What's Left of Me
Page 51

From the large centerpiece hang oval jewels and a mixture of plastic spiders, skulls, and ghosts. I can only imagine what this all cost.
Looking around the room, I see various shapes of jack-o-lanterns and gravestones laid out around the floor outlined in lights. There is a DJ in the back corner by a small dance floor, which is filled with a wide range of costumes from bunnies and angels to zombies, pirates, and action heroes.
I look for Parker, but don’t spot him right away. It’s when I notice Bryn—dressed as a racer in a very short yellow dress with black racing stripes down the side and her cle**age popping out— that I find him. He’s dressed as a prisoner in a bright orange jumpsuit. They’re in the center of the dance floor—together. Her arms are around his neck and his are around her waist. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were a couple. Pushing my jealous thoughts back, I begin to walk away. Just as I’m turning around, Bryn’s mouth turns up into a small grin, pulling him closer. I want nothing more than to walk over and slap that smile off her face.
Parker knew I wasn’t going to make it, but it still doesn’t feel good knowing that he’s dancing with her.
I walk around the table and make my way through the crowd searching for someone who slightly resembles Shannon. There is nothing I hate more than standing alone at a party.
“Aundrea?”
I turn around and see Shannon standing there. She’s dressed as a sexy referee.
“Hi, I was looking for you! How are you?”
“It is you! I saw you walk in, but wasn’t sure. You look amazing! I barely recognized you.” Good. That means Parker probably won’t either.
“I wanted to do something fun.”
“I’ll say you accomplished it. You look really good.”
I give her a smile, then shift my gaze back out onto the dance floor. Her eyes follow.
“Don’t worry, that’s only their first dance, and I think the last. She kept begging him for one earlier until he finally agreed.”
Turning to face her, I shrug. Standing taller and holding my head high, I speak confidently, “I’m not worried.”
“Good.”
She looks over my shoulder and waves enthusiastically to someone. “Hey, I’ll be right back.”
“Sure. See you around.”
I walk around for a while, checking out all the items up for auction, when I hear a laugh I would know anywhere; deep and sexy as hell. Looking over to the bar, my eyes land on a tall woman dressed as Catwoman. Her tight black jumpsuit frames every curve of her body. Next to her is a man dressed as Batman, and next to him is a man in all orange. There is a shackle around his right ankle and handcuffs around his left wrist only. I hadn’t noticed that earlier.
I walk up slowly behind him, brushing my shoulder softly against his as I squeeze my way between him and Batman, breaking them apart.
“Excuse me, beautiful,” Batman says to me. I don’t pay him any attention, flipping my fire-red hair off my right shoulder, and exposing my long neck to Parker.
Someone is clearing his throat. I’m not sure if Parker recognizes me, but if he does he doesn’t indicate it.
Ignoring those around me, and not paying attention to the others trying to get the bartender’s attention, I speak loudly, giving the good-looking gentleman my drink order. “I’ll take a glass of Brut, please.” It’s not your fancy champagne, but it’s cheap, which is all I care about. I can’t drink it, but it helps me get Parker’s attention. I’ll give the drink to Shannon or Genna.
I don’t know if this is an open bar or not, so I open my clutch to grab some cash when I see someone lay a twenty on the bar top.
“Thanks.”
I want to play hard to get with Parker, or at least see how long it takes for him to recognize me. My fire red wig is long and curly and my makeup is extra thick, playing up the cartoon look. I have on purple eyeshadow, multiple layers of mascara and eyeliner, and bright red lipstick. Completing my Jessica Rabbit look is a long, red, strapless sequined dress, slit to mid-thigh, and purple over-the-elbow gloves. It’s sexy, yet classy.
Genna gave me a necklace to help camouflage my chemo port and applied a little makeup to help it blend. No one will notice unless they specifically look for it.
When the bartender gives me my champagne, I rest the flute between my fingers, allowing the bubbles to settle. Looking across the bar, I notice the men on the other side stop their conversation and watch me. I like the power I have over them, and only hope I’m giving Parker the same feeling.
I turn to my right slightly, giving Parker a glimpse of me, and give him a wink. He gives me a slow, sexy grin. Turning all the way around, I come face to face with him, thanks to my high heels, and lean toward his ear. “It looks as if someone has been a bad boy,” I whisper softly which causes him to groan in response.
I’ve never said those words to anyone before, and I silently thank Jessica for giving me the extra courage.
Parker reaches out to grab my waist, but I move out of his grasp to lean back against the bar. His eyes roam slowly over my body, taking in every inch and curve. When he meets my twinkling eyes, I can see the passion in his own; the consent.
Parker brings his hand back to my waist, gripping tightly, and pulls me roughly back into him. He has no shame about showing those around us that I am his.
His. I like the sound of that.
“You have no idea how bad a boy I’ve been,” he says seductively as he looks at my lips. Not caring who is around us, I bring my mouth up to his, but wait to bring them together. We’ve never kissed in public before, but I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of being his friend. I want more.