He leans against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, wearing dark denim with white sneakers and a dark grey shirt.
I sigh. I miss his arms.
"Hi."
"Hey, baby," he says. "Why don't you come out now? We got a keg."
"We have drinks."
"I don't," Kira says, looking at her empty glass.
"Well, there you go. Your friend wants a beer; be a good host."
"I'm not a host," I say. "I just need a minute. We'll be out in a second."
"Don't make me come and drag you out. Elias is getting really antsy about you being back here; I really don't want to deal with his broody self."
He closes the door behind him, and I realize I'm not only worried about Elias or my stalker—especially not with a bunch of people around. I'm worried about something else.
I'm worried that in a room full of people, Dax won't want me, and it'll hurt. What the fuck is wrong with me? How could I even feel like this after everything he's done?
Oh, well. Maybe it's better to just get it over with so I can put the twisted attachment I have to him to bed.
"Your brother must be really concerned about you with all of that ex-boyfriend stuff. I'm kind of surprised—you made it sound like you two really hated each other, and he was some kind of monster."
"He is. And we do."
Kira shrugs. "At the end of the day, you're still family, though, I guess."
No. No, we're not. That's not what this is at all.
Sighing, I pull my already-tipsy self off the floor. "Let's just get this over with."
I walk out of the room and into a cloud of smoke. There are more than just a few people here—the living room is packed. The kitchen table is being used for beer pong, and Kira's playlist has been swapped out for something leaningmore toward alterative rock and metalcore, which I know from living with him for so long must be Elias. He would constantly blare his music to annoy me—to the point that it rattled the books on my shelves. I never bothered to tell him it didn't work because I liked the same thing. If he'd taken even five seconds to try to get to know me, that's the first thing he would have noticed.
We both grab a cup and beer from the keg, hanging back in the kitchen while even more people shove their way into the already-crowded townhouse. Elias and Dax play beer pong; neither of them notice me, and if they do, they certainly don't acknowledge me.
They don't seem too concerned with hunting my stalker, either.
A couple of girls walk in, and Kira waves them over; apparently, they also live in our building and have become fast friends of hers. I guess it shouldn't surprise me she's made so many friends so quickly…but I am a little jealous. I sip my beer, zoning out their conversation, my eyes settling on Dax, who places his hand on the small of another girl's back before leaning over and whispering something into her ear. She swats at him, both of them laughing, and I accidentally make eye contact with him as she walks off.
Good. Let it hurt. End it.
"You don't look like you're having very much fun," Nolan says, leaning against the cabinets beside me.
I jump. "Jesus, Nolan."
"I've been watching you drink for hours, and you're still this fucking jumpy? Get any more text messages?"
"No, nothing today. And you don't look like you're having any fun, either. I don't think I've ever seen you look like you're having fun, actually."
"Well, that's not entirely true, is it?"
Blood rushes to my face. Maybe hedidknow I could see him.
And then he smiles—he actually fucking smiles…at me.
My cheeks are on fire.
