Stone's POV:
“She didn’t come.”
Her
voice was nothing more than a whisper brimming with dejection, and I glanced up
from my seat on the couch as Dara knelt at my feet.
She
laid her cheek against my knee, and I smoothed wisps of soft, blond hair away from
her face. I searched for the words that
would ease her pain and brighten her spirits, but somehow I knew they couldn’t
detract her from the betrayal and disappointment that had seeped into her soul.
Anger
boiled within me, and I took a deep breath, attempting to retain my
control. Dara was my world, and as much
as I wanted to think there was no way in hell I would let anyone hurt her, some
things were out of my control.
She
covered her face with her palm, and her slender shoulders began trembling. I hated to see her cry, and my hands
instinctively reached for her.
This
was not what I had planned.
How
often does a girl turn eighteen? I had wanted
Dara’s birthday to be special, and I thought I’d done a pretty good job,
considering it was the first birthday party I’d ever thrown. But now, I felt like I had failed her.
I
urged her up from the floor and pulled her into my lap, tucking her face into
my neck and muffling her sobs. I said
nothing, just held her, stroked her, soothed her.
When
she finally quieted, I scooped her in my arms, stood, and then set her on the
couch. “I’ll be right back.”
I
kicked a plump, pink balloon out of my path and went to find my mother. In the last eight months since Dara and I had
agreed to date exclusively, my mother had grown to love Dara almost as much as
I did. Mom agreed to have the party at
our house, and she took it a step further by insisting that we have the whole
thing catered. I had decorated our
living room in pink and white streamers with a boatload of matching balloons,
some filled with helium and some drifting along the hardwood floor.
As
I had watched Dara walk the last guests, Crimson and Scarlet Cruze, to the
front door, I thought she was happy. It
was obvious now that she had pasted on a smile and laughed with her two best
friends in an effort to hide what she was really feeling.
I
rammed my hand in my hair, wishing I knew how to make her world right again.
My
mother was in the kitchen, wrapping plastic around leftover food.
I
briefly explained the situation.
“I’ll
take care of everything here,” my mom assured me.
I
bent down and kissed her on the cheek.
“Thanks, Mom.” I grabbed a pink
mint off the plate in her hands and popped it in my mouth. “Have I told you how awesome you are?”
“You
might’ve mentioned it a time or two, but moms never get tired of hearing
it.” She finished pressing the plastic
on the edge of the plate and shooed me with her hands. “Now go take care of Dara.”
I
joined Dara on the couch. “I know what
you need,” I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and hoping to lighten
her mood.
“What?”
“You
need a motorcycle ride with one extremely good-looking guy.”
The
corners of her mouth tilted upward. “Well,
let me know when you find one, and maybe I’ll give it a try.”
I
stood, pulling her to her feet. “As luck
would have it, I didn’t have to look very far.”
She
glanced over her shoulder. “Where is
he? I don’t see him.”
“Be
nice, Dara Golding, or I won’t let you rev my engine.”
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