Since then, Sara had dated four other guys, and she’d slept with two of them. Now, Sara had stopped talking about sex being special.
“Look, I know you’re worried about your parents,” Sara said. “But that’s why you need to just let loose and have some fun.” Sara tucked her long, brown hair behind her ear. “I’m getting you a margarita and you’re going to love it.”
Sara darted off to the table by the group of people. Kylie started to follow but her gaze slapped against Soldier Dude, looking as scary and weird as ever, standing by the group of margarita drinkers.
Kylie shot around, prepared to bolt, but she smacked right into a guy’s chest, and darn it if more beer didn’t jump out of the bottle and fall right between her boobs. “Great. My boobs are going to smell like a brewery.”
“Every guy’s dream,” the husky male voice said. “But I’m sorry.”
She recognized Trey’s voice before she did his broad shoulders or his unique masculine scent. Preparing herself for the pain that seeing him would cause, she raised her gaze. “It’s okay, John’s already done it once.”
She tried not to stare at the way Trey’s sandy brown hair fell against his brow, or the way his green eyes seemed to lure her closer, or the way his mouth tempted her to lean in and press her lips to his.
“So it’s true.” He frowned.
“What’s true?” she asked.
“That you and John have hooked up.”
Kylie considered lying. The thought that it would hurt him appealed to her. It appealed to her so much that it reminded her of the stupid games her parents played lately. Oh, no, she would not stoop to their ‘grown-up’ level.
“I haven’t hooked up with anyone.” She turned to leave.
He caught her. His touch, the feel of his warm hand on her elbow, sent waves of pain right to her heart. And standing this close, his clean, masculine scent filled her airways. Oh God, she loved his smell.
“I heard about your grandma,” he said. “And Sara told me about your parents getting a divorce. I’m so sorry, Kylie.”
Tears threatened to crawl up her throat. Kylie was seconds away from falling against his warm chest and begging him to hold her. Nothing ever felt better than Trey’s arms around her, but then she saw the girl, Trey’s screw toy, walk outside, carrying two beers. In less than five minutes, Trey would be trying to get in her panties. And from the too low-cut blouse and too short skirt the girl wore, it appeared he wouldn’t have to try too hard.
“Thanks,” Kylie muttered and went to join Sara. Luckily, Soldier Dude had decided Margaritas weren’t his thing after all and left.
“Here.” Sara took the beer from Kylie’s hand and replaced it with a margarita.
The frosty felt unnaturally cold. Kylie leaned in and whispered, “Did you see a strange guy here a minute ago? Dressed in some funky army outfit?”
Sara’s eyebrows did their wild, wiggly thing. “How much of that beer did you drink?” Her laughter filled the night air.
Kylie wrapped her hands tighter around the cold glass, but worried she seriously might be losing her mind. Adding alcohol to the situation didn’t seem like a good idea.
An hour later, when three Houston cops walked into the backyard and had everyone line up at the back gate, Kylie still had the same untouched margarita clutched in her hands.
“Come on, kids,” one of the cops said. “The sooner we move you to the precinct, the sooner we can get your parents to come get you.” That was when Kylie knew for certain that her life really had been toilet bound—and someone had just flushed.
~
“Where’s Dad?” Kylie asked her mom when she stepped into the room at the police station. “I called Dad.”
I’m a phone call away, Pumpkin. Hadn’t he told her that? So why wasn’t he here to get Pumpkin?
Her mom’s green eyes tightened. “He called me.”
“I wanted Dad,” Kylie insisted. No, she needed her dad, she thought and her vision clouded with tears. She needed a hug, needed someone who would understand.
“You don’t get what you want, especially when . . . My God, Kylie, how could you do this?”
Kylie swiped the tears from her face. “I didn’t do anything. Didn’t they tell you? I walked a straight line. Touched my nose and even said my ABCs backwards. I didn’t do anything.”
“They found drugs there,” her mother snapped.
“I wasn’t doing drugs.”
“But do you know what they didn’t find there, young lady?” Her mother pointed a finger at her. “Any parents. You lied to me.”
“Maybe I’m just too much like you,” Kylie said, still reeling at the thought that her dad hadn’t shown up. He’d known how upset she’d been. Why hadn’t he come?
“What does that mean, Kylie?”
“You told dad you didn’t know what happened to his underwear. But you’d just flame-broiled his shorts on the grill.”
Guilt filled her mother’s eyes and she shook her head. “Dr. Day is right.”