She's the kind of beautiful that stops you in your tracks. And I'm the kind of disaster that should keep walking. But here I am, standing at the edge of the precipice, looking down at the one person who's ever made me want to jump.

I just hope to hell I don't drag her down with me.

6. Vodka, Lime And Old Flames

CHAPTER 6

VODKA, LIME AND OLD FLAMES

NORA

"Wow." The word escapes me in a breath as I take in the chaos before us. Jake runs a hand through his tousled chestnut hair, his eyes following mine as we scan the room.

"Yeah, I guess I forgot to mention it gets a little wild with these people." He catches my stunned expression and grasps both of my hands, his touch grounding me in the mayhem. "We can bail if you want?”

"No, it's okay," I manage, though my heart pounds against my ribs like a trapped bird.

I'd braced myself for the typical markers of wealth—marble floors, soaring chandeliers, artwork worth more than my college tuition.

But this? This is a collision of worlds: old money meets frat house chaos. Farrah's guest list seems to include half the town's population, transforming the mansion's vast foyer and sunken living area into a writhing sea of bodies.

The air is thick with perfume, sweat, and spilled drinks. Bass thunders from the DJ booth near the pool, vibrating through my bones. Couples tangle in shadowed corners while a girl in a gossamer dress twirls through the crowd, lost in her own private dance.

Eden isn't just a place—it's the place in the summertime. But this isn't your average college party; it's an elitist playground where old-money families have interwoven their lives for generations. The last time I attended one of these parties, invisibility became my shield. Tonight, I'm hoping for the same superpower.

Jake's arm threads through mine as we navigate the crowd, his presence an anchor in the chaos. "Thirsty?" he asks.

My eyes betray me, drifting to Nate by the pool. A tall blonde—Farrah, I assume—clings to him, her dress barely more than a whisper against her skin. The sight twists something deep in my chest. "Actually, a drink sounds good," I say, hoping the tremor in my voice isn't as obvious as it feels.

"Vodka or beer?"

"Surprise me," I respond with a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes. If I'm going to survive tonight, I need something to dull these sharp edges.

"You good to wait here a sec?" Jake's tone is light, but his eyes search mine with concern.

"Sure." The thought of diving into that sea of bodies makes my anxiety spike higher than it already is.

"All right, I'll be right back. Don't get into trouble while I'm gone," he says before heading for the bar.