I took her shoulders and turned her in the other direction. “That wouldn’t end well either. Susan can spin it, say she was distraught as a friend, et cetera, and Tara will forgive her.” I gritted my teeth.
As much as I had been jealous of Tara seven months ago, I couldn’t find any rumors where she was mean. Everyone had tended to say the same thing. She was beautiful and nice. It would make me gag, so I’d stopped asking.
“I know,” she clipped out, sounding distressed. “But…” Her hand abruptly fell back to her side. “I just can’t stand Susan. She already thinks she’s above everyone. With this promotion, she’ll think she’s on a totally different level.”
Everyone meant Erica, Wanker, and me.
Erica’s features tightened in frustration. “Susan is not better than us. Tara is not better than us. And Jake’s an asshole so he’s really not better than us.” She added, her lips pressed tight, “Even if he is kinda dreamy to look at.”
I mused, “I doubt Wanker would enjoy hearing that.”
She flushed and rolled her eyes. “Not funny, Jo. You’re”—her hand gestured up and down at me—“you. You don’t even notice that half the guys in here are checking you out, and I know that’s why Susan hates you, but…” She stopped, and her shoulders drooped.
I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” I murmured. “I can tell you one thing. Susan’s not anywhere as tough as you are. If I had to back someone in a fight—whether it were verbal, physical, or academic—I’d back you any day.”
“Really?”
“You’re tough as nails. If Susan thinks she’s on a higher level than us”—I snorted—“let her think that. You’ll be more successful than her within five years. I know it.”
One side of her mouth lifted up as the other remained down. She patted my hand on her shoulder. “Thanks, Jo.”
I shrugged. “Besides, Susan’s a bitch, and no one really likes her. We all know that.”
Erica started laughing.
I needed a drink. The restlessness was stirring inside me again. My past was a headache knocking at my head, trying to get back in. I wouldn’t let it. No way, no how. Time to head for the bar. Speaking of drinks, I spied Wanker. He was behind us, bobbing back and forth to the music, with a drink in his hand.
I pointed to it. “Hey, where did you get that?”
He leaned closer to us, still doing the shimmy shoo. “What?”
Erica yelled for me, “Where did you get your drink?”
He held it up with a bright smile plastered on his face. “You want one?”
“Yeah.”
“What?” Another yell from him.
I stood up on my tiptoes and yelled in his ear, “Yes, please!”
“Oh, okay!” he shouted before turning for the bar.
He hadn’t gone two steps before I heard from behind me, “Here. You can have mine.”
And I froze.
Kian?
But no.
It was Jake. Friendly Jake. Non-killer Jake. Not someone-who-had-gone-to-prison-for-two-years-because-of-me Jake. My body began to warm again from its frozen state. This was the Jake who asked me on a date, to get back at his ex-girlfriend. That Jake.
“You.” I scowled at him.
He raked his fingers through his locks, leaving little lines, and the side of his mouth lifted up into a self-conscious grin. “Hey.” His eyes were trailing me up and down.
“Really?” I asked, my eyebrows arching high.
He shrugged, giving me a small smile. “You look good. I’ve never stopped thinking that.”
I was two seconds away from delivering some scathing retort, when he looked beyond my shoulder. “Erica, how’s it going?”
“Actually…” Erica said, raising her voice as she scooted in. One of her shoulders touched his chest, and the other touched the top of my arm. She was acting as a barrier between us.
Jake flashed her a grin and shifted backward. She moved so she was facing him completely.
An exaggerated smile was on her face. “It’s great, you know. Got passed up for a job today. Found out about it from my friend, who, you know, you asked for a date to Susan’s party. Yeah. Great. Life’s wonderful. How are you doing? It’s been a while since I last saw you. Was it early December?”
He tensed, grimacing.
Erica clapped a hand on his shoulder and beamed up. “Remember, Jake? You and Jo were finishing up a paper that was due. She couldn’t get ahold of you to help. She didn’t want to bother you, because she worried you’d be annoyed with her so I was trying to help instead. We went to a private study room in the library, the same one you and Jo used to study in all the time and there you were, you and Tara were making out. Yeah.”
His grin faltered.
She snapped her fingers in the air, like she was just remembering. “It’s all coming back to me now.”
He scooted back another half step before someone bumped into him from behind. The drink he had extended for me was pulled back and raised above his chest. I didn’t know if he was holding it there as a shield from Erica or as a weapon to pour on her.
His shoulders dropped then. “That’s all over and done with,” he said, glancing at me.
Erica was in guard-dog mode. I loved my roommate. My trust was renewed. I’d been stupid to let my old issues sneak up on me.
“Come on, Erica. What is this?” he asked.
Her voice sharpened. “What are you doing here, Jake?”
He spoke to her, but he was watching me, “I wanted to see Jo—”
“Let me stop you right now,” she cut him off. “No explanation is needed because I know what you’re doing. And I’m going to say one thing to you. Don’t hurt my friend again.”
My grin slipped away. I’d been enjoying watching her do her thing, but she was right. I had been hurt. It took me months before I got Jake out of my system. He was the first guy that I’d let in after…
Remembering again, I found myself looking up. I didn’t want to, but I knew it was there. I knew he was there, and yes, there he was.
The news was on. There were eight different television screens all around the bar, probably more, and most of them had sports or music videos on, but a few were turned to the news.
“Jordan! What happened that night?”
“Miss Emory, are you in love with him? How do you feel about Kian Maston? Were you two having a sexual relationship before he killed your father for you?”
Someone laughed. “Are you having one now?”
They all laughed at that one.
So many reporters. So many cameras. They were always in the way—anytime I’d had to go to school, had to go to work, or had to go home even. I had known they were waiting for me, hoping I would mess up and yell at them. Head down, eyes forward, arm inside my jacket at all times—those were the only instructions the police had given to me. They hadn’t been worried about my safety, not when the nation had fallen in love with Kian and blamed me.
“Jo.”
“Jordan! Are you thankful to Kian Maston for saving your life?”
“Jo.” A hand touched my shoulder. A hand waved in front of my face.
I jerked back to the present day. Both Jake and Erica were frowning at me.
Erica pulled her hand away from me. “Where did you go just now?”
“What?” I glanced up.
It was like Kian was staring right at me, watching me again, like he had watched me through my bedroom window that day.
I grabbed Jake’s drink and gulped half of it down.
“Whoa. Hey…okay.”
It burned my throat. Good, the memories couldn’t come back. I’d burn them away with booze, or I’d try. “Can I get another one?”