Audrey frowns, looking genuinely disappointed by my decision to leave. She tips her cup toward me. “Are you sure I can’t entice you to stay with one of these amazing vodka sodas?”
Despite the knots in my stomach, I manage a laugh. “I’m sure. Thank you, though. It was nice to see you again.”
“You, too,” she says with a smile. I give a bit of an awkward wave, but as I turn to walk away, she calls my name.
I glance back at her. “Yeah?”
“Things have a way of working out, okay? Maybe don’t give up quite yet.”
I nod and force a smile I don’t feel. “Thanks.”
Weaving through the party in search of Wes, my heart pounds with the knowledge that Mason’s here and I’ve somehow lost track of him. During spring break, I traced every move he made, but now I fumble blindly through the crowd.
Once I’ve searched the downstairs with no luck, I step onto the deck and scan the mass of people. I don’t find Wes, but when I glance down at the yard, I spot Mason Bryce talking to a pretty red-haired girl.
My spine snaps straight. From the outside, their conversation looks normal. Just a boy and a girl talking in the shadow of the trees. But when I peer closer, I notice the way he’s positioned to block the girl’s exit and that her posture seems stiff and unnatural. Her eyes keep darting to the side like she’s looking for an escape route, and I recognize the look.
It’s the same look I had.
The same look Chloe had over spring break.
A sudden, sick feeling twists my stomach, and I give another frantic glance around the deck. Wes is nowhere to be found, and no one else is paying attention to the couple in the backyard, half-hidden by foliage.
It’s not your problem,says that voice in my head, urging me to back away and leave them be. I should focus on my own issues because let’s be real. I have a lot of them. But even though it’s not technically my problem, the urge to protect this girl surges through me, overpowering reason.
Before I can fully think through what I’m about to do, I stride down the stairs and across the lawn in their direction. The girl’s eyes widen as she notices my approach, and Mason glances over his shoulder, following her gaze. His eyes narrow.
I ignore him even though his gaze on my body makes me want to crawl out of my skin. Even though my heart’s pounding so hard, I wouldn’t be surprised if they could hear it.
Taking a deep breath, I will my voice to come out normal. I fight to keep it strong and steady, injecting my tone with confidence I don’t feel. “Hey, sorry to interrupt,” I tell the girl, wishing I knew her name, “but Quinn said she’s looking for you.”
Mason’s lip curls like he sees right through me. “Who’s Quinn?”
I don’t take my eyes off the girl’s. “Our friend,” I lie, clasping my hands behind my back so that he can’t see the way they’retrembling. It’s a fucking miracle I was able to get my words out without a stutter.
The relief in the girl’s eyes is obvious, and I know I made the right decision. She attempts a wobbly smile, taking a step toward me, away from him. “Oh. Yes. Thanks for coming to get me.”
I smile back at her, just as forced, and stumble over my words this time. “N-no problem.”
“Find her later,” Mason demands, but she’s already moving around him, giving her back to his annoyed expression. She twines her arm with mine, wincing as he calls, “Hey, wait a sec!”
We ignore him. We keep walking, arm and arm, until we make it up the stairs, onto the deck, and become absorbed in the crowd of people.
“Thank you,” she says to me, letting go. “Do you know that guy?”
I grimace. “Unfortunately, I do.”
I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t stop myself from glancing over my shoulder at the last second, only to find Mason rooted in place, his face twisted with an expression I can only describe as furious.
His eyes are trained dead on me.
My chest compresses, breathing becoming difficult, and I quickly face forward again. My skin burns, and there are suddenly too many bodies out here. Too many people around me, sucking up oxygen and radiating heat.
I stumble off the deck, back into the kitchen, and head straight for the downstairs bathroom. It’s occupied, though, with a line down the hall, and I whirl to face the staircase. I doubt Wes would mind if I used his bathroom to compose myself, especially in an emergency, so I dart up the steps and slip inside his room, finding it empty.
After locking the bathroom door, I brace my hands against the sink, sucking air through my teeth as I stare at my reflection.Sweat beads across my forehead, and my hair sticks to my neck. I tug at the collar of my t-shirt, trying to think of anything besides Mason’s eyes on my face, Mason’s breath in my ear, Mason’s hands on my wrists, Mason’s body on top of me?—
Wes.
