“You’re out!” Sullivan shouts, pointing to the door.
“I didn’t do shit—” Drunk Guy starts, but Jesse goes for him again, and Drunk Guy flinches, thinking better of arguing, and heads for the door.
Everyone’s eyes are on me now, filled with everything ranging from pity to curiosity. I hear mumblings of who is she? What just happened? Are they together? I feel my cheeks heat, hating the unwanted attention.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” Jesse shouts, turning in a circle. “It’s a party. Start fucking partying.”
The music starts back up, the lights are cut, and thankfully, everyone goes about their business when they realize the drama is over. Jesse runs a hand through the hair that’s fallen onto his forehead before bending at the waist to pluck my boot out of the crowd. When he extends his arm in offering, I snatch the boot from his grasp before shoving my foot into it, turning to leave without a word.
Jesse is hot on my heels. Once I make it to the porch, away from prying eyes, I spin around to face him. “I didn’t need your help,” I snap. I’ve dealt with way worse. If I can handle handsy guys at bars and concert venues, I can easily handle a sloppy schoolboy.
“Don’t flatter yourself. That wasn’t for you,” he says.
“Oh, really? You just decided to pick a fight for the fun of it?”
“I, uh, I’m just gonna…” Halston trails off, wiggling a manicured nail toward the party before slipping back inside.
“That’s exactly it. I was spoiling for a fight. An opportunity presented itself, so I took it.”
I take him in, contemplating my next words. He seems different. His hair is longer than it was a few weeks ago. Unkempt. But it’s beyond his appearance. Something inside has changed, too. I just don’t know him well enough to know what that something is.
“Next time you’re looking for trouble, leave me out of it.”
* * *
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU looking at?” I ask the freshman taking money at the door who witnessed Allie telling me off. He quickly averts his eyes, moving to stand at the edge of the porch at the top of the stairs.
I feel like a fucking tool watching Allison’s back as she walks away from me. What I said was mostly true. I have been spoiling for a fight, but I do a damn good job of internalizing my shit. Until it comes to her, apparently.
The minute Daniels laid his hands on her, I knew there’d be trouble. Girls like Allison aren’t here to get laid. I knew by her body language that day in her dorm that casual sex wasn’t something she made a habit of. I stood back and watched as she pushed him away, letting her handle it. She’s not my problem. Not my girl. She reminds me of Lo, the way she carries herself. The way she uses sarcasm as a shield. And when Daniels called her ugly and a bitch to boot, I didn’t think. I just swung.
Allison wasn’t swooning or preening like a peacock like the other girls would be. She stood there in the bright room with one shoe on, while everyone stared at her like some sort of zoo animal. No, she wasn’t basking in the attention. She was embarrassed. And angry. Very angry. Seemingly at me.
Probably has something to do with how you parted ways, dumbass.
I had her tits in my mouth, then I bailed on her, and from the looks of things, she isn’t interested in picking up where we left off. She’s pissed. I get it. But it’s not like I could’ve called to apologize if I wanted to. I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly enough to get her number when my future was being flushed down the shitter.
I dig into my jeans pocket, pulling out my smokes before lighting one up. I all but quit for lacrosse. Now I can do whatever the hell I want, and fuck, I feel free. Lookie there, another silver lining. I hear my name being yelled, and I turn around to see Kaylee and Kylie impatiently waiting for me, dressed in tight white tank tops and short skirts with neon handprints all over their tight little bodies, and matching pouts on their faces. I take a drag, holding up a finger to let them know I’ll be back in a minute.
“Five bucks,” I hear the freshman tell someone.
“Just here to get my girl.”
I smirk, feeling sorry for the poor bastard who has to rescue his girlfriend, but when I turn to face him, he looks familiar with his lip ring and the plugs in his ears. I narrow my eyes, trying to place him.
“Sorry, man. Five bucks,” the freshman repeats. Dude works his jaw in annoyance before shoving past him. He stops short when I block the doorway, crossing my arms and blowing the smoke from my cigarette toward him.
“Problem?” I ask.
“You,” he accuses, his eyes slanting with recognition. I raise my brows at his tone.
“Me.” I chuckle, swinging my arms open wide.
“I’m here for Allie.”
The smirk drops from my face when it clicks. This is the guy from the bar. The one who touched Allison’s body with the familiarity of someone who knows it intimately.
“Rules are rules.” I shrug, just to be a dick, flicking my cigarette behind him. The freshman stomps it out for me.