Reputation(65)
“Cheers.” Alexis holds up her glass. “Thanks for coming. For saving me.”
I sip. The wine is smooth, decadent, and surely expensive. It goes down easy, but I have to pace myself. I can’t get drunk tonight. I need to stay on point.
The fire snaps and pops. I can feel Alexis staring at me. “So,” she says.
“So,” I say back, grinning.
Our eyes meet, and Alexis giggles. I do, too. The tension is gooey, thick, luxurious. We’ve talked a lot since the party. Things between us have started to shift from mere flirtation to something deeper and more confessional. Alexis has confessed about her eating disorder in high school. How she feels subpar next to her high-achieving older siblings. She’s said how, most days, she hates her artwork, and she wonders if people take her seriously.
We also texted about Aldrich stuff—hack gossip but also our upcoming schedules for winter semester. Let’s rush a sorority next semester. Let’s do it together. Hell, I’d have the money to afford the dues soon. It’s funny, earlier this year, when I was working for Manning, Sienna and I had considered rushing . . . but it wasn’t something I was keen on doing with her, even if I had been able to afford it. Maybe it’s because rushing requires a certain amount of vulnerability, and that was a part of myself I didn’t want to share with her. Of course, that could be tangled up in the fact that I was scamming her family. With Alexis, things feel less complicated.
I’ve never actually had a friend like this. Sure, there were kids I hung out with in high school, though usually I used them because of what they had to offer: a sumptuous liquor cabinet, a forest full of four-wheelers, a Toyota Corolla that I could borrow. But I was never a girl who lay on the carpet of someone’s bedroom and swapped secrets. I was always . . . well, scheming. So it feels kind of nice sending off a text and getting one back so immediately. It feels nice to have inside jokes with someone, upcoming plans. I feel rooted to Alexis in a way I’ve never been before. It makes me feel bad for everything I’m keeping from her. Sort of bad . . . but not completely.
We bob our heads to the music. With the wine and the setting sun and the roaring fire, it’s hard for this setting not to feel romantic.
“Come a little closer,” I murmur, patting the cushion. Alexis smiles and moves over, the warmth of her body dripping into mine. My other hand curls around my phone. Go time. I need to turn on the video recording function soon, so that it captures what’s bound to happen. But I also have to be aware if her parents suddenly pull up. I can’t have them catching us and ruining everything.
But before I can touch my phone, Alexis says, “Tell me a secret, Raina.”
“A secret?” I draw both hands into my lap, intrigued. “What, like truth or dare?”
Alexis nods, her eyes gleaming. She’s got her hair swept off her face, which accentuates her sharp cheekbones and the slope of her jaw. Her skin is milky, edible-looking. The wine has left a reddish stain on her lips.
“I’m not telling you a secret unless you do, too,” I say, deciding on the spot.
Alexis shifts so close that our thighs are touching. She finishes off her wine, then looks at me, her mouth twitching. “Okay. Don’t be mad, but my grandma’s party isn’t tonight.”
I frown. “Wait, what?”
“And my parents aren’t due back in the country for another week.” Alexis ducks her head. “I just wanted an excuse to get away from campus. With you. So no one would see us. Do you hate me?”
I sit back and cross my arms. At least now I don’t have to worry about her parents interrupting us. “You didn’t have to make up an elaborate birthday party to get me alone.” I wave my arms around. “This is gorgeous. I’m thrilled to be here.”
She breathes in as though she wants to say something, then stops herself. Finally, she blurts, “You’re beautiful, Raina. Like, I can hardly stand it.”
I fumble with my wineglass. People have told me this my whole life, but somehow, her bluntness about it catches me off guard. “You’re beautiful, too,” I stammer.
Alexis’s face seems to flower. She hinges a little closer to me, and I can smell the wine on her breath. My heart is humming. Is it going to happen now? Our faces are mere inches from one another. I can see the hope in her eyes. My fingers feel for my phone, but it’s just out of my reach. As I’m fumbling, suddenly Alexis’s lips touch mine. What comes next is soft, and warm, and delicate. It sends unexpected tingles through me, and then it’s over. Alexis pulls back, her eyes wide, her lips parted.
“Sorry,” she says in a breathless voice. “I just . . . really wanted to do that.”
“It’s okay.” My voice is laced with wonderment. My mouth feels stung. I want to do it again, I realize. Again and again and again.
“Your turn,” Alexis says softly, holding my hands. “Now you have to tell me a secret. Something you’ve never told anyone.”
My mouth opens, then shuts again. My brain feels like it’s moving through sludge. I need to think of a good secret, something that will intrigue her but not show my seedier side. All I can think about is the kiss. I want to touch her again. I want to explore those tingles. Stop it, my brain wills. I can’t get caught up in Alexis. I can’t start feeling something for her. I need to kiss her one more time so I can record it. I need to dangle that carrot a little longer.