobia. I’m so anxious to get home to my parents’ house, where we’ll be alone, that my bones are aching. The waiting is actually causing me pain.

I’m gonna have to cut in.

His words, which he spoke with such calm authority, are like an infinite echo in my head.

Jay kissed me. On the dance floor. In front of everyone. Because he was jealous.

And it gave me the biggest rush of my life. I’m still high from it. Don’t think I’ve ever gone from annoyed to surprised to thrilled and turned-on in such a short span of time.

I hadn’t meant to dance to more than one song with Aaron, but I got caught up in the moment and was actually enjoying myself, finding him charming and funny and kind of sweet. Dancing with him was easy and uncomplicated.

It also didn’t make my heart pound and my mouth go dry. No, that didn’t happen until Jay showed up and sent Aaron packing.

I’m gonna have to cut in.

It was probably rude of us to leave like that, and I’m almost regretting it all of a sudden—but just almost. Still, I fish my phone out of my clutch and find my mom in my messaging app. Her clients often call her at odd hours, so she always keeps her phone close, meaning she’s most likely to actually see and read my text right now.

Jay and I had to leave in kind of a hurry, I type with my thumbs. Can you apologize to Grandma for us? Just tell her I’m sorry and hope it didn’t upset her.

Then I switch off the screen and mute the phone. If Mom is mad, I’d rather not know.

We turn into my parents’ driveway, and the driver pulls up beside my MINI, which is visible in the halos from the garage coach lights. Thanking the driver, I slide out of the car, and as the guy backs up into the street and takes off, Jay and I walk toward the front door. My feet have decided they’re done wearing high heels, and I’m wincing with each painful step.

We’re still not talking as I pluck my keys out of my purse. Even though I haven’t lived in this house for almost eight years, I still have a key; my parents wouldn’t hear of it when I tried to give it back. My hand is unsteady as I fumble for the keyhole.

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