“I was just leaving.”
“Probably a good idea,” Whitney says. “The balding dads are slim pickings out there. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to snag one.”
My glare snaps to Whitney like a whip.
Hesitation crosses her expression, but it disappears as soon as her gaze flicks back to Eva.
“Don’t worry about me, sweetie.” Eva gives her a humorless smile. “Your daddy keeps me busy enough.” Dropping her glass into a dead houseplant, Eva walks past us, bumping Whitney’s shoulder in the process.
“Eva,wait,” I growl.
She pauses but doesn’t look back.
“Whitney, leave.”
“Easton,” Whitney hisses. The word fires like a bullet, but her eyes plead with me. “Anything you can say to her, you can say in front of me. I’m yourgirlfriend.” Her gaze slides to Eva. “She’s just a dirty little girl her own parents didn’t even want.”
Eva’s shoulders tense. Her fingers curl at her sides, then, slowly, they release. Just like that, she resumes walking down the hall and disappears into the crowd.
When I swing my focus back to Whitney, anger rushes through me so violently my fucking bones shake under my skin. Her eyes widen at my expression, but she holds her stance.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” My voice is so low and unsteady I hardly recognize it.
“Okay, so maybe that was a little too far.” She glances away, chewing her lip. “But come on, you have to know this is messed up. I’m not the only one who knows you locked yourself in the bathroom with her at Marco’s house.”
The wave of surprise at that knowledge isn’t enough to cool the mounting rage.
“Jesus, Easton. You really can’t see how bad this looks, can you? I mean, it was one thing to catch you staring at her all the time, but this?”
My muscles pull tight. There’s no way I was that obvious. Lately though ...
Whitney arches a brow. “Didn’t think I noticed, did you?” Crossing her arms, she lets out a sigh. “But whatever. You two can dig yourself a hole if you want. Next time, it won’t be me to catch you trysting in a dark hallway, and we both know how your mother will take it.” She looks at her nails. “Anyway, I’m just trying to help is all. I mean, why even risk it when you and Eva are too different to ever work out long-term?”
Denial runs down my back at her last words. She’s right about one thing. Sooner or later, we’re gonna get caught, and it’s Eva who will take the brunt of it, not me. At least this fake relationship with Whitney takes some of the spotlight away from me and Eva, but even that won’t be enough if I don’t back off. I need to avoid her, like I used to. But just the thought is poison in my veins, eating away at my resolve. The feeling brings anger back to the forefront.
My eyes narrow. “Stay out of my fucking business. It’s that simple.”
She glares back. “I’m just trying to help.”
“You can say it three goddamn times if you want, doesn’t change the fact I don’t want your help.” Steam clouds my vision. “If I ever catch you talking to Eva like that again, our deal is off.”
She gapes at me. “You can’t do that. Our agreement is through senior year. Besides, I know you too well. You won’t go back on a deal. It’s not in your makeup, and we have too much history to turn a blind eye to each other.”
“We have no history, Whitney. It’s all bullshit. I play the role you need me to play in public, I’m there when you need to see your mom, and you pay me for it. That’s it. That’s the extent of what this is.”
Her brows raise, and she releases a sharp breath. “Well ... you care about me on some level. I know it,” she whispers. “There’s a reason I pay you as much as I do. You started helping me before money was ever on the table.”
Any other day, I’d feel guilty for making her voice break, but her remark toward Eva is a solid wedge in my chest, blocking the emotion from rising.
“And anyway,” she huffs, “you won’t be able to afford law school without my help. Unless you change your mind about taking Daddy’s money, you need me more than I need you.”
“How about you figure out your shit, and I’ll figure out mine?” Gritting my teeth, I turn around.
Whitney’s heels click-clack after me. “Maybe you can’t see it now, but you’ll thank me eventually. One day, when you’ve saved up enough to move out and start your own company, when you’re so successful you become twice the man your father is, you’ll look back on this stupid, toxic crush and realize how much better off you are without her.”
She has no idea what she’s talking about. The real reason I’m paying my own way through law school has as little to do withsuccessas my desire to become a cop first, but people like Whitney or my parents can’t grasp that. Regardless, as we’re swallowed by a sea of forced chatter, fake smiles, and high-end designer clothes, her words replay in my head. She just proved how little we actually know each other, and yet, a bitter flame inside me won’t die.
Stupid, toxic crush.
