I shoved back into Trey and took the full brunt of the slushy liquid. The icy shock at my front contrasted strongly with the dry warmth at my back and I couldn’t help the squeal. “Ack.” I curved an arm at my waist so the liquid wouldn’t drip into my pants. “Damn it. Trey, look what you did.” Zoe screeched in the background, but some of her squad mates had pulled her away after the initial throw, so I ignored her. Trey did too. The rest of the party went on around us, like this was a normal occurrence. I grabbed the hem of his dry shirt and rubbed at my waist. “I need a towel.” Trey took my arm without a word, leading the way upstairs and into a large bedroom. He went to the closet and stared inside with a blank expression. I headed to an adjacent door and found his bathroom: grey marble tile, dark wood cabinets. I clicked the lock behind me and struggled free from the wet top. Feeling justified, I used his nice hand towels to wipe my chest, my feet, and new sandals. I smelled like hand soap and the bar at a Mexican restaurant, whereas Trey’s bathroom smelled like his cologne.
