Irresistible by Liz Bankes Page A

loser.”
    Cleo grabs my hand. “Come on. Into the devil’s lair.”

Chapter 12
    I can see flickering lights up ahead as I stumble toward the pool house. Cleo’s dragging me forward forcefully, which is fortunate, really, because otherwise I would probably veer off into the pool and drown.
    As we get closer, it looks like the pool house is glowing. Between the pillars are three floor-to-ceiling doors, all wide open and flinging light onto the water. Inside is an open-plan kitchen and living room with a stone floor, white walls, and arching wooden beams forming the roof. I spot two doors along the back walls that are closed but must lead to the bedroom and bathroom. There are people sitting in groups everywhere, and Jamie holds court from a mahogany armchair surrounded by girls. He watches us, but Cleo leads me to the other side of the room where two girls are sitting.
    “This is Nish and Effy,” Cleo says. “They’re lesbians.”
    “Oh, good,” I say and mentally kick my brain.
    “They’re my only female friends. Every other girl in here is trying to sleep with my boyfriend.”
    I try to look at Nish and Effy, but really all I see are outlines of hair and a glittery headband.
    From then on everything happens in flashes, a series of images and clips of conversation. For a while I am on a sofa talking to a guy with a mop of wavy red hair. I’m saying, “You’re William?”
    “I’m Willem,” he assures me.
    “William,” I tell him.
    “Will-em.”
    I shake my lopsided head at him. “No, no. That’s not a real name.”
    He melts away and then I’m by the side of the drinks table and a guy with spiky black hair leans over to whisper something in my ear and at the same time puts his hand on my butt.
    Cleo appears and rescues me. “Hands off, cretin.”
    I blink and suddenly I am sitting on the steps outside. I’m with a guy who possibly just told me he’s named Toby and has a friendly smile and lots of curly hair. He’s smoking a joint and I ask for some, telling him, for some unknown reason, that I do it all the time. Just a tiny bit has my head swimming and fiery tingles racing through my hands and feet. The next thing I know, I’m poking the boy and showing him my hand. “Toby, Toby, my finger’s on fire!”
    A hand grabs the back of my dress and pulls me up. Perhaps it’s Jamie. Perhaps he’ll kiss me.
    It’s Cleo. “Come on. We’re dancing.”
    My eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness after sitting by the lights around the pool. Drum and bass music reverberatethrough the floor, and bodies all around me are moving in a blur. There’s Cleo’s face at the center, and we start moving. For the first time in a long time, I’m doing crazy dancing and I don’t care. And then Cleo’s hands are on my face. She pulls me forward and our lips meet. I can taste the alcohol on her mouth, which spreads through my body, and I kiss her back.
    “A little attention-seeking, even for you.” His voice comes from behind me.
    Cleo pulls back and smiles at him, triumphant. She drops her hands back down to her sides and I stumble backward, into his hard chest.
    “Oh, dear. What would the pot washer say?” His jaw is level with the top of my head. I slow my breathing down. I need water.
    “Okay!” he shouts, almost giving me a heart attack. “Turn off this drivel.” And he’s gone from behind me. A moment later the music cuts out and there’s the scratch of a record starting. It’s something classical and dramatic.
    As the conversation dies and people gradually start to look at Jamie, I use the pause to go to the sink and get water. Jamie looks over at me, and I feel good that I’m not immediately jumping to attention. I try to saunter back over like I don’t really care what he’s going to do, but I keep a hand on the kitchen counter to maintain my balance, because I think the sauntering will probably lose its effect if I fall on my face.
    Jamie sits back in his chair. “You look like you’ve