Falling for Rex by Shayne Ford
5
LUNA RAE
Not thinkingabout it is out of the question.
My thoughts about Rex Jackson, the bruises he left on my body, the things that could or couldn’t happen tonight start swirling in my head the moment I climb into Olivia’s car, turn the key in the ignition and look at Frankie.
“Ready?” I ask, giving her a quick once over.
She looks like a princess with her Marylin dress and coifed hair, tiny earring sparkling on her earlobes, and pretty shoes sheathing her feet.
The car engine hums quietly as I keep my gaze pinned on her.
“Are you sure it’s a fancy party?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says before checking her lips in the mirror.
“We’re not going to look weird?”
“No, we’re not. Start driving, woman,” she says, tipping her gaze to me, laughing. “We’re going to be late.”
“All right.”
I shift my gaze away and let the car glide down the road.
She’s still busy, checking her lips while I’m wrapped up like a Christmas gift.
My shirtdress feels crisp against my skin, rubbing my sore spots and reigniting pathways of pain.
Even now, I feel more pleasure than I feel pain.
Even now, a quiver spreads through my body, and my thighs clench.
Back home, I slathered a tinted lotion on my body to cover my marks and my bruises, so now my skin is warm and smooth, a citrusy, floral aroma floating around like a cloud.
We both smell like shrubs in bloom.
Frankie focuses on her phone, smoothly sliding her finger across the screen and scrolling down before answering a text message while my mind goes adrift.
I haven’t heard from Rex today, and the thought alone makes my stomach clench.
It also brings me some relief.
Come to think of it, I don’t need to be with him to have a good time with him, and I’d lie to say I’m not anxious to see him.
Meeting him at the party doesn’t mean we’re not connected–- it just means we’re not officially together.
I breathe out a quiet sigh.
Who am I kidding?
That’s a stupid argument. Olivia would laugh at it. And I’d laugh, too, if I weren’t so invested in the story.
We exit the highway and take the road sprawling across town, heading to an area peppered with beautiful mansions.
“Hmm. I’ve never been here before. Guide me, please,” I say.
“You’re good... It’s the third house on the right.”
We follow the road to a modern house featuring a sophisticated design and sweeping views of Half Moon Bay Harbor before pulling in front of it.
Large windows and glass doors filter the view of the water, streaming from the back of the residence.
Pulsing lights litter the bay, a colorful glow lining the walls inside, dozens of guests filling the two floors of the house.
“Oh, my...” I mutter, moving my eyes away from the interior and training it on the cars parked outside. “Some party, huh?” I murmur before turning the engine off and shifting my gaze to her.
She’s stiff as a board.
“What happened?” I ask.
She moves her eyes to me, a forced smile tugging at her lips.
“Nothing,” she says, running a trembling hand through her hair. “How do I look?”
“Better than ever. What’s with you?”
Her shoulders jolt back.
“I don’t know. I have a weird feeling.”
My hand slackens on the wheel.
“Weird good or weird bad?”
“What do you think?”
I study her, puzzled.
“Why?” I ask. “What do you think will happen?”
She shrugs again.
“I don’t know. Maybe, he’s here with someone else.”
I observe her for another second before bursting into laughter, my chuckle unable to conceal my nerves.
“What are you saying?” I toss at her in a lighter tone. “There’s always someone else. And we can find someone else too if we need to, so don’t worry about it.”
She doesn’t say a word, so I tap her on her back.
She smiles, tense like a wire.
“Let’s go in. You’ll relax soon... You’ll see. Is he here?”
I swing my eyes to the cars.
“I have no idea,” she says.
“Don’t worry. We’ll find out in a moment.”
Minutes later, we enter the place and get engulfed in loud music, cold air, hypnosis-inducing lighting, and a mixed scent of drinks, flowers, food, cologne, and perfume.
Frankie was right. It is a fancy event.
Amber greets us before Carlos shows up.
Dressed to the nines, he places a kiss on Frankie’s cheek, making her lose her breath for a second before she learns he is indeed alone.
What is it with her and all these weird feelings?
She reconnects with him as if nothing happened.
Kissing her lips this time and gently taking her hand, Carlos removes all her fears.
She morphs into her old self, and soon after, they join other people on the terrace while I start touring the house.
The guests are everywhere, the food is plenty, and the trays of drinks are more than enough. I lift a glass of wine from a platter before taking the stairs up.
The second floor stretches out in an open design, a large patio with lush shrubs lining one wall, and fewer people having drinks up here.
I walk out on the terrace, find a quiet corner, set my glass on the handrail, and enjoy the marine air.
Far from overwhelming, the music and voices blend over the water.
Jammed with stars, the sky catches my eye for a moment when Olivia comes to mind for some reason.
I fish out my phone and check the last messages, looking for hers.
I take a few pictures of the bay, the lit pool, and the tables downstairs, and then the lush vegetation and the torches on this floor before sending them to her.
I add a brief message to the pictures, promising to call her in the morning.
Smoothly, I slide my phone back into my purse when my eyes move to the crowd downstairs.
I spot Frankie and Carlos, her skirt twirling as they dance.
Not far from her, I notice Amber, her crew, a bunch of guys I don’t know, a woman who sits at a table, alone like me, and a few other people who seem older than us.
I thought her parents were out of town–– if those are her parents. Maybe they’re not.
I lift my drink and sip the sweet delicious wine before setting the glass back.
The taste strikes a wonderful balance between the alcohol and the fruity aroma, shooting a warming sensation through me fast.
A random thought draws my eyes to my phone again. I check the time.
It’s late, and Rex is not here, and I begin to wonder if he’ll show up this evening.
Frankie and her unexplained fears... I have to deal with them now.
Trying to shake them off, I shoot my eyes to the first level, and then back up–– too fast, it seems–– something catching my attention at the last moment.
I slant my gaze back to the terrace and look intently.
Carlos and Frankie just stopped dancing when a few guests walk out of the house and stroll onto the terrace.
Rex Jackson is one of them.
He’s not dressed in the sexiest pair of swimming shorts I’ve ever seen, nor does he sport a wetsuit or his biking gear.
He wears a pair of dressy slim fit pants, no socks, designer shoes, and a tailored shirt that sets off his athletic physique.
Men and women walk behind him, but I refuse to read too much into it. I don’t want to know whether they’re paired up or not. They’re probably not.
Regardless... I swallow hard.
Frankie waves at him.
He goes straight to her, which is a good sign. They start talking while she looks around, searching for me.
She moves her eyes up when I take a step back and sip more wine, pretending that I wasn’t looking. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice her gesturing in my direction.
On cue, my heart beats faster.
Great. I’m so good at giving her advice, but I have such a hard time following it.
A few seconds tick by when I sneak a glance at the crowd downstairs. Frankie’s scarlet dress catches my eye. Carlos stands by her side.
I start looking inside the house, expecting to see Rex walking on the terrace at any moment.
No such luck.
A few more minutes pass by. I look down again, trying to figure out what happened.
The groups have shifted places.
Frankie sits at a table with Carlos and Amber and a few family members. At least, that’s what I think they are.
Everything looks great, or so I believe, but then I notice a few men I haven’t seen before.
One snags my eyes instantly.
It’s the man I saw at the beach. The man riding his motorcycle and also the man I spotted in the bikers’ club downtown.
I don’t know how I make the connection–– I’ve never seen his face very well. Not when he rode his bike or spent time at the club, and not on the day he walked out of the ocean wearing a blunt expression on his face as if he’d started the storm.
It’s him. It must be him... Rex’s brother.
A voice barks in my head, my instincts telling me he’s bad news.
Rex confirmed it. Frankie’s heard the rumors.
Why is he here?
He wears a stylish suit, the great design, eye-catching details, and sexy fit showcasing his muscular body.
His cocky smile draws my eyes to his face.
My gaze hovers over his lips, jaw, neck, and the top of his chest. I even check his strong, expressive hands.
A few men keep him company, all dressed-up.
It’s hard to tell whether they are his biker friends. I don’t think so, but I find it confusing.
Who are these people, anyway? They don’t look like bikers. And they don’t look like students.
What baffles me is that Rex has given up on climbing the stairs and coming to me. Am I supposed to go to him?
Really?
No. I won’t do that. That’s stupid... Wait.
I jerk back as if I stepped on a poisonous snake.
The unaccompanied woman, the one standing near the water, drinking and staring at the ocean... Oops.
She no longer stares at the bay. She stands next to Rex, drinking him in with dewy eyes.
A sequined blue dress hugs her body, and red heels highlight her toned legs, her hair fluttering down her back in a long luscious curtain.
Sammy, isn’t it?
Huh.
Sammy. Exactly. The woman from the beach. Sure, they're buddies, and she is nothing to him, although that’s up for debate.
I can see that she wants him.
Who doesn’t want him, right? Insert eye roll.
Rex is with her now. They’re in his brother’s group. Has he forgotten about me?
I take a long breath, promising myself to keep my cool and not lose my head. That’s precisely what I intend to do.
I suck in another breath–– somehow, the air is not enough–– snatch my drink and strut away.
Smoothly, I take the stairs down, waltz through the groups of people, and head straight to the first-floor terrace.
Frankie spots me. So does Rex, but he doesn’t move–– the woman is still by his side.
His eyes flash genuine surprise as if he didn’t expect me to be here. Or to be dressed like that? Maybe he doesn’t like my dress? My hair? My heels?
I can’t say what bothers him, if anything, but he seems stressed, nervous, tense.
I take a step toward the door when he looks the other way to talk to that woman, and everything turns dark in front of me.
A muscular man cuts my way, slamming the door over the view.
