Connected (Connections, #1)(89)

We’ve spent almost every day over the past three weeks together having a blast. Since Dahlia isn’t working right now, and I’m waiting for Xander to iron out the band's signing contract, we've just been roaming around town and having fun with each other. At first, we picked up a few essentials for the house including a kitchen table and pots and pans, but lately we spend our days running, hiking, going to The Grove to watch movies, to the arcade to play around, or to different restaurants for lunch. Sometimes we walk along Hollywood Boulevard and other times we just hang out here at home. Most nights, she comes with me to rehearsals and then we go out with Aerie or meet up with the guys.

Regardless of what we do, Dahlia and I usually end up leaving early because I just can’t keep my hands off her sexy little body. I can tell she feels the same, and it’s become a game to see who can hold out the longest before we have to leave. Regardless of who wins, making it all the way home has become a challenge and we’ve found some fun and interesting things to do on the way.

Tomorrow is Dahlia's birthday. I’m so stoked to celebrate the day with her, so when Bell asked if she could pull together a small party tonight, I told her yes.

Dahlia is on her way here from Laguna Beach with Aerie, and I just walked in the door. I ran out to pick up her present and was hoping Bell would wrap it for me, but as I look around at the chaos that is my house, I think it might have to stay in the brown paper wrapping.

Bell’s entourage is following her into the house with loads of party items as she’s barking orders. Shaking my head, all I can do is grin. I should have known better. She points to the table as Garrett trails behind her. “Watch out!” she yells as he sets a bag full of cups and plates on the table. “If you so much as smear a speck of icing on that cake, your ass will be banned from this party!”

“Dude, your sister is so bossy,” he says, looking at me.

She’s unloading box after box as platters of food fill the kitchen counters, alcohol bottles line the bar where the stools are, and a giant purple cake in the shape of a flower sits on the kitchen table.

Leaning over the bar, I’m watching the craziness unfold. Bell walks through the kitchen gripping dozens of purple balloons by their white strings.

“Bell, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

She’s smiling, looking very pleased with herself as she ties the balloons to the kitchen cabinet handles. “What? She loves purple!”

“No not the color, Bell. This,” I wave my hand around the room. “A huge blowout party isn’t what I agreed to. It wasn’t part of the deal.”

She swings her head around to look at me. “Deal? What deal? You said I could throw a party, and that’s what I’m doing. Now don’t be such a party-pooper!”

She’s got an annoying smirk on her face, and I’m losing patience fast. “Do you ever even listen to what you say? You said a small, get-to-know-each-other’s-friends kind of a party, and this isn’t that!”

I should’ve known better than to think she could ever plan anything on a small scale. Everything she does is over the top.

“River! Don’t yell at me! Got it? I’m doing this for you. For your new girlfriend, my new friend, and you should be appreciative about it. Not an *!”

Then pointing her finger at me she continues, “And yell at me again, I’m so telling Mom.”

Shaking my head, I just apologize so we can move on. “I’m sorry Bell, darling,” I say in a drawn out mock tone. “Really, we’re a little old to threaten to tell Mom, aren’t we?” Then I remember I wanted to ask her something.

“And by the way, how do you even know Dahlia likes purple?” I, myself, have no idea if she likes it or not.

She gloats for a few seconds before answering. “River really,” she says in a rather tsk-tsk tone. “She’s named after a flower, and everyone knows Dahlias are purple.”

“Bell, are you drunk?" I have to ask this because that has to be one of the dumbest things she has ever said, and now my annoyance is back.

She frowns, “Nooo River, I’m not. Are you?”

I can’t even answer her, so I just shake my head and inhale deeply.

She starts uncovering plates of food and is setting them on the bar when she notices me glaring at her.

Pointing my finger at her, I say, “I’m blaming you if she’s mad.”

“Why will she be mad? Everyone loves a birthday party!” She gives me her biggest, brightest smile before yelling, “Garrett, where are the other trays of food?”

“I’m getting them. Just wait a second Bell!”

“Well hurry up, stop taking your sweet ass time!”

I’m not finding any of this party prep crap amusing, especially since I’m not sure how Dahlia’s going to take it. Just thinking about it again pisses me off.

“Mother f*cker!” I hear coming from behind me as static and a loud piercing sound amplify through the speakers. Turning around, I see Nix has unplugged the sound system and is attempting to connect a mixer board to it.

“What the f*ck are you doing?”

Smirking at me, he points his chin at Bell. “She wanted a DJ setup.”

“A DJ? For what? Why? This isn’t a f*cking dance club!”

Shrugging his shoulders, Nix rolls his eyes and points to Bell as he continues to mess with the sound system like he knows what he’s doing.