I don’t even know what he did. Sebastian didn’t give me the details. I’m not sure he knows, but here we are, music blaring and way too many people shoving into one space.
Tristan stops ahead of us and pulls Webber, who’s in front of him, to a stop. The four of us form a circle off to the side.
Tristan swipes a hand through his hair, and after seeing it, I guess he is kind of rocking a worried expression. One that says he’s nervous he might’ve lost Everleigh for good. “I’m thinking we split up while I try to track her down. We can meet up after?”
Webber chuckles. “Dude, once I get lost on that dance floor, it might be a while until I come up for air.”
“Fine, then I’ll see you back at the apartment.” Tristan looks over his shoulder, already sweeping the place for his girl. Uncertainty clutches him as he cracks his knuckles in a fist. “If any of you see her, text me, okay?”
Sebastian grips the back of Tristan’s neck. “Relax, dude. I’m sure it isn’t going to be as bad as you think.”
Tristan scoffs. “You weren’t there for our argument.”
I nod at him. “What’d you do, anyway?”
He just shakes his head. “I’m not trying to get into it right now, man. Not when I need to find her and set shit straight.”
“Oh, shit,” Webber exhales. “Did you fuck someone behind her back?”
Tristan’s gaze heats at the accusation. “I’m not you. I don’t run around with other women when I have the one I want already right in front of me.”
Oh, shit.
Webber dips his chin, but I can’t say he doesn’t deserve the blow.
“Let’s not get wound up,” Sebastian says, patting Tristan’s back. “We’re not here to fight with each other. Go find your girl and fix things.”
Webber throws up a peace sign and ducks his way out of our circle, more than happy to get away from Tristan’s testy mood, who goes in his own direction.
Sebastian spins and smacks my arm, yelling over the entertainment. “Want to hit up the bar for a beer?” I’m not totally in the mood to drink. It’s not something I crave, and my day hasn’t been bad enough to warrant getting wasted. Unlike most people our age, I’m not fond of handing over control without a solid reason.
“Pass. Gonna find the bathroom and take a piss.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be at the bar. Come find me when you’re done.”
I nod, and we go different ways. I search for the bathroom, bright lights flickering over the space and fucking with my vision. I catch the sight of two girls eyeing me from a few feet away and scowl to keep them away. Last thing I want is to entertain some chick when I’d rather be back at the apartment. Almost two months of showing up at Gauntlet Sundays has treated my wallet well, but I still have a long way to go. After my last run in with Finn, there’s no way in hell I’m offering any of what I have until it all adds up to a penny over what mom owes.
I’m in my own head as I weave through people, but it doesn’t stop me from scanning the crowd and spotting a bouncer at the far end of the dance floor. He’s there in case he ever needs to maintain order. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s another one lurking in the shadows where no one can spot him, considering the place is crawling with college-aged partiers.
I find the opening for the bathroom over the heads of a bunch of people grouped together. It isn’t until I drain my bladder and am about twenty feet away from the bar, give or take because it’shard to measure it with the crowd, that a familiar voice rocks me on the balls of my feet.
It’s hard to place with the music and all, but once I realize it’s Violet’s, my gaze ricochets off my surroundings.
Her voice comes and goes again, and I search the crowd. I can’t make sense of what the hell she’s saying, but then I find her in between a few others nearby who are dancing and blocking her from my vision. I might be taller than a good percentage of the crowd, but when there are so many people in one tight space, it makes it difficult to see a foot in front of me.
And then I see it.
A guy’s chest pressed to her back, his mouth way too fucking close to her ear. It reminds me of the first time I saw her and Webber together in the kitchen of her apartment, except she looks more uncomfortable now than she did then.
Who the hell is this guy?
He’s way too close to her, and I’m not entirely sure she’s loving it. The scowl that’s on her face is a solid sign of that. It has to be. Of all the times I’ve been around Violet, she’s never given me the impression she’s this kind of girl. One who likes to party and dance with strangers without a care in the world. There’s substance behind her brown eyes and something tells me she’d never share that with a dude who apparently can’t take no for an answer.
I shove my fists into my pant pockets because this paired with Mom texting about Finn coming around is doing shit for my ability to stay calm. That intense feeling I became way too comfortable with as a teenager slowly fills me. I close in, hearing her telling him to get off her once more. My eyes flick to his face and that stupid fucking smirk. I wonder if anyone has ever had the pleasure of wiping it off his face, if he’s ever known what it’s like to get knocked down a peg or be told that his shit does, in fact, stink.
I’m the epitome of calm, cool, and collected on the outside when I approach. In no way does it mirror how I feel internally.
“Let her go, man.”
