Love's Learning Curve by Felicia Lynn Read Free Book Online Page B

trying to plan my great escape.
    “Hey Ashley, I actually just remembered …” I begin before she cuts me off.
    “Oh no, you don’t … you’re here.  Just come in.  Stay for an hour.  If you hate it, I won’t make you stay longer,” she demands, and I quickly realize my mistake earlier at thinking she was a quiet follower.  How wrong I was; this bossy little one has stated her demands, and by the look on her face, I’m stuck, and my only ticket out isn’t good for one hour.  So I allow her to take my arm and drag me toward the party as she tells me how cute I look, lists all the people who are here, and describes what there’s to do inside.
     

     
    This place is packed, and I’ve searched high and low for Morgan unsuccessfully for at least twenty minutes.  I lost Ashley pretty quickly when I walked in the door.  She was asked to drive one of the sorority sisters, who was already stumbling drunk and on the verge of getting sick, back to her apartment.  She promised it would only take ten minutes, and she’d find me as soon as she got back.  I think that’s probably going to be impossible.
    I walk around aimlessly watching people greet each other, and I feel out of sorts, as if I’m watching it all happen on television and am not really a part of it.  A loud, piercing yell catches my attention.  A few of my sorority sisters squeal, while bouncing up and down, and simultaneously come running toward me.  My God.  This is not normal.
    They start talking fast and all at once.  I don’t even understand most of what’s said.  Completely overwhelmed, but used to people talking at me and not being able to answer, I plaster on a fake smile and give them the impression that I too am thrilled to be here. Then I excuse myself by telling them I’m going to the bathroom and need to find Morgan. 
    When I find myself in the backyard, I realize hundreds of people are here and not only is it highly unlikely that I’ll ever actually find Morgan, but Ashley definitely won’t find me easily either.  I make my way over to the table where they’re playing a game to get a closer look and see if she’s over there.  I get closer to the action, and I’m intrigued, unable to pull myself away from watching the excitement.
    Morgan’s not here, but I watch anyway.  Everyone’s laughing and cheering every time someone sinks a Ping-Pong ball into the cup on the other side of the table, then the opposing team has to drink the liquid in the cup that looks and smells like beer.  The number of drinks the players each consumes shocks me, yet at the same time, it’s funny.
    The game ends, and they begin switching up the players, arguing about who’s next.  Still content watching, I’m not even thinking about my original countdown to leave any longer.  Hanging out here until I see Morgan or Ashley can’t be terrible.  They’ll come along eventually, I hope.  Watching others have fun and enjoying the excitement of it all, I find myself cheering quietly each time a ball sinks in a cup.  I’m losing it.
    When a guy next to me grasps his hands around my waist and pulls me next to him in front of the table, I’m stunned into stillness resembling that of a granite statue.  The residual feeling left from the fire of his touch is the only thing that snaps me back to life.  “You’re up with me, buttercup.”  His voice is deep, strong, and demanding as he speaks with authority, softening it with a wink.  I’m shocked.  What the hell?  I don’t want to play.  I just want to watch.
     “Oh … no, thank you. I’m just watching.”  I look up into his eyes, attempting to smile and beginning to plead my apologies for not being able to play the game.
    His eyes lock onto mine as his face changes.  The fun expression vanishes, and something I can’t describe now takes hold on his features; the tables have turned, and he’s now become the statue.  Clearly, I’ve done something wrong already.
    “So … umm