Maybe Never (Maybe #2) (2 page)

He looks me up and down. “Going somewhere?”
 

“Just out to some graduation parties.”
 

He smiles and nods. “With a Mr. Tristan Slade.”
 

My eyes widen. “How did you…”
 

He shakes his head and puts the top piece of bread onto his sandwich. “I was at his father’s house the other week. The topic of you two together got brought up.”
 

My mouth drops.
They were talking about the two of us? Is Tristan only going out with me because of my father and his father’s relationship?
 

“You’re okay with me going out tonight?” I ask.
 

My father walks over and softly kisses me on the forehead. “You look beautiful, princess. Of course I’m okay with you going out tonight, even if I’m not thrilled with the idea of you dating yet.”
 

I smile brightly at him. “I’ll be back by curfew.” I turn to leave.
 

“Stay out as long as you want.”
 

I turn back to see my father casually walking back to his sandwich. “You deserve to have a bit of fun for once in your life. Just don’t tell your mother.” He winks at me.

I take a deep breath, feeling better about tonight now that I know it can last as long as I want, which is forever if I get my way.
 

I turn to walk back to Tristan, but I still hear my father’s words as I leave.
 

“I’m sorry, princess.”
 

I pause for just a second at his words.
Why would he say he’s sorry when he just said I could go out?
I turn back to ask him, but he’s gone, and Tristan is still waiting.
 

I find Tristan still standing in the entryway.
 

“Ready,” I say, unzipping my jacket a little as I approach him.
 

He smiles at me and grabs ahold of my hand when I get close. I freeze at his sudden touch. We’ve touched before, but we’ve never held hands, not like this. This touch, I love.
 

We walk to his car, hand in hand. He only lets go after he has opened the door, and I have to climb in. I unzip my jacket and take it off as he climbs into the driver’s side. He starts the car and backs it down the driveway.
 

Grab my hand
, I think.
 

I rest my hand on my thigh for easy access, but he doesn’t grab it. And I’m not bold enough to grab his—at least not yet, but maybe by the end of the night.
 

“Where are we going?” I ask in a shaky voice.
 

“Vanessa Waters’s party. We just need to make a quick stop first to pick something up.”
 

I nod, not surprised by his choice of party. I don’t ask where we are going first though because I assume it’s to pick up alcohol or something for the party. I just hope it’s not to pick up another girl.
 

“How does it feel to be done with school?” I ask, trying to keep my mind off the fact that we could be on our way to pick up another girl.

“It feels awesome as fuck.” He winks at me.
 

I tuck my curly, long blonde hair behind my ear. I don’t know what else to say to Tristan. I don’t know what else to do. This is going to be a long night if I don’t think of more to say—and soon.
 

So, I say the only other thing that’s on my mind, “My father said that he talked to your father this past week about us. Do you know what that was about?”
 

Tristan keeps his eyes on the road. “No. I don’t talk to my father much.”
 

I look down at my hands in my lap. “You didn’t ask me out because one of our father’s asked you to. Did you?”
 

He glances my way now with a deep frown on his face. It is quickly replaced with a smile as he grabs my hand and pulls it to his lips, softly kissing the back of my hand. “You’re here because I like you.”
 

My heart flutters at the thought.
Tristan likes me.
 

***

Tristan holds my hand as we walk down the strip toward the Felton Grand.
 

When he parked just off the strip, I curiously looked at him, but I didn’t have the courage to ask him why we were here. I don’t know what we are doing here, and I’m more nervous than ever that Tristan is only going out with me because of my father or his.
 

“What are we doing here?” I finally get the courage to ask as we enter the casino my father owns.
 

He smiles as me just as confidently as before. “I have to pick up a package, and then we will head over to the party.”
 

I take a deep breath as we walk onto the casino floor. I’m going to be noticed by someone here. I spend almost every day after school here with my father. Everyone knows who I am. I don’t want them to notice. I don’t want to feel embarrassed because I am here with a guy.

“What kind of package?” I ask.
 

His eyes scan the floor, looking for whomever we are meeting. And then his eyes see my worried face, and his smile turns to a frown. “What’s wrong, Kinsley?”

“I-I don’t want anyone to know we are here.” I tug on my long curls, twirling them in my hand, to try to keep my nerves at bay. I let my eyes just barely meet his. “I don’t understand what we are doing here. I just want to go to the party.”
 

Tristan’s frown relaxes. He tightens his grip on my hand and walks me back to the lobby. I follow, glad to leave the casino floor without being spotted and questioned, but I now feel like a scared little girl. That’s not how I want to seem to him.
 

He lets go of my hand. “I’ll be right back,” he says, distracted by his mission, until he sees my face.
 

Whatever he sees makes him pause before walking the foot distance back to me. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before leaning toward me.
 

I watch his lips lower, and smile, expecting to feel a kiss on my cheek. Instead, his lips land on my lips. I suck in a breath when I feel his moist lips touch mine. He quickly slips his tongue into my mouth, not settling on just a quick peck on the lips, as his hand tangles in my hair.
 

I’ve had only one other kiss on the lips. I was twelve, and the boy kissed me on a dare. It was nothing like this. This is a real kiss. This is what being kissed by Tristan Slade feels like. It feels magical, feeling his lips on mine. I feel important. I feel special. And, for the first time, I feel
wanted
.
 

When his lips leave mine, a smile curls on my lips. I don’t open my eyes, but I can feel him smiling at my smile.
 

“I’ll be right back,” he says.
 

I nod and keep my eyes closed. I let my whole body take in every feeling from that kiss and lock it away in my memory forever. I don’t want to forget it. Not even after I go on more dates and date more men. Not after I’m married with kids. Not when I’m ninety. I don’t want to ever forget how I feel right now because I can’t imagine anything feeling better.
 

I open my eyes when I’m sure the memory is forever ingrained in my head. I don’t let my mind drift back to whatever silly reason we are here instead of already at Vanessa’s party right now. All I can think about is that Tristan likes me.
 

I keep my eyes glued on the hallway that leads to the casino floor as it tempts me to go find him. My previous worries of being spotted by someone who knows me left the moment his lips touched mine. Now, all I care about is being close to him.
 

I take a couple of steps forward, unable to wait any longer in the lobby where he left me, when I see him rounding the corner. It doesn’t keep me from moving closer to him though. I stop when I’m a foot away from him, realizing that I don’t know what to do. I want to kiss him again, but a second kiss now would be too soon after the first. I want to hold his hand again.
 

I can do that
, I think.
 

Then, I see the small black bag in his hand. My eyelids blink rapidly as I try to understand what I’m seeing, but I don’t understand what is in the bag. It’s not alcohol. It almost looks like it could be…

He tucks the bag into his jacket pocket when he notices my stare, and he quickly takes my hand back in his. My thoughts of what could be in the bag drift away. I longingly look up at him, but he just smiles at me. I guess I won’t be getting my second kiss after all.
 

***

The music is loud and overwhelming as we enter Vanessa’s parents’ house. I lose Tristan’s hand as we enter the house, immediately making me feel cold and empty. He keeps walking toward a group of seniors in the living room while I stand, frozen, in the entryway that is crowded with people. Everyone has a red Solo cup in their hand and a smile on their face. Everyone is happy to be at the last party of the year and to have a break from school for the summer.
 

I haven’t been to many parties like this—not that I haven’t been invited because I have. I have just always been the good girl, the rule-follower. I never felt the need to go to parties with underage drinking and who-knows-what going on upstairs, but all it took was Tristan asking me out, and now, here I am.
 

I walk into the living room where Tristan is, but I feel a hand on my shoulder, immediately bringing me to a halt. The hand isn’t Tristan’s. I know that because I can see him across the room, laughing at something Vanessa said. She’s whom he should be with, not me. She’s beautiful, confident, and a bit of a rebel, just like him. She’s nothing like me.
 

I turn to see whose hand is on my shoulder, and I find Eli standing there, smiling brightly at me.
 

“I didn’t know you would be at this party.”
 

I force my lips to return his smile. “I didn’t know I would be here either.”
 

“Let me get you a drink,” he says.
 

“No need,” Tristan says, thrusting a red cup of beer into my hand.

I smile at him and take the cup. “I’ll see you later,” I say to Eli.
 

Tristan guides me away from Eli. He stops and raises his eyebrow at me. “You and Eli?”

“No,” I say quickly.
 

“Good,” he says, wrapping his arm around my waist like he owns me.
 

I take a sip of the beer. It’s warm and disgusting, but I force the liquid down my throat anyway. And then I take another sip and another.

Tristan guides me outside to the back of the house where there is a DJ and a makeshift dance floor set up next to the pool. Several people are already in the pool in various stages of dress—fully clothed or just underwear. And I saw one guy who was either naked or wearing nude-colored underwear.
 

“Want to dance?”
 

“I’d love to.” I feel my face light up brightly.
 

I watch as Tristan downs his beer, and I do the same. He takes my cup from me and tosses it on the floor along with his own cup. He then takes my hand and moves me onto the crowded dance floor.
 

We begin dancing easily to the music. We’re not touching, despite how badly I want to touch him, but then, as if God is answering my prayers, I’m bumped forward into Tristan’s arms. I giggle up at him, embarrassed that my
 
hands are now pressed against his firm chest. He doesn’t seem to mind though. Instead, he twirls me around so that my back is pressed against his chest and my ass is pressed firmly against him. His arms wrap tightly around me, and we begin dancing again.
 

How could this get any better?
 

That’s when I feel his hot breath against my ear.
 

“You’re a good dancer.”
 

I feel my cheeks flush. “You, too.”
 

That’s when I feel his lips touch a place I’ve never been touched before—on my neck. I never imagined that place would feel so good, and it causes me to moan at the unexpected pleasure. My soft moan only encourages him further.
 

I glance around the dance floor as his kisses travel lower to my shoulder. I’m worried that someone is going to see us, but no one is watching.
 

He spins my back around, still holding me in his arms, and his typical wicked grin is on his face. This time, when he leans in, I expect him to kiss me on the lips not the cheek. I meet him halfway until our lips are pressed together.
 

I surprise myself by slipping my tongue into his mouth before he has the chance to do it to me. My hands automatically go around his neck as I lose myself in the kiss. His hands find my hips, holding me tightly against him, until I think I can feel his erection growing against me. An erection that I am causing with my kiss.
 

When he pulls away, just an inch from my lips, I’m panting hard. The kiss has stolen most of my breath from me.
 

He glances up at the house and then back at me. “Let’s go.”
 

I narrow my eyes.
Go? We just got here.
 

He grabs my hand, and then he’s guiding me through the crowd of people and back into the house. I follow because I want to be with him, but I feel like I did something wrong if he already wants to go.
 

We walk back through the living room, and several guys he was talking to earlier wink at him as we walk by. I just smile at them, like I know what they are doing, but I don’t. I don’t know why they winked at Tristan.
 

We walk back to the entryway, and I expect him to lead us out of the house. He doesn’t. Instead, he leads me up the stairs of the house, up to where there are fewer people.
 

We pass closed door after closed door until he sees a door that is cracked open. Tristan peeks his head in and gives one look to someone inside the room. A young boy, who I’m guessing is closer to my age than Tristan’s, scurries out with who I assume is his date behind him.