He’s been quiet tonight, and I’m not sure what it means. Normally I’m begging him to be quiet, but this hurts my head.
“Where are you going?” he asks, and I tilt my head—or maybe everything else tilts—because I thought I made it clear where I was going.
“To the bar for more shots?” I say, twisting the chain between my fingers, warm from his body heat. “What’s this for?”
Jack’s face softens, and I think I’m imagining the concern swimming in his crystal eyes. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough, darlin’?” he asks, but I can’t think because his hands are on me, and all I can think about is how it’d feel to have them all over me instead.
“No,” I say, another laugh slipping from me, and his lips tease the ghost of a smile.
“Alondra,” he says, his hand closing around mine to pull it from his necklace, and I feel my stomach drop.
Oh my god. What am I doing? He’s one of Dad’s players, and I’m his tutor. That’s all this can be.
I shake my head, stepping back from him, feeling the room spin as the music grows louder, pounding through my head. “Go back to the table, I’m fine, Jack.” Someone walking by bumps into me, and I grab the barstool next to me for stability. His eyebrows knit as he looks at me, frowning, and before he can say anything, I realize I’m nervous because of Jack. What the fuckis going on with me? “I need to pee,” I squeak out, retreating toward the bathroom to hide, hoping he won’t follow me.
I do actually have to use the bathroom, and thankfully, it’s not too busy for a Saturday night. After washing my hands, I take a few deep breaths, trying to untangle the chaos in my head, which is worse than a pair of neglected headphones.
I shouldn’t want anything to do with Jack, but I’m starting to feel like my old self again—the one I said goodbye to.
Fuck, pull it together.
I’m drunk. That’s all this is. I don’t actually want him to kiss or touch me, and I don’t want to know whatever shitty meaning lies behind his stupid necklace.
Jack isn’t your friend—he’s a hockey player, and not just any player, he’s Dad’sstarhockey player.
But Jack is . . . stubborn, hot, and a great kisser. He makes me feel something, even if I shouldn’t.
Two girls stumble into the bathroom, jolting me from my silent conversation with myself, and I slide past them, exiting the bathroom. I move toward the bar, and I feel like my life flashes before my eyes at the sight of the guy I’ve successfully avoided for the last nine months.
My feet stop of their own accord, and I’m frozen, caught in a replay of all the horrible moments with Bradley right up until the moment he left me lying broken on the ground at the bottom of his front steps in the freezing cold like I was no better than a broken doll he was tired of playing with.
I’m not even sure if I’m breathing, my throat constricting to the point I’m choking on the air intended to keep me alive.
Al, move before he sees you.
Bradley’s hunched over the pool table in the corner of the bar with some of his friends. His back is to me, so there’s no way I’ve been spotted, but even the close proximity of being in the same room as him sobers me.
And then I make eye contact with Jack after he spins around with two waters in his hands, a smile transforming his face.
My shock and horror must not show on my face because he walks in my direction, extending a water to me. “You should drink this. It’ll help make you feel less shitty in the morning,” he says, and I blink, staring at it.
I shouldn’t be here. Iknewtonight was a bad idea.
“Al?”
I blink again, looking up at Jack who is beginning to look at me in a way that makes my blood pound in my ears.
“I need to go,” I say, unable to help from taking another glance to make sure his back is still to me.Move, Alondra.
Jack looks in the same direction I did, but unlike me, he’s noticeable in a crowded room, and it’s enough to kick me into gear.
I move through the crowd of people, desperate to get out of here. My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I can’t even bring myself to care that I left my roommate and my best friend at the table. The chill hits me the moment I walk out the front door, but the first breath of cold air feels more like inhaling shards of glass, and I try not to disappear into the nightmare I’ve already escaped.
My head spins from the shots like I’m on a merry-go-round unable to stop, moving faster and faster and leaving me no choice but to hold on.
While my mind has cleared, my body hasn’t received the same memo, and my foot slips on one of the stairs, causing me to lurch forward. An arm hooks around my waist, catching me before I can fall face first into the pavement, and I don’t have to look to know it’s Jack.
“Who are you running from?” he asks, his voice somehow breaking through all the noise in my head.
