I held my breath as his gaze roamed over my body. I shouldn't have been so affected by the way his tongue peeked out between his lips. “As beautiful as you are, it seems you could stand to put on five or ten pounds.”
“Oh, and do you make a point of handing out medical advice everywhere you go?” I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. My shirt hung looser than it had before. I fucking hated that this dude was right. “And, for that matter, where do you think you get off saying a damn thing about how I look?”
The stranger didn't back down. He stood straighter, squared his shoulders, and leaned in slightly. Despite the fact that he was only a few inches taller than me, I felt tiny under his judgmental gaze. Frozen, I couldn't do a damn thing. “Do you always have such a hard time taking a compliment?”
“The last time I checked, I wasn't aware that being told you’re too skinny was a compliment.” I hugged myself tighter, curling in my shoulders and lowering my chin.
I took the plate of food from Jordan. Most of it would be wasted, but that was easier than continuing to argue with someone I didn't know and shouldn't give a shit what he thought about me. Besides, knowing Jordan, he would absolutely withhold alcohol from me until he was satisfied that I had some food in my stomach. He obviously didn’t understand the financial benefit of not having anything to absorb the alcohol.
I wandered around the living area, trying to find a place to sit, but everywhere I looked there were groups of friends talking, making me feel every bit the outsider that I was. I finally settled for a spot on the spiral staircase. The twisted wrought iron banister dug into my back and the stair tread was too narrow, even for my unhealthily skinny ass, but it was better than being forced into a conversation I didn't feel like having.
As I nibbled on the food, which was actually quite good, I watched Jordan. He flitted from one group to the next, as if these had been his people for years rather than months. I hadn't understood how the three of them made their relationship work, but the longer I watched, the more I realized I didn't have to understand. Maybe there was no logic to it; the three of them simply fit together.
When Doug stepped up behind Jordan, wrapping his arms around Jordan's torso and placing his hands on his stomach, my chest tightened. It wasn't the regret of not telling Jordan how I felt about him sooner that had me pressing my fist against my ribcage, it was this intense longing to have what he had.
And then, I looked at Doug. I checked him out as more than my friend’s boyfriend. He was pretty damn fine for his age, and there was something familiar about his gaze when he looked over at me.
Holy shit. That was the connection. The stranger was somehow related to Doug. He had to be. The two of them weren't carbon copies, but the similarities were undeniable.
“You look absolutely miserable.” I rolled my eyes, not surprised when I glanced up and saw the stranger looking down at me.
“You know, as much as you enjoy picking me apart, I feel like I should know your name at the very least.” Not that it truly mattered. At the end of the night, I would head back to my place and he’d return to his fancy house, in his fancy car, and go on with his fancy life that was in a completely different league than my own. But I needed to know. It wasn't optional at this point.
“Fair enough,” the man conceded. He jerked his head to the side, and, without any conscious thought, I scooted even closer to the edge of the step. He moved past me and sat on the tread above mine. I felt the heat from his body when his calf pressed against my arm, then he held out a hand. “I'm Jack.”
It looked as though he debated saying something else but stopped himself. Probably wise, because the man wasn't nearly as funny as he thought. In fact, so far, he’d managed to somehow insult me with every interaction. After staring at his hand for a few seconds, I pressed my palm against his and shook. “It's nice to meet you, Jack.”
“Is it though?” He didn't release me from his grip, and I didn't try to get away. “Every time you so much as see me, you look like you've stepped in something that smells bad.”
“Shit,” I corrected him.
“What?” Jack cocked his head to the side as if he was trying to figure me out.
“The word you're looking for is shit,” I clarified. “I know it's probably beneath a man such as yourself to curse, but we are all adults here. You can do it. Trying to figure out a way to say what you mean without cussing just makes you seem like even more of an arrogant prick.”
“You make an awful lot of assumptions for barely knowing me.”
I smirked, then chuckled. “Well then, now you know how it feels.” Putting an abrupt end to the conversation, I stood and walked away. I was proud of myself for not letting Jack act like he was better than me. He might be able to afford designer, custom-tailored suits, and probably drove a fancy sports car, but that didn't mean he was better than me. And from the way he acted, it was long overdue for someone to knock him down a peg or two.
After tossing my plate into the garbage—upside down so no one would see how little I had eaten—I made a beeline for the area along the perimeter of the room that they had set up as a bar. I knew better than to open any of the hard liquor bottles, but I had come here determined to have a good time. That meant opening one of those fancy bottles.
Further proving how different my life was compared to Jordan's now, there were no plastic cups in sight. It looked as though they had borrowed glassware from the bar downstairs. I scooped a bit of ice into a glass and began pouring myself a drink. I wasn't as good at coming up with tasty concoctions as Jordan was, but I did all right.
Still not in the mood for socializing, I grabbed my glass off the table and headed toward the windows that overlooked the district. There were so many people milling around, heading to the various bars for a night out. It was strange to see so many people out on a weeknight, but I had never been one to go out other than on the weekends. Weeknights had always been for band practice.
The chatter behind me was annoying. I should have stayed home tonight. When I turned around, I felt drawn to the staircase. Jordan had told me a bit about the renovations they'd been doing to create a semi-private living area in the space that wasn't used as Doug's pottery studio. I knew better than to go beyond the space they had deemed as open for the evening, but curiosity got the better of me. I just needed a little time alone. Time to clear my head, so I could come downstairs and be sociable, instead of wallowing in my own misery.
