On the edge of my vision, I could see Noah talking to Dane in the other room. They kept stealing furtive glances my way, Noah still wearing a strangely stern expression. I smiled when our eyes tagged, and when he didn’t smile back, the queasy feeling that something was very wrong only grew stronger.
“You’re really good at this. Am I getting hustled?” he teased.
I laughed and Zach flashed me a wide bright grin, all white teeth and dimples. He was cute and nice, and he made me glad I had decided to come to the party. I thought it ironic that a total stranger was making me feel welcome and my best friend was making me feel increasingly more uncomfortable.
When Zach’s friend returned, he was not happy to see me sitting in his spot. “Dude?”
“Fuck off, Logan. She’s ten times better than you.” When Logan didn’t move, Zach threw an arm across the back of the couch. I wasn’t clueless to the fact that he was interested. Over the course of the night Zach had incrementally gotten closer, our thighs touching, our arms brushing against each other. He was staking a claim. You could see it in the way he glared at his friend, and having received the message, Logan left.
By the time Zach got his ass handed to him in three consecutive games, I’d finished the beer and needed to visit the bathroom. I got up from the couch, and so did he, following closely. Close enough that I could feel his breath on my hair. I didn’t mind it. He was attractive and smelled good and it was nice getting some attention for a change.
Glued to one another we walked into the hallway and Noah mysteriously appeared before us. I was barely tipsy, just enough to take the edge off. Enough to have grown my very first pair of tiny beer muscles. That’s why, although Noah’s heavy scowl did not go unnoticed, it also didn’t make me cower like it would have had I been completely sober.
His glare moved from me to Zach. “The fuck you up to, Gordon?”
I looked over my shoulder in time to watch Zach’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Not much. How ’bout you?”
Noah leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, blocking our way. “Just looking for my friend here.” Without uncrossing his arms, his index finger poked out and waved in my direction. “Found her. You can leave now.”
A heavy hand landed on my shoulder––Zach’s. He laughed. It was dry, humorless and caused heat to flare up my neck. “Oh really, you two know each other?” It was pretty clear Zach didn’t believe Noah, and I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or not.
“Get your hand off her.” Noah’s face was so still only his lips moved, his eyes unblinking. The deceptively calm expression didn’t fool me for a minute. Warning bells went off. I just wasn’t sure what the warning was.
Any amusement on Zach’s face fled. “The fuck’s your problem, Calli?”
“It’s okay, Zach. We are friends,” I finally found the courage to say. I had a feeling something terrible was about to happen and I did not want any more attention than we were already garnering.
Zach’s concern-filled eyes met mine. “You sure?”
“Yeah––just give me a minute to talk to him. I’ll meet up with you after.” The doubtful look on his face made me press. “I’m not done kicking your ass.” He smiled, and with a last hard look at Noah, continued down the hallway to the bathroom. And while I watched Zach go, I braced for whatever was coming.
My gaze lifted and crashed right into Noah’s hard stare. I stuffed my hands in the front pocket of my jeans, pretending not to be affected by the way he was looking at me, with disapproval. Like I’d been caught doing something wrong.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was a low, controlled murmur. And yet I knew the question wasn’t as casual as it sounded. Having used up all my courage currency, I had none left for this, whatever this was.
“I don’t understand?”
“Why are you here?” With every question he asked, my heart beat faster, my face burning. Thankfully, the hallway was dim so I found some comfort knowing that he couldn’t see what he was doing to me.
“To, umm…” I forced the next words out, taking care not to mumble. “To party––like everyone else.” I don’t know why it embarrassed me to say it. I certainly was entitled to have a good time like everyone else, and yet it did.
His head slowly shook. “You don’t party.”
“What’s wrong? You’re acting strange. Is it Zach? He’s been really nice to me.”
“You’re wearing makeup––and tight jeans.”
That shocked me. I mean, it shocked me. He was talking about my clothing? My makeup? Was this a crime? Because if it was, someone needed to tell him his girlfriend wore those things every day. It was the first time in our friendship I can recall being really angry at him. “So?”