Frenemies(44)

“I think it’s a pattern,” he said. “Which must suck for you, since you think I’m some illiterate jackass of a spoiled rich boy.”

I opened my mouth and then shut it with a snap. I felt my shoulders sink.

“Which sucks for me,” he continued in a low voice, “because who wants to be into a girl who thinks he’s a jackass? That got old in the fifth grade, believe it or not.”

“Henry …” But I didn’t know what to say. I knew suddenly that despite all of our sparring, I didn’t want to be responsible for hurting him, even in a small way.

“I don’t know why,” he said. “I just like you.” His eyes searched my face. “Obviously, this presents a problem. The jackass issue. But then it occurred to me that you don’t actually know anything about me.”

“I’ve known you for years,” I reminded him. “Almost a decade, in fact.”

He leaned against the wall. “What do I do for a living?”

“You’re a lawyer,” I shot back at once. Then, to be obnoxious: “And you’re a Farland.” The trust fund was implied.

He sighed. “What kind of law do I practice?” he asked.

I thought about it. I had a specific memory of Georgia, ranting about something, years ago—but no, it was gone.

I shrugged.

“Exactly my point,” he said. “You just know the basic outline. You have no idea who I am.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I burst out. I felt way too emotional, and tried to rein it in. “What makes you think I care?”

“I care,” he shot back. “This is part of the adulthood thing I believe we’ve touched on previously. I can’t allow myself to keep having romantic moments with someone who hates me, Gus. Right? That’s only logical.”

“But I don’t know you, so it’s okay?”

“Something like that.” He let his gaze drop, and his smirk reappeared.

“Listen.” I had no idea where I was going, but I kept on, in the desperate hope something might occur to me as I floundered. “I handled the whole sex thing badly, I know that now. It was a rough time. And the last time just kind of—I don’t—I mean, it was for all the wrong reasons …” I broke off, flustered.

“It was for the best reason,” he contradicted me.

He reached across the space between us then, and traced a pattern along my jaw. I felt my body react to that—I sighed a little bit, and felt an ache spread through my limbs.

And then he was kissing me.

And it was hot. His mouth was clever and I couldn’t seem to get close enough, to taste enough. He made a low sort of noise and pushed me back against the wall, angling his head so everything got deeper and hotter.

I had no idea what might have happened then, but there was a sudden shuffling noise in the hall behind him, and I jerked my head back and out of his grasp.

I was a little bit dizzy, so it took me a moment to blink and then look around him, behind him, expecting to see someone on a bathroom mission.

Amy Lee and Georgia stood there, a scant few feet away, gaping at us.

“Oh,” I said brightly. “Hi, guys.”

“You have to be kidding me,” Amy Lee said flatly.

Henry turned, and then it was like a face-off. A face-off in a nightmare, except I was awake. My stomach cramped from the tension. I was afraid to look at Georgia, but I forced myself to do it anyway.

“Okay,” I began, “I know that it must seem—”

“You’re f*cking him?” Georgia threw at me, scandalized. “Henry?” She didn’t say “my Henry,” but I heard it anyway.

“Not in a—I mean we only—um, I—” Language failed me. It had something to do with the way she’d said his name.

“How is that your business?” Henry asked her. He was very polite, but there was a bit of steel beneath.

Georgia’s brows arched up, and then I watched her look at Henry for a long, long moment. Something passed between them, and then Georgia shrugged.

“It’s not my business at all,” she said, but she sounded almost respectful.

I actually thought, then, that maybe it would all be okay. Awkward and weird, but okay. I let myself breathe. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath in the first place.

“Fuck this,” Amy Lee said then, in a strange, deliberate voice that made us all flinch. Everyone turned to look at her, and her flushed, angry face. “Fuck all of you.”

“What?” Georgia looked as confused as I felt.

“Amy Lee—” I started.

“Shut up!” she ordered. She looked at Georgia for a long moment, and then she looked at me. I felt myself wilt. She didn’t look at Henry at all.

“What’s wrong with you?” Georgia demanded.

“I’ve had it with all of this crap, is what’s wrong with me,” Amy Lee snapped at her. “The two of you are exhausting and I can’t take another minute of it.”

“I didn’t tell you because—”

But she didn’t let me finish.

“I don’t care why you didn’t tell me,” she said. “I don’t care if Georgia spends the rest of her life prostrate on the bed, weeping over some loser. I promise you, I have better things to do with my time than keep up with these f*cking soap operas.”