The Masks We Wear by Lee Jacquot

 

ELEVEN

 

The air is thick and moist, which is fucking disgusting. Even taking a breath requires effort with the hoard of bodies stuffed in Lily’s house.

Lily.

Agreeing to come was hard enough, but if I’d known it was at her house, I would have said no. Yet here I am, wearing the last-minute outfit Remy was able to put together, squeezing in between a half-naked siren and her victim of choice. It may not be too bad, and hopefully, I make it through without running into trouble.

The sounds coming from the speakers reverberate around the house, coursing through my body, changing up the rhythm of my heart. Smiles, drunk laughter, and low eyes appear on every face in view.

We make it three feet before I see her.

Everything freezes on impact—the music, the people moving around, and her body. It’s as if time slows to a complete stop, giving me time to see her. She’s dressed—and I use that word loosely—as the joker. An insanely reflective purple jacket hangs off one of her tan shoulders while she moves to the beat. Her stomach is fully exposed as she only has on a lacey yellow bra that pushes up her breasts so high, they nearly kiss her collarbone.

And her shorts. Her fucking torn shorts stop right below her pussy, and my mind replays the moment I first saw it. Pink, swollen, and dripping in between her fingers.

She’s twisting around as if she’s the only one in the room.

Ticking her hips in tune with the melody circling her, letting her hands drape above her head. It’s sensual as fuck, and no matter how much I despise her ass, I can’t stop looking.

My dick pushes against my pants, and I bite into my lip—eager to feel something other than the painful arousal ripping through my lower body. For two seconds I hold a firm grip, then her eyes collide with mine.

Fuck.

Heat radiates across my cheeks after I snap my face away, finally breaking the connection.

“Are you okay?” Remy tugs at my sleeve, forcing my attention to her.

I swallow around the lump in my throat and nod even though I hate lying. “Sure, but I’m going to head to the bathroom really quick.”

She keeps my gaze, tilting her head as if to make sure I’m being honest. I ignore the drops of sweat beading at my temples and shrug. “Get us a drink?”

She huffs, but releases me, glancing toward the kitchen. “Fine, but hurry up.”

Nodding again, I detach from her side, moving straight for the stairs on our right.

Lily’s house, like all the others in our subdivision, is pretty big. But even with the forty-five hundred square feet and dozens of bodies now between us, I can feel her as though she’s right next to me. My nerves tingle, sending waves of frustration through my veins.

Not one piece of me should care. And yet, my body, more pointedly my dick, could give two shits what I think. Every fucking time I am in her vicinity, all I want to do is move closer. The constant disconnect between my mind and body feels as if they’re literally going to rip me in half.

How fucked up is that?

I sigh and run a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends as I take the steps two at a time.

My heart slams against my chest when I make it to the top. The door to her bedroom sits to the left of the landing. Just a few weeks ago, it was the room I never thought I’d set foot in again, and now, looking at it, I feel sick.

I clamp down on my bottom lip again.

Fuck her.

Turning toward the bathroom, the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I don’t even have to turn back to know she’s there. “What?”

She giggles that same syrupy laugh that curdles my insides. “Well, that’s kinda rude. Considering you’re in my house and all.”

Don’t turn around.

Trying my best to ignore her, I take a few long strides to the restroom door. Lily swings in front of me, pressing her back into it, cutting my quick escape. In one hand, she has a red cup, while the other curls around the doorknob. “Here, let me open this for you.”

My eyes automatically flash down, unable to look at her this close up. I clench my jaw, failing miserably at not grinding my molars. She doesn’t smell like roses tonight. Instead, it’s the scent I remember from when we grew up. A special lavender cream she uses for a light patch of eczema on her ankles. It made her skin so soft, she used it everywhere.

It makes my heart flutter a little faster, pissing me off.

She waits, not moving for a solid minute before finally opening the door, and stepping aside.

I slide past her, careful not to connect with her body, and walk to the toilet. When I glance up, she’s still standing on the threshold, watching me with her head resting against the doorframe.

“Did you want to hold it?” I snap.

She scoffs, “Sorry, I don’t have any tweezers with me.”

My eyes roll back so far they hurt. “Can you just get out?”

The reason I came up here in the first place was to get a break from her, yet here she is, suffocating me with her presence.

Lily thrusts herself off the frame, stepping inside, and closes the door with her black boot. “I’m pretty comfortable, actually.”

Running my teeth along the inside of my lower lip, I consider my next move. I could play this stupid ass fucking game or just ignore her. Hope she goes away. But curiosity gets the best of me.

“What do you want, Lily?”

She pauses, her eyes narrowing. “For you to keep your mouth shut.”

She says it simply, almost matter-of-factly, like I should know this already. Irritation flickers in my veins, making my right eye twitch twice. “About what? What the fuck do you think I know?”

“Everything.” It’s a whisper.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

What happened to her?

The question sticks to the underside of my tongue, unable to push it up and spill out.

“Okay, I won’t say anything. I’ll keep your pretty little name out of my mouth. It tastes like shit, anyway.”

She grins, but there isn’t any humor in it. Taking two more steps, she’s right next to me—if I take a deep enough breath, my chest will touch hers.

My breath falters, and hers stops completely.

Heat swirls between us, and I’m not even sure at this point if it’s from disdain or something else... something impossible.

“There’s another thing,” she utters, quieter than before.

“Enlighten me, so I can fucking pee in peace.”

Her gaze flits to my lips, and my dick twitches in response. After a second, she blinks twice, and lets her eyes slowly come back up to mine. For a moment, she almost looks like Liliana. “I want you to stay away from me.”

My brows draw together, a little surprised. “I don’t think I follow.”

“I don’t want us to have any contact besides the project.”

She pauses, closing her eyes. When they open, and the contacts settle back over the iris, whatever I thought I saw, is gone. She grips my chin and almost snarls. “Or I’ll let the school know you like to sneak into girls’ rooms and handcuff yourself to their bed naked like some sick pervert.”

I recoil, jerking my head to the side.

Even though I want to grab her by the fucking throat and rail her against the sink—force her to watch herself unravel around my dick and see how sick I can be, I don’t. Instead, I ball my fists and shove them into my pocket. She doesn’t deserve the orgasm, and I sure as fuck don’t deserve the heartache that would inevitably follow.

She’s silent, and though I’m not looking at her, I can feel her eyes search my face, scorching a path as they go. A second more, and she backs away, scoffing. “Don’t worry, Spencer. I don’t plan to ever touch you again. The first time was enough. It made me so ill, I couldn’t eat for days.”

I ignore the rock that caves in my chest with her words and snatch the cup from her hands. In two gulps, the hot, sweet licorice substance burns my insides on the way down. “I thought you looked a little hotter.”

It’s a subtle jab, but I know it hits its mark when a light gasp escapes her mouth.

Satisfaction rolls down my back, relieving a little tension as I leave her in the bathroom, returning to Remy downstairs.

The music is a little louder than before, and the light feeling from just seconds ago dies with the sight of Remy. She has her back to me, facing a pair of monochromatic eyes.

My spine stiffens when he hands her two drinks, jutting his chin toward the patio. I don’t know Blaze, but with a best friend like Lily, he can’t be good news.

I move through the small crowd, avoiding any chance encounters with as many sweaty bodies as possible. But by the time I reach her, Blaze is gone, and Remy’s face is the color of a fresh tomato.

“What did he want?” I gesture toward the backyard.

Remy shakes her head and somehow flushes a darker shade of red.

“Just said it was n-nice to see-ee me.”

My brows knit together at her slurred speech. I open my mouth to ask her what the hell that’s about, but instead of words, laughter seeps out. It’s a chuckle at first, bouncing my chest, but then it deepens, lowering into my gut. I laugh so hard my shoulders begin to shake.

What the fuck? Stop laughing.

But I can’t. And now, neither can Remy. Her hand shoots to my chest, gripping on it to stable herself against her dry heaves. We must look like complete psychos, but we keep laughing until our voices crack and cheeks start to hurt.

I smack my lips together, suddenly aware of the cottonmouth I have. “We got to get a drink, Rem.”

Her mouth drops open, handing me two red cups she manifests out of the air. “Ha! I like that.”

We cheer to her new name and take our drinks in a few large gulps. The same sweet licorice taste from earlier flows down my throat. Remy lowers her voice to a whisper, letting her eyes dart around frantically. “Like a rem job.”

Another laugh erupts from deep in my core. “It’s call—”

A pair of nails rake up my back, searing the skin beneath as if there’s no fabric to protect me.

Do I have a shirt on?

“For someone so smart, you’re dumb as fuck. It’s a r-i-m job, you idiot.” Amora’s voice cuts through the air, but it misses Remy completely.

Instead, we both look at each other and crack into more chortling. I think Remy even snorts, which only pushes us further into our hysterics. Finally, under a little control, Remy’s eyes widen, her hands curling around her stomach. “I ha-have to p-pee.”

Amora steps into view, and I jerk back, bumping into a squealing sexy mail woman. I hadn’t even realized she was still standing there, and seeing her now in her Harley Quinn outfit is kind of...sexy?

She’s a pretty girl—tall, and slightly curvy in all the right places, with the clearest set of light blue eyes I’ve ever seen. But she’s also a raging sarcastic bitch, who has fucked half the school’s populous from what I hear.

“Bathroom downstairs has a line. Take the stairs. First door on the left.”

On the left? That’s not where it’s at. Is it?

I’m not sure. What was I doing before this? Oh, shit. My shirt.

Placing my cup on the counter, my hands rove over my upper body. I feel the soft cotton under my fingertips and sigh. How weird would that have been?

It is hot, though. Like, make-sense-why-a-guy-would-take-off-his-shirt-in-the-middle-of-a-party hot. I lift the bottom and wipe my forehead.

Why is it so fucking hot? Where is Remy again?

I can’t seem to focus on a singular thought, and the once giggle bug that bit me left when Remy did. So I concentrate on that. I just saw her. She said she needed something.

Was it a drink?

No.

Something about the patio, maybe... my arm tingles. It almost reminds me of that time William had me try Molly….

“Lily wants to know if you still want to fuck her.”

My face snaps to the sound, shredding my concentration. Amora is still standing near me, leaning against the island, twirling a blue-tinted pigtail around her finger.

Lily.

I don’t like her. She’s not the same as she used to be. I miss Liliana.

A strange pain stretches across my chest, and I clutch at it, suddenly finding it harder to breathe.

Why is it so fucking hot?

“She wants to know.”

“Do I want to have sex with her? I doubt that,” I bite out. “Why?”

Amora laughs, pushing off the counter and moving into my personal bubble. She’s too close, uncomfortably so, but I can’t move. My feet feel like they weigh a thousand damn pounds. Her lips graze against the shell of my ear.

“She wants you to fuck her until she can’t remember who she is.”

I recoil, and my body tenses. All my blood courses south, leaving little for my head, which now feels incredibly light. Dizzy, even.

As if on cue, Lily appears, a red cup in one hand, and the sexiest fucking grin on her mouth. She hops on top of the counter, crossing her legs, and dangles a foot toward me. “Hey, Spence. How you feeling?”

Her voice is soft, smooth, and drives right into my core. Images of her laid out on the black rug, lost in the abyss, pass through my muddled thoughts. I wanted to jump through my fucking window and climb into that tree so goddamn bad. Every inch of me burned under the fire she stared. And I liked it.

Why do I feel like I’m not supposed to like it?

“I’m hot,” I manage to utter.

Her smile grows, somehow warming me more. It’s not the sneer I’m used to. It reminds me of when she was my Liliana, making the second time I’ve seen it tonight. It’s almost like she’s still in there—somewhere under all the makeup, fake lashes, and contacts.

“Just take your shirt off, Spencer. Half of everyone here is naked.” Lily waves a hand around before gripping her necklace, pulling it back and forth. “Nobody will care.”

My eyes find themselves wandering, detached from what I’m telling them to do, and exploring the site before them. They survey her exposed tan skin. It looks so smooth, like when you take the lid off a fresh carton of ice cream. Velvety.

I want to lick the dip between her breasts. See if they taste how I always imagined.

Then maybe after that—my eyes slip farther down her waist—see what her pussy tastes like.

There’s a little bell going off somewhere. It’s the smallest chime I’ve ever heard, but it sounds closer to me than Liliana.

I do want to fuck her.

I am going to fuck her.

As if she can see the revelation cross my face, she giggles. It’s so light, infectious...real.

It’s been so long since I’ve heard it, and suddenly I find myself wondering what I need to do to hear it again.

As her laugh subsides, she tilts her head down, her eyes barely visible through narrow slits.

“Kiss her boot.” My head moves toward Amora’s voice, but my eyes belong to Lily. I can’t look away.

Fuck, it’s so hot in here.

“Kiss it, and you can have her,” she finishes.

I clench my jaw, and I vaguely hear something crack. Part of me thinks I must have misheard her, but then Lily juts out her foot, shaking the loose black boot at me.

I squeeze my eyes closed. Focus.

There is no way in hell I’m putting my mouth on this girl’s goddamn boot.

Shaking my head and taking a few more rattled breaths, I open my eyes. They connect with brown ones I haven’t seen in over five years, stealing my words from me before I can think twice.

“Okay.”