Jesse (Damage Control 2)
Well. He’s got a point, and yet… “Not enough. Not if you like Cassie that way.”
“I don’t.”
Back up. I didn’t quite catch that. “The fuck you don’t.”
“She’s okay, I guess. No, Shane is the one who likes her.” He pours the remnants of the whiskey into my glass—my glass, motherfucker—and swallows it down in one gulp. “I’m pissed on his behalf, not mine. Which is why I haven’t punched your pretty face in.”
Hell. “But the other night, outside Halo, you said—”
“That she’s a nice girl.” He shrugs. “I need to believe it, for Shane. Guy’s head over heels.”
“But you saw what she did.” I feel cold, and I wonder if I’m coming down with something, or if it’s all the whiskey I drank. “That’s so fucked up.”
“She just came on to you?” He cocks his head at me, eyes narrowing.
“Yes!”
“Why didn’t you push her away?”
I gape at him. “Shit, you don’t believe me.”
“Just saying, man. She’s a girl, and you’re a strong guy. She can’t have forced you.”
I get up again, dizziness be damned. I jab a finger at Seth. “You saw her at Halo the other night. And for your information, motherfucker, I pushed her, but she wouldn’t let go. Ask anyone who was around. Fuck.”
Seth grabs my forearm and drags me back down. Balance shot, I topple backward, almost missing the chair.
“The hell?”
“I believe you.” Low. Quiet. “So just sit tight and don’t go drowning in the pool or anything, all right? You’re right, I saw her at the bar the other night. She has a crush on you.”
I shrug angrily. Not my fault, is it? “I have to go find Amber.”
Because she saw it. She fucking saw it. And now she’s not here, and I feel…half. Incomplete.
“I’ll go with you, then.” He gets to his feet and gives me a hand up. “Let’s go.”
Gratefulness fills me. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.” And not just the fact he’s coming with me, but the fact he believes me.
“So,” I say as he guides me along the pool with a hand on my shoulder, without which I’d have probably stumbled into the lit water already, “you’re not into chicks, or am I missing something?”
He chokes on laughter. “Fuck’s sake, J. Who says I don’t like chicks?” He sobers as we walk past a cluster of people dancing to a ballad. The bride and groom are at the center, wrapped around each other, and anger flares again inside me.
Embers…
“That one.” Seth is pointing at someone, and when I focus enough to look, I see Cassie, her back turned to me, talking to some people.
“Fuck her.” I jerk away from him and start toward her, heat rushing up my neck, my hands fisting. “I’ll punch the bitch. I don’t give a flying fuck that she’s a girl.”
“J, no.” Seth’s hand closes around my bicep like a vise of steel, holding me back. “Not her, idiot. The brunette. Her friend. That’s the one I want.”
Seeing through the red haze of anger takes some effort. I finally notice the brunette. She’s pretty, with large, dark eyes, shiny long hair and a tight, tall body, like a dancer.
“That Cassie’s friend? Maud, or something like that?”
“Manon. Madeline Torres.”
He sounds breathless. Jesus.