She shrugs, her eyes moving to find him through the crowd. “He’s cute.”
“He’s an ass.”
“He’s got a cute one of those too.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing. You know he’s bad news.”
“I know what we’ve heard. Rumors spread, Violet. Doesn’t make them true.”
I’m not very interested in sticking around suddenly. Like Everleigh, I’m ready to call it a night. “You know what, never mind. Are you good on your own? I’m heading out, too,” I decide.
“Fletch will make sure I get home.”
I don’t trust that, but if she does, what can I do?
“If that changes, call or text, okay?”
Just because I don’t agree with her choices doesn’t mean I wouldn’t come running if she needed my help. Fletcher approaches us again, a beer in hand for Sylvia. I eye it as he hands it over. I reach out to hug her, whispering in her ear, “Please use your head and be careful.” I can tell when I pull away she doesn’t care what I have to say.
“I got her,” Fletcher promises, but I don’t believe a word that comes out of him. We may have heard rumors, but I’ve seen how he’s moved on from one girl to the next on campus. I’ve literally walked by him one week with one girl there to see a different one on his lap the next. And I’ve noticed the looks they’ve all sent his way after their time came to an end.
And for what?
That many people don’t have bugs up their asses for nothing.
Fletcher fucked them over. I don’t know the details of how, but he’s not the saint Sylvia thinks he is, and my gut tells me she’s going to find that out the hard way.
Closing out my tab is a quick and painless endeavor aside from fitting through the throng of people and waving a bartender over. I head to the bathroom after, knowing if I don’t empty my bladder now, I’ll need to when I’m on my ride home. That isn’t so quick, however. The little hall, basically a small room leading to the bathroom doors, is congested. It’s worse inside the restroom. As if everyone decided at the same time to relieve themselves I stand in line, wait for my turn, and wash my hands quickly before I push back out into the hall, which is less packed than before.
Moving my way back out to the center of the club, a Drake song plays, and I slip my phone out of my back pocket to schedule an Uber. I could walk, but I’m not about to put myself in a vulnerable position after having a few drinks.
I search for the number I have saved in my contacts but before I hit the button, a shadow moves over me. I stumble back a step and find the same guy from Fletcher’s party that handed Sylvia the drink she guzzled so carelessly.
A cocky smirk spreads across his face, showing off his too-white teeth. He looks like Fletcher, save for the curve of his nose and the babyface he sports. I can smell the alcohol on his breath the second he opens his mouth, and it only makes me inwardly grimace as my skin crawls with the bad vibes he gives off.
“Hey, babe.”
I give him a tight smile. “Not interested.”
I try to move around him, but he spins on me, towering over me with long legs and an intimidating torso that I’m sure works wonders for him on the football field. Here, they’re intimidating, and I don’t like it. Another body bumps into mine as I shift further away, pushing me back into his space. The look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t care that I’ve turned him away. He gets what he wants. At least, that’s what I bet he’s thinking.
“Did I say Iaminterested?”
“No. You don’t need to because as I said, I’m not.”
“Ah.” His eyes crawl down my body and that stupid grin of his grows. “That tells me you’ve been looking a little too closely to not be interested.”
Does he realize that he’s making zero sense?
“I’m not. If you’ll excuse me.” Clutching my phone, I move around him again, breathing out a sigh of relief that even I can’t hear in a place like this.
Hands grab my waist, and without much effort, my body gets pulled back into a hard chest. Warm breath hits my ear and my body tenses. “Who said I was done talking?”
My stomach constricts, bile immediately rising. I turn my head to the side, pushing at his hands in an effort to ward him off. “Let go.”
His hands only tighten their hold. “How about a dance?”
I struggle to shift out of his grasp.
