It feels cozy butrich.
“My Buddy” by G-Unit is playing which is unexpected but I’m not mad at it.
When Tas and I clink our glasses together in the crowded bar, I grin at her as I take a gulp, then I dive right in.
“Cyn said you dated Sylvan.” I arch a brow, eyeing her jacket, only a red crop top beneath it.
She’s not wearing Sylvan’s name on her back right now and for reasons I chalk up to being fearful for her life because he’s insane, I feel good about that.
Her eyes widen and she takes another drink from her vodka cran, stalling to answer.
I laugh at that, unashamed. I’m tipsy, but I’m also digging Tas. She’s cool. And right now Cynthia and Karter are roped into conversation with two guys who look vaguely like football players at the table behind us, and Cynthia is smiling her face off, so she’s good.
“Datedis a strong word,” Tas says, her voice crisp and clear.
I’m unsurprised. “Tell me more.” I have to practically shout over the music, the people. There’s a line around us to get a drink, and more than a few guys look our way, but I’m not interested in them.
Not right now.
I might have midterms coming up, two essays due in two weeks that I haven’t started, and a murder investigation hanging over my head, but in my drunken state, this is more important.
Tas chews her bottom lip, her nose crinkled up as she glances at her drink, clutched between red-painted nails that match mine.
“Okay, so, we hooked up a few times.” Her eyes seem to light up as she says it, which surprises me. Not that they hooked up—which makes me feel weird and I couldn’t say why—but that she seems so giddy about it. Surely, she’s had better…right?
I take another drink.
I might finish this one before I find out the short history she has with the 20-year-old freshman, the way things are going.
“But he’s…”
A psychopath? A murderer? Batshit crazy?
In my head, I see him pinning Will to the stove top. Lying about sleeping with me, casually to Faust. I don’t know how that conversation went myself, but I can see him dropping the news like it’s no big deal, even though sleeping with me is a privilege.
One I should maybe use more sparingly.
I suck in my cheeks but don’t dare say a word to interrupt Tasia as she searches for her own description of Sylvan Connor.
She lifts her jade eyes to mine and when she blinks, the carefree, happy girl seems gone for a moment as the reality of Sylvan Connor weighs down her mind.
“Intense. Too much.”
“Was he obsessed with you?” My voice is hoarse as I ask the question. Why do I care? I didn’t know he existed until about three days ago. “Like… stalker-ish?” Maybe that’s a leading question but I need to know if he just does this to every girl he wants to sleep with.
It won’t change anything. If I’m being honest, he scares me. And I don’t want to fuck someone I’m scared of.
I don’t think.
Tas shakes her head once, and that annoying feeling of relief warms through me. I take another drink, straightening my spine, one leg crossed over the other under the bar as I watch Tas struggle through whatever it is she wants to say next. For a girl who seems unhindered, she’s certainly choosing her words carefully about this topic.
“No.” Her cheeks blush pink and she glances down, straightening the edges of her short black skirt. Her throat rolls as she swallows. “He couldn’t have made it more clear he’s not interested in me. Like that.”
I think of her wearing his name on her back just last night.
She doesn’t seem like the type of girl to beg but I guess there’s always one guy who can get us on our knees.
“But when he fucks…”
