Chapter 1: Whiskey and Collisions
The bass from downstairs rattled the door as Veronica, high and restless, pins Gavin against the closet—her leather jacket still on, his hands already under it, both too drunk to care about the voices outside. She tastes like whiskey and defiance; he smells like sweat and cheap cologne, their bodies stumbling into each other like a collision they’ve been waiting for. They fall against the bed.
The mattress sighed, old springs complaining. Her knee landed between his legs, an accidental pressure that made him gasp into her mouth. “Fuck,” he breathed, the word warm and damp against her lips.
“Yeah,” she said, not a question, her voice all smoke. She dragged her teeth along his jaw, feeling the stubble catch. His hands were frantic under the jacket, palms sliding over the thin cotton of her t-shirt, searching for the shape of her. He found her ribs instead, the pronounced ladder of them, and for a second his fingers stilled.
She froze, too. The moment hung, a crystal of pure anxiety.
Then his touch softened, molding to the slight curve of her waist, and he pulled her fully on top of him. The relief was a drug. She let her weight settle, a solid, real thing. “Better,” she muttered, more to herself than him.
“You’re always better.” His voice was slurry with drink but his eyes, when she leaned back to look, were startlingly clear. Blue-grey and focused. It was unnerving.
She covered his eyes with her hand. “Don’t.”
He laughed, a low rumble in his chest she felt everywhere. “Why not?”
“Just don’t.” She replaced her hand with her mouth, kissing him to shut him up, to shut everything up. The party, the thoughts, the awful, yawning need. His hands went to her hips, guiding a slow, grinding rhythm against him. The denim of his jeans was rough against her inner thighs. Music bled through the floor, a distorted pulse they moved against, out of sync. Someone shouted in the hall. They didn’t stop. His thumbs hooked into the belt loops of her leather pants, pulling her closer with a desperate, quiet urgency. “Veronica.”