Still Jaded (Jaded #2)(23)

I checked back into the conversation. I had slipped away for a heartbeat. Then it all flooded back. "Bryce is busy. Soccer."

"I know, but what's with this girl? Who is she? Did you meet her?"

I uncorked the second bottle.

Grace continued, "It's all over the media. Who's this Guadalupe person? You must know her."

I took a sip and sighed. "She's a model, Grace."

"Oh."

"And she wants to f**k him."

"Oh?!" Grace was aghast now.

"What do you think I should do, Grace? You must know about this situation. What should I do?"

Grace squirmed in her chair and looked at my wine bottles with alarm. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Does it matter?" Because I didn't think it did.

"It doesn't help." She folded her arms over her chest. "I'm concerned."

"Are you? I thought we were talking about how you're a celebrity. You weren't concerned then."

Now fully aware and all too alarmed, Grace stood up and edged towards the door. I stayed in my chair with my bottle in hand. I didn't give a damn what anyone else thought. I didn't care that my one female friend was scared of me. She should've been. She was smart.

"I'm, uh, going to get Corrigan." Then she made a mad dash for the exit.

She should run.

I sat alone for the rest of the night and must've dozed at some point because when I woke later, I was on my bed with a blanket laid over me. The sound of the party had diminished, but I still heard laughter and conversation. I felt groggy but pushed myself up.

My stomach dipped as the wine shot back up. I stumbled from the bed and crossed to the bathroom. No vomit came up, but, as I wiped my eyes and looked in the mirror, I wasn't sure whom I stared at. She looked hollow and haunted. Used.

"Sheldon?"

I ignored the pain that pierced me as I looked at Bryce in the doorway. He was dressed in his soccer workout gear. It gave his body a lean trimmed look. With his black Mohawk cut short and his chiseled cheekbones, Bryce looked edgy, almost dangerous, but his eyes were guarded as he observed me.

"I told you not to come." My voice was hoarse, but I pushed past him and headed for the door. The party was still going on. I should be there, anywhere except in that bedroom.

Bryce caught my arm and yanked me back. "We need to talk, Sheldon."

"No. You need to leave." I twisted my arm from his grasp and swept through the door, heading down the hallway to the stairs. I didn't care who I shoved, hit, or stepped on. A large group had congregated in the kitchen where the kegs were.

"Hey, Sheldon!" Raz held the keg's spout in his hand. He held out a plastic cup. "Want a beer?"

"Where's the hard stuff?"

He gestured behind me. "Corrigan took it out to the courtyard. You've got an awesome bar!"

Leah stood next to Corrigan and his fraternity brothers with a few of her friends. Cadence was with two of her sisters, and Grace was not far from them.

"Sheldon." Corrigan straightened. I flinched when I heard his tone, like all the emotion and fun had been stripped away. Grace froze when she heard my name.

A part of me withered up because I had this effect on my friends.

"Give me a drink, Cor."

With a rum bottle in one hand and a glass in the other, he looked the role of an everyday fraternity party boy. He even had on a trendy polo shirt and designer jeans. His dark blonde hair had been trimmed so the curls were tight. But he wasn't a carefree frat brother; he looked very sober as he weighed his decision.

He never stopped me in high school. Why would he start now? Then his eyes trailed past my shoulders and widened. He nodded. "Bottoms up, Sheldon." And with that, he tossed the rum to me.

I caught it with one swoop and tipped my head back to down what I could.

It was yanked out of my hands a second later. Before I even looked, I knew. Bryce seethed at me as he threw the bottle into the foliage.

All eyes were trained on us in that instant. It was surreal how clear certain people were to me right then. Corrigan was cautious but waiting. Grace frowned, nervous and fearful. Cadence was enraptured. Leah was scornful. Then I caught sight of someone else in the corner of my eye and turned. Dorothy looked out of place in her Sparky's uniform as she held a platter of sandwiches, her red hair done up in two ponytails. She watched with no emotion and maybe that's why something snapped inside of me.

"If this scene hadn't been played before, I'd laugh."

"Sheldon, don't." Bryce grabbed my arm and tried to haul me behind him.

But I dug my heels in. I wasn't going anywhere. "So did Donadeli's keep the business in the family? Are you related to him? Are you going to turn psycho and stalk me too? Do I need to kill you too?"

"Sheldon," Corrigan spoke up now. "Stop."

I swung around. "What do you care, Corrigan? All this mumbo jumbo about 'being okay' with each other. We are the farthest from okay that we've ever been." I doubled over in hysterics. If I was going to do a scene, I was going to win an Oscar.

"Sheldon, private. Please." Bryce tugged at my arm.

I whirled on him next. "And you—where do I start with you?"

"I agree with Bryce. Let's go somewhere private." Corrigan was at my elbow now. Both reached for me, but I hit them back.