Is he crazy?
Of course I can. But that would only lead to more discussions, and that’s what I’m trying to avoid.
Instead, I shake my head. “We aren’t getting back together,” I repeat. “Not after what happened.”
With a shift of his weight, he cocks his head. “I’ve already apologized a thousand times. Why can’t you just forgive me so we can move past this?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I’m sorry, but I stop myself before the words can tumble free. I’m not the one whose behavior was reprehensible. And he’s right, he’s apologized over and over again, but it doesn’t change the fact that he cheated on me. Multiple times.
Instead of getting drawn into an argument, I point toward the kitchen at the back of the house. “I need a drink.” Probably more than one. “Have a good night.”
Before he can respond, I push through the press of bodies, needing to get as far from him as I can.
“Wait,” he calls after me. “I’ll come with you.”
“No thanks,” I yell over my shoulder, hoping he’ll take the hint and finally move on.
What?
A girl can hope.
I glance around for Sasha and realize that she’s stepped in front of Andrew to block him from following me. And that, my friends, is exactly why she’ll always be my ride or die. If she weren’t already my bestie, her sacrifice would seal the deal. Who knows…maybe she’ll be able to talk some sense into him.
Although that’s doubtful.
I’ll kill a little time by grabbing a drink and then circle back. With any luck, Andrew will have disappeared, and I’ll be able to avoid him for the rest of the night. It takes a few minutes to make my way to the kitchen before finding the keg and stepping in line.
When the guy standing in front of me swings around, I blink, realizing it’s my cousin, Ryder.
“Hey,” I greet, pulling him in for a quick hug. “I’m surprised to find you here.” More like shocked.
The football and hockey players don’t necessarily get along. Even though we’re supposed to be one big, happy Western family, the two teams are always competing to be top dog on campus.
“Trust me, I’m not happy about it either,” he grumbles, glancing around the crowded party. “Hopefully, we won’t stay long. I got dragged here because someone’s girlfriend’s brother is on the team.”
Looks like we’re both stuck in the same miserable boat.
Instead of telling him that, I slip my arm through his. Even though Ryder is my cousin, he’s more like a brother to me. “Well, it’s always good to see you. How are Aunt Sadie and Uncle Cal?”
His expression softens. “They’re good. You should stop by for a visit. They miss seeing your face. Actually, she made a batch of cookies for you a couple of weeks ago.”
My brows pinch together. “Really? I never received them.”
His lips curve into a grin as he pats his flat belly. “I know. But I told her you thought they were delicious.”
I snort and swat at his arm. “You’re a big jerk.”
This only makes him grin more. “I’ll let you know the next time we’re getting together for dinner.”
“That sounds good.” While I avoid getting together with my own mother, it’s the opposite with Ryder’s parents.
We chat for a few more minutes before he grabs a beer and drains the glass in one thirsty gulp. “There’s nowhere near enough alcohol to dull the pain of this party.” Before I can respond, his eyes darken. “You’re not here by yourself, are you?”
I shake my head. Of course not.
Does he think I’m a complete idiot?
“Nope, Sasha’s around here somewhere.” I don’t mention that she’s holding off my ex. Andrew has never been a fan favorite with Ryder.
“Just make sure you stick with her tonight, all right?”
“I will.” I give him a peck on the cheek before shooing him away. The last thing I need is a keeper.
And then he’s gone, plowing through the sea of students. Although, honestly, most scatter out of his way. Ryder is well over six feet and broad in the shoulders. Whether he’s walking around campus or skating on the ice, no one wants to get run over by him.
Once my beer is in hand, I swing around to retrace my steps. Hopefully, I’ll be able to find Sasha without running into my ex again.
I don’t get more than a step before slamming into a hard body. The drink gets splashed across the front of my loosely knit cotton sweater, making the thin material cling to my breasts as I lose my balance and stumble a couple of steps. Strong fingers wrap around my upper arms to stop me from tumbling backward.
A gasp slips free as beer drips down the material and puddles at my feet. I glance up, gaze slamming into familiar dark eyes.