Nothing But Trouble (Malibu University Series)(80)

Zoe rolls her eyes. “Why am I not surprised.”

“Z, c’mon, cut them some slack tonight,” Blake chides.

“One shot and then we dance. But you all are having one shot tonight. You too, Red. No excuses. I don’t want to hear about your perfect parents disapproving.”

“Fine,” Dora mutters, Zoe squeals, and we all cover our ears.

Like a pro, Zoe flirts shamelessly with the ridiculously good-looking bartender while she orders. “Four Red-Headed Sluts, please.” She hands one to each one of us and raises her glass. “To Alice. Happy twenty-first birthday and to many more.”

We bring our glasses together and toast. “And to friendship,” I add. Everything that’s happened only reminds me how precious each minute is, each person that’s in my life. “I don’t know how I would’ve survived this year without you guys. I just want you to know how much I love you.”

Zoe’s eyes run over with tears. Blake smiles through hers. And Dora wipes her damp cheeks. We all down our shots and Dora comes up sputtering and choking.

“What the heck was in that?” she rasps.

“A good time,” is Zoe’s quick response. “Let’s dance!”

We make our way to the top floor where the EDM music pumps loudly and the bodies are all smashed up against each other on the dance floor.

Marc Schulz comes on to DJ and the crowd goes wild. A few hour later we’re all soaked in sweat and laughing and having a good time. It feels so good just to lose myself in the moment, the music, the good company of my friends. I’d forgotten how gratifying it can be. A couple of guys have already tried to join our little party of four and have been sent packing.

I feel a hand grip my hip from behind and react without thought, elbowing the stranger in the gut before he can press his body against mine.

“Easy. It’s me,” Rea murmurs in my ear, gripping my arm to shield himself.

He came. He’s miraculously here. He made the effort to get out of bed.

This is the sign I’ve been waiting for, that he’s on his way up from bottom. An overwhelming sense of relief washes over me. Like being out in the cold for so long that a small blanket feels like salvation.

Wrapping both arms around me, he places his face in the curve of my neck and his mouth on the damp skin of my throat. His groin presses into my butt and the unmistakable feel of an erection growing under the zipper makes me lean back in to him.

He’s lost weight. I can feel it in his thighs and biceps. In the way my fingers fall into the grooves between his ribs. I’d guess around a good fifteen pounds and he didn’t have any to spare.

We haven’t had any sex lately either. Depression is an equal-opportunity thief that steals all your desires: to move, to eat, to talk, to have sex…to live.

Anchoring me to his body, he moves his hips slowly in tandem with mine like he means to tonight. I feel the rasp of his tongue as he licks me, the gentle nip of my earlobe. His hands on me possessive and teasing at the same time.

I never thought sex could be this…sensual. I thought it only existed in the minds of women, in the fantasy of the romance novels I occasionally read. Not in real life. Not in my life.

In his arms, I turn to face him and stare up into his beautiful face, illuminated by the blue and purple florescent strobe lights, his expression serious as he studies me.

“I love you…do I tell you enough?”

I’m nodding as tears well in my eyes. “Yeah, you do.”

“Good.” He exhales. I can feel his chest expanding against mine. “I…” His face breaks wide open, pain written in the grooves of his pinched-together eyebrows. “I don’t ever want you to doubt it.”

He brushes the wet strands of hair away from my lips and kisses me. The kind of kiss that demands sex, not the kind that’s meant to comfort. Fueled by a million volatile emotions, it gets out of hand fast.

His hips, anchored to mine, sway to a stop. He pulls back and looks beyond me. “I’m taking the birthday girl home, ladies.”

Although Zoe eyeballs him with naked disapproval, she manages to stay quiet on the matter. I breathe out a sigh of relief. That could’ve gone either way. “Can you do me a favor and drive Dallas home?” Reagan asks.

“He’s here!” Dora exclaims out of nowhere. I’m not sure if she sounds excited or worried. Judging by her expression, I settle on worried.

All heads turn to find Dallas at the bar, waiting to be served. Smiling at us, he runs a hand through his blond curls and waves with four fingers, which makes me laugh.

“That’s asking a lot,” Zoe remarks with a pout.

“I’ll owe you,” Reagan tells her with a smile.

“Yes. You will.”

A few minutes later, we’re driving out of the parking lot and headed back to Malibu. As soon as Reagan parks the Jeep in the driveway, he makes good on his silent promise, takes my face in his capable hands, and kisses me like he’s out to prove something.

I jump him, wrapping my legs around his waist, and let him carry me inside to his bedroom where he undresses me slowly. And once he’s done and I’m lying back naked on his bed, he stands before me and undresses himself slowly, watching me with undivided attention, like he’s committing this moment to eternal memory.

He pushes inside of me looking into my eyes. I don’t know what spurred this change in him tonight and I’m not about to question it. He’s present, here with me, for the first time since Brian died. I’m just grateful to have him back.