"Sutton, this isn't drama. This is a guy harassing you. Your boyfriend should know."
"He's just trying to get my attention.”
"He's showing up at places you frequent without invitation. That's harassment." She leans forward. "And the fact that youdon't want to tell Declan is exactly why you need to tell him. Communication, remember? That was the whole thing you guys were working on."
She's right. I know she's right.
But the thought of adding to all the stuff bothering Declan makes my chest tight.
"I'll tell him," I say finally. "Just not right now. When things settle down."
"Things don't settle down, Sutton. You have to make them settle down." She takes a sip of her coffee. "Just promise me if that asshole escalates, you'll say something."
"I promise."
"Good. Now, speaking of your boyfriend—how are things with you two?"
"Good. I’m not pressuring him. I’m letting him mull over the whole Seattle thing. We’ll talk when he’s ready. I don’t want to be the nagging girlfriend.”
“Sometimes they need a little nagging.”
I laugh. “So, what’s with you and Crew? I noticed the way you looked at each other last night.”
Keira blushes. “I don’t know. I’ve known him most of my life. Our families have spent holidays together, but I’ve always thought of him like an obnoxious cousin.”
“Doesn’t look like that anymore,” I tease.
“I’m not jumping into anything. He’s fun to flirt with.”
“Uh-huh.”
When I get home that afternoon, I'm planning to shower and study before my evening shift at the restaurant.
Instead, I find Bree in the living room.
She's wearing the same clothes from last night—a tight dress and heels that are so over-the-top for a basic house party. Her hair is messy in that obvious just-got-out-of-bed way, and her makeup is smudged.
"Oh! Sutton!" She gives me that bright, fake smile. "I didn't know you were home."
"Just got back.”
She looks me up and down. I see her disdain. I don’t know why she dislikes me so much, but I suppose the feeling is mutual.
I cannot wait to get away from her.
“Excuse me, I need to get ready for work.”
“That must be so hard, having to work so much while the rest of us just get to have fun. I don't know how you do it."
The condescension is unmistakable. The implication is clear—I'm the poor girl who has to work while everyone else parties.
"I manage."
"I'm sure you do. I can't imagine trying to be with someone like Declan, who's used to a certain lifestyle."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing!" She widens her eyes innocently. "I just mean, his family has money, and he is expected to look a certain way." Her eyes once again move over my outfit. “Dress a certain way.”
