I’m an asshole, but I’m not that bad. “Sounds good. Save me some, okay?” She only hesitates for a beat before nodding and disappearing back inside. At least Mia managed to find a few nice people.
Here they come. Dean’s out in front with a pair of guys behind him. It’s like they were cut out of the same douchebag cookie cutter. I can practically smell their obnoxious body spray all the way up here. And damned if one of them isn’t carrying a six-pack in both hands. Yeah, I’m sure there will be a lot of talk about sociology tonight. What a goddamn joke.
Mia’s on the intercom when I step inside, and she enthusiastically confirms the guys can come up. Her gaze sweeps over me as she turns away from the device, but neither of us says a word. I guess part of being the perfect hostess means not arguing with the hired help in front of guests.
Rather than get up in their space, I settle for sitting on a stool and the kitchen island. The open floor plan means I’m visible, but there’s still room between us. She can’t accuse me of interfering.
“Hey! I’m glad you’re here.” Mia steps back after opening the door-and I glance up in time to find her staring at the six-packs. “What’s that? A study aid?” I have to cough to stifle a laugh.
“Come on. Brad and Pete aren’t in class with us, so they have to do something.” Brad and Pete. Of course, that’s their names. Just as generic as they are.
“I’m just busting your balls. Come on in, make yourself comfortable. There’s plenty of food, and you can leave the rest of the beer in the fridge.” I glance up again and find both of them eyeing me up. I’m not naive. I have no doubt their roommate bitched about me before they came over. He doesn’t exactly try to hide the dirty looks he shoots me during class.
Silly little boy. He doesn’t have the first idea of what I’m capable of when Mia isn’t involved. Add her to the mix, and they’ll never be able to identify his body.
He’s very deliberate in the way he avoids looking at me in favor of chatting with the girls. Good. He needs to keep it that way. I can share space with him, but only if he doesn’t start any shit. I go back to scrolling through random shit on my phone that I don’t care about. It’s not like I’m paying attention to any of it anyway.
“Hey. You sure you don’t want something to eat?” Zoe flashes an apologetic smile. I didn’t even realize she came over to me.
“I’ll wait until everybody else has what they want. But thanks again. Seriously, go on over there and hang out. I’m fine.” The last thing I want is anybody feeling sorry for me. She goes back and sits on the floor, facing the sofa from the other side of the coffee table. As always, Posey is the group leader and already has her laptop open. Those boys should have known better than to think she would let the whole night pass without at least talking about schoolwork for a little while.
“Mind if we put the TV on?” Brad-or is it Pete? I didn’t learn the difference-picks up the remote before Mia can answer. The firm set of her jaw tells them she doesn’t like them making themselves at home so soon, but she lets it go. They find a sports channel and settle in front of a football game, both their plates piled with food. I wonder what they would do if I walked over and took their plates away. Fucking freeloaders.
At least I know I don’t have to worry about them tonight.
Dean, on the other hand? He’s sitting next to Mia, angled in her direction. “So I was thinking we should go in order of our eras, right? Mia would go first, Zoe second, then me, then Posey.”
“That makes sense,” Zoe agrees. I’m not sure who she likes more, Dean or me. Sadly, she’s not going to have much luck either way. We both have our eyes on the same girl, and it’s not her.
“Of course, that’s how we would do it.” Posey snickers, looking away from her screen long enough to roll her eyes at Dean. “Way to make it seem like you’re contributing, though.”
One of the other two guys bursts out laughing. “Damn, she got you!” Dean only narrows his eyes at his friend, which strikes me as interesting. He gave me the same kind of look that day in the classroom, the week after I stopped Mia from going to his place. It didn’t last long, that look, but now I know I wasn’t imagining things. Is that why he bothers me so much? He’s like the stereotypical so-called good guy who has a nasty streak underneath that he tries to hide.
Now, I don’t know that for sure, and I could be making shit up to have more reason to hate him. But I’m starting to wonder. Either way, I can’t afford to trust anybody.
Pretty soon, their chatter fades into the background while I play a game on my phone. Maybe I’m the problem here. I’m too protective of her. Jealous of anybody who looks at her in a way I don’t like. I would never in a million years admit I’m second-guessing myself since I don’t want her getting the wrong idea. But I can’t shake the feeling.
To my surprise, a plate of food slides in front of me after a while. “The calzone’s cold,” Mia informs me in a low voice, “but it’s still good.” I don’t have the chance to thank her before she continues to the fridge. Is this a peace offering? I’ll accept it, at least for now.
“She got him food, did you see? I told Dean. She’s not into him.”
I pretend I can’t hear what Brad and Pete are muttering back and forth, munching on an apple slice with my eyes on my phone. Really, I’m focused on them. I can’t even taste what’s in my mouth.
“Seriously, he needs to move on. If it hasn’t happened yet…”
The other one snorts. “Redhead would drop her panties for him here and now. I keep telling him. Stick to what’s easy.” Can Zoe hear them? I don’t think so-she’s talking about her part in their project, totally oblivious. I swing my head slowly in their direction, staring at them with a blank expression I’ve perfected over time. Eventually, one of them notices and starts choking on whatever he’s eating. The other one hits him on the back until the choking stops. Fucking assholes.
This confirms what I already knew: he’s into her, so much so that he’s told his friends about her. That doesn’t bode well.
What bodes even worse, I realize as I swing my attention in her direction, is the way she leans against him while she laughs at a joke I didn’t hear. The way she touches a hand to his shoulder and the way he smiles when she does it.
Mine. She’s mine. Nobody else’s.
But how can I keep her for myself? She was never meant for me.
But she is meant for me. Just for me. Nobody else comes close.
That’s when it happens.
When Dean goes from smiling at Mia to looking my way -and when he finds me watching, his smile widens. We don’t need to exchange a word for me to know what’s on his mind. See this? I’ve got her. She’s mine.
“Hey, Mia?” I stand fast enough to almost knock the stool over. I don’t say another word, heading for her room. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll follow me without making a big deal about it.
She murmurs something but joins me a moment later. “What now?” she whispers, arms folded. “I thought things were going well.”
I open my mouth but realize I don’t know what I want to say. I didn’t plan anything to say. I only wanted to get her away from him. How am I supposed to explain that? I can’t. At least, not in words.
This is why I explain the only way I know how to.
By taking her by the back of the head and pulling her in for a hard, deep kiss.