Love Songs & Other Lies(43)
“No shit,” I mutter.
“No one asked you to do this.” Her voice is acerbic, hateful.
“You never have to ask me to do this.” I look down at her body in my arms. “I’m not just standing around while you get dragged half unconscious into the alley by some drunk asshole.”
“He was nice,” she says matter-of-factly.
I roll my eyes. “He was an asshole.”
“How’s Sienna?”
I don’t answer, I just push the bar on the metal door and step out into the hot Georgia night. We’re in the small roadway that runs along The Tabernacle. The huge Ferris wheel spins over us, and we’re so close to the bottom of it, I feel like we’re miniatures. Vee is staring up at the lights, and I think maybe this is over.
Vee’s eyes go back to my face. “How about that girl you kissed backstage, then? How’s she?” I hadn’t even known she was backstage. Of course that’s my luck. Thank you, Universe.
“That was a stupid game, and you know it,” I say. “I would have made out with you, if you weren’t busy acting like I was some kind of monster. So that wasn’t an option, was it?”
She says nothing, and I can feel the irritation growing inside me, burning alongside the drinks. Why does she get to ignore me for days at a time, spend the night making me jealous, and then treat me like an asshole when I save her from some guy who actually is an asshole?
“No snarky comment about how horrible I am?” I ask. “That’s an interesting change.”
She just stares up at me silently, and I keep my eyes focused on the road ahead of me.
When the bus is in view, Vee starts twisting, trying to stand up on her own. I let her legs go, letting them drop to the ground, my other arm still wrapped around her waist, holding her up. Her chest is pressed up against me, her face so close our noses are almost touching, and there’s a feeling between us I don’t quite recognize. The sweetness we had before is gone. There are no “I love you”s, no forehead kisses or gentle touches. She takes a deep breath, and I can feel it against me; the air trapped between us.
I turn us toward the building and walk her backward, my eyes locked on hers, until the brick wall of The Tabernacle stops us. Until all I can feel is her body. I feel the weight of her against me as her back hits the wall. My hand goes to her hip, roughly pulling her closer. I’m going to remind her how good we were. I run my hand down her leg, feel her slick dress turn to bare skin, and she gasps. I brace myself for her to tell me I’ve gone too far. We’re not us anymore. “Vee—” My voice is hoarse and tense, as I dare her to look me in the eyes when she tells me she doesn’t feel the same way I do. But her wide eyes aren’t on me. They’re on the blinking red light at the end of the alley, pointed right at us.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THEN
CAM
By the time we walk back to the party, Vee looks like she’s ready to curl up on the sidewalk and go to sleep. We collect Anders and Cort, who made up sometime while we were on the beach, and if I didn’t think Vee would kill me, I’d leave them here. The last thing I need is the two of them going all Discovery Channel on my living room couch. Vee climbs onto my back, and I walk the three blocks to my apartment with her wrapped around me like a half-asleep baby monkey.
By the time I get her to my room, she’s dead weight. I sit down, letting her drop onto the bed behind me. She’s still wearing her wet clothes, and water is bleeding all over my blue comforter.
“Vee?” She’s lying motionless on the bed, her legs still dangling over the edge. I shake her lightly but she doesn’t move. Shit.
I walk out to the living room, hoping Anders and Cort are still decent. “Hey, Cort, can you come help me?” The two of them are sitting on the edge of the couch.
“You propositioning my girl, Fuller?” He’s joking, but his voice doesn’t have the same arrogant confidence it usually does.
“Definitely not.” I wave Cort over to my room. “I just need to borrow her for a second, to help Vee.” I turn to Cort. “Can you just get her undressed?” I hand her one of my shirts and a pair of boxers. “She’s soaking wet.”
Her eyes narrow and she tips her head to one side. “You’re not wet.”
“Long story. Will you please just—” I thrust the clothes at her.
Cort winks at me as she pushes past me. “I’m sure she’d rather you did it.”
“I’m not risking getting my ass kicked in the morning.”
“Probably a smart choice.” Just short of the bed, she turns back to me. “But I’ll be the one doing the ass kicking, if you screw this up.” Cort is small and dainty—barely five feet—but she seems like the kind of girl who would exact revenge. There’s this gleam in her eye that says she’ll carve her name into the side of your car if you give her a reason. Or an excuse. I grab a glass of water from the kitchen and fish the Tylenol out of a cabinet.
Cort drops back down onto my couch, which Anders has pulled out into a bed. “All set,” she says.
Vee is tucked under the covers and I crawl in, staying as far from her as I can. There’s a good chance I’ll wake her if I have a nightmare. I didn’t think this through. As much as I want her in my bed, want her closer to me more than I should, it reminds me of the last time I slept in the same bed with someone. And I’m all the more certain I’ll be waking her up when those memories inevitably invade my sleep.