Warmth spreads across my chest as I bring the flower to my nose and inhale. “This is so sweet. Thank you.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet, Ro,” the bitch with Dillon says, in a piss-poor impression of my accent. Everyone laughs except for me, Ro, and Ash, and I wouldn’t mind bringing all the rest of them up to the roof and helping them to fly.
Straightening to my full height, which happens to be at least three inches taller than the bitch, I pull my shoulders back and look down my nose, pinning her with a dismissive look that conveys how insignificant her words are to me. How dare she come into my house and laugh at me. One more rude comment or snide look, and I’m booting her skanky ass out of my party.
Dillon is watching me with that asshole smug grin of his, and it pisses me off. Why is he always staring at me? He’s clearly got zero interest in me, so why does he seem to have difficulty removing his eyes from my face? “What’s your problem with me?” I ask, working hard to keep my tone level and a pleasant smile on my face. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he rattles me.
“Where would you like me to start?” He arches a brow, and his eyebrow ring pulls with the movement.
“Dil! I swear to God I will fucking castrate you if you don’t stop this shit! Grace is my friend, and my roommate, and if you can’t be nice, you’ll have to leave.”
Please leave. I chant it over and over in my head hoping maybe if I say it enough times it’ll come true.
“You’d like that.” Dillon lights up a joint as he eyeballs me, daring me to challenge him and confirm my prude status in his mind, no doubt. “You’d like me to leave, which is exactly why I won’t.”
Ash pushes past Dillon’s fuck buddy, prodding her finger into his chest. “No smoking in here.” Ash yanks him outside, and I watch through the glass as she rips him a new one. It’s no less than he deserves.
“You really seem to get Dillon riled up,” Ronan says, frowning a little.
“It’s mutual. He infuriates me.” A part of me is grateful he seems to hate me for some inexplicable reason. Another part of me feels wounded. I know I’m not a bad person. I try to be nice to people, and I don’t think I have a shitty personality, so I don’t understand why he’s taken such a strong dislike to me. At any other time, I couldn’t care less. But my ego has taken a recent battering, along with my heart, and having someone react to me with such blatant hostility is upsetting.
“What about me?” Ronan asks, flashing me a cheeky wink. “Do I infuriate you?”
“Not a bit.” I loop my arm through his. “You bring me roses and act like a reasonable human being. You could never infuriate me. Now, what can I get you to drink?” I ask, pulling him toward the kitchen where the alcohol is.
A couple of hours later, I’ve forgotten all about Douchey Dillon. I know he was outside smoking with his friends and the cling-ons a while ago, but I have no clue where he is now. Not that I care. With any luck, he’s already left. I’ve been dancing with Ash, Ro, and a couple of guys from school for the past half hour, and I need to take a breather to hydrate my parched throat. But first I need to pee.
I head straight for my bedroom because I’m sure the main bathroom is a mess by now. Placing my hand on the door handle, I frown as the door opens because I haven’t inserted my key yet. Slurping sounds tickle my eardrums as I stand on the threshold, my anger spiking fast. We locked our bedroom doors for a reason, and I have no clue how someone got in here without the key. Fueled by vodka and adrenaline I push into the room, slamming to a halt at the scene in front of me.
Dillon is sitting on the side of my bed with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. The black-haired bitch is kneeling between his legs, sucking his dick. Neither of them has noticed me, and I watch with mounting disgust as she hollows her cheeks, sliding her lips up and down his thick shaft. His jeans are pooled at his feet, and he hasn’t bothered to remove his boots.
She lets go of his cock, with a loud popping sound, the second she spots me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Her words fade into the background as I stare at Dillon’s impressively long dick. But that’s not what has caught my attention. He has a barbell piercing through the tip of his penis with a diamond-like beading on each end. Holy shit. An ache throbs down below, and stirrings of desire take root.
I’ve never seen one on a guy.
Well, duh, because I’ve only slept with Reeve, and he’d rather you cut out his heart than put a needle through his dick.