Crushed (Torn #7)(9)

“Do you plan to tell her?”

“Never,” he vehemently said, frowning. “Not if I can help it.”

He was in love with her, yet he wanted to suffer by not telling Lindsey. I understood that he respected Carter, but come on, he needed to grow some balls and get over it. No one was worthy of him except for my dear friend, and even though it was cutting me to shreds thinking about them together, I would be content knowing two people I cared so much for were indeed happy as a couple. A part of me insisted it would be better off to leave the subject alone because, let’s face it; it wasn’t my business what he did or didn’t do with his love life. At the same time, the other good side was persistent. If I could convince him to drop his inhibitions and dive into it, maybe I wouldn’t feel so guilty any longer.

“What are you so scared about?”

“Everything.”

I shouldn’t, yet I couldn’t stand him looking glum. Though I was young, I knew enough that I could be selfless in wanting him to find happiness.

“Maybe you should take the risk. Maybe it’ll be worth it in the end.”

An impatient sound came out of him before he gave me a pointed look, as if he was ready to challenge me.

“Maybe it won’t, but I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

Of course he didn’t. He would rather dwell on my problems than face his. Typical male redirection.

I was about to say something sarcastic when my phone rang in the small clutch purse that was hanging off my wrist. The size was enough to carry money, phone, car keys, and mints. It was imperative during summer months.

“One sec,” I exclaimed as I dug in to fetch my phone before placing it against my ear to answer it.

All the while I was taking the call, I could feel the heat of his stare. If I had the guts, I would look him straight in the eye, raise my brow, and give him a ‘take it or leave it’ look. I knew my body was in the best shape, and I admit his admiring eyes didn’t go unnoticed. Though I was delighted by his attention, I couldn’t really revel in it without having to deal with the guilt that never ceased to always sprout whenever I strayed away from my mission of keeping it platonic between us.

“Who was that?” his brooding self immediately asked the moment I hung up the call and inserted the little device back into my tiny, golden, glittery clutch.

“Russo.”

His handsome face frowned deeper, like he couldn’t fathom why one of the guys on the soccer team with him was calling me out of the blue.

“And what does Russo want with you?”

He wasn’t the only male friend I had. Did he even consider that option? I mean, I knew I wasn’t the hottest piece of ass around, but crap, I had a few men fawning over me. I wasn’t about to point that out just yet, though. Given his dark expression, it wouldn’t be a wise move on my part.

“He’s wondering if I wanted to head out to Cece’s party. She’s having some shindig with a hired club DJ or something like that.”

My response didn’t seem to matter to him, because he was off to the next question, giving me a foreboding look.

“And what did you tell him?”

“I said sure.” It was a party all the same. Maybe I might even have a great time with no Brody to worry about since he would be stuck here with his own bash.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying here.”

He was ordering me what to do now? Since when did that happen?

Peering towards him, I tried to stand my ground. “I already told him I was going, Brody. It’d be rude not to show up.”

“You’re drunk, and I don’t want you near perverts like him!”

“A couple bottles of beer doesn’t get anyone drunk. I’m not a lightweight, so I’m all good to drive. Besides, what’s the difference between perverts and flirts, anyway? It’ll go down the same route if I let it happen. So, if you have a problem with that, that’s too bad, ‘cause I don’t see it as one.”

The fiery pizzazz and abrasive attitude wasn’t welcomed given the look he was giving me. In fact, that was the first time I saw him enraged. He was always happy-go-lucky with everything. This was … different, refreshing even.

Pressing his lips together, he studied me with utmost intensity, not daring to even blink his eyes as he considered me fully. “You don’t see it as a potential danger to hang out with perverts? Heck, you could be drugged, raped, or even killed, yet you don’t give a rat’s ass about that. I wonder how your parents will feel about that if I decide to give them a call.”

He didn’t want to f*uk me with me, not today, most especially not today.

“You wouldn’t dare!” I growled in his face, heated at the threat of what he was willing to do just to get his way. “That’s breaking code!” We all made a pact that, when we partied, we figured it out ourselves before we got our parents involved. As long as it wasn’t jail, bail, or the emergency room, we never—ever—bothered with parents. He knew this as much as I did.

His eyes lit up, mocking me as he gave me a cruel yet über sexy smile. “Oh, I f*uking dare, Amber Harrison.” Facing me smugly, he stepped in close, too close for comfort, before he finally uttered the words. “So I dare you to dare me.”

He was all male, and the intoxication of his minty breath with a hint of beer and the sweet aroma of his sun-kissed skin was playing havoc with my body.