Josie studied Brock’s face; I could see she sensed something weird was happening. He tended to be overprotective of her, but with good reason. According to Brock, there was always at least one guy at a party with nefarious intentions and looking to take advantage of a vulnerable girl. “Did something happen?” she asked, no longer dancing or smiling.
“I can’t talk about it here.” An understanding passed between them, and judging by the downturn of her lips, Josie wasn’t happy about having to wait but would.
Irritation flashed over Kenna’s eyes. “Wow. That didn’t take long. We’ve been on campus for like a week and you’re already starting in on your secrets.”
Brock shifted his body to face her, shooting her a warning glare. “I promised Grayson that we’d look out for you. Now stop being a pain in my ass and go the fuck back to the dorms.”
Kenna huffed, and her butt dropped against the pool table, a speck of defeat darkening her chocolate eyes.
“I will haul your ass out of here,” Brock threatened.
Unlike my threats, Micah’s and Brock’s were very real. “Don’t bother. I’m going,” Kenna conceded, but not happily.
“That goes for the both of you as well,” he ordered Ainsley.
She blinked. I felt a little bad for her. She was also figuring out where she belonged, not just at KU but within our group. We had all hung out over the summer, but I could tell she still didn’t think of herself as one of us.
Then again, I wasn’t sure Josie did either. She balanced this thin line between two worlds, unable to leave her past fully behind.
It looked like we both had loose ends that needed to be tied.
Kenna grabbed a beer off the edge of the pool table and stormed out of the pool room, but not before flipping up her middle finger as she left.
My lips twitched. Josie must have been rubbing off on her sister, and I liked it. It was past time that Kenna stopped being the girl she thought everyone wanted her to be and started just being herself. Whoever that was.
“I’ll go after her,” Ainsley offered, most likely to avoid being a third wheel, something that bothered Josie. And me. I wanted Ainsley to be comfortable with us. All of us.
Brock nodded, and she raced after Kenna, despite them not getting along. Ainsley was a decent person. I respected her for putting aside her differences to watch over Kenna.
Josie tugged on the front of Brock’s shirt, drawing his gaze to her. “We should make sure they get back to the dorm.”
Brock slid a hand to the small of her back. “I’ll see you at home later,” he said to Micah.
“Yeah, we’re right behind you. Mads and I need to have a chat,” Micah replied.
Josie sent me an empathetic look.
Winking, I lifted the corners of my mouth, telling her not to worry about me, but the grin didn’t reach my eyes, not when my stomach had knotted.
Micah laced his fingers through mine, leading me toward the door. My foot had just touched the threshold when a voice stopped Micah dead in his tracks. “Leaving so soon?”
I groaned, wanting to keep moving, but Micah’s hand in mine tightened, and he slowly turned around.
Sterling Weston stood behind us clad in black jeans that hugged his toned legs, a fitted shirt the same color, and combat boots. Always black. Always smug. Always a hint of danger. And yet, despite the outward appearance, he smelled of money, a wealth he tried to hide behind a bad boy exterior. His dark hair fell to one side, revealing the shaved sides. He had no tattoos but looked as if he should under those clothes. At least there hadn’t been any over two years ago. He could have gotten one since then, but I somehow doubted that. His vice wasn’t tattoos. It was cigarettes.
Inching closer to Micah, I stared into Sterling’s face. His eyes twinkled mischievously, and he wore a smug grin. I could tell he enjoyed torturing me. Realizing that, I made the decision right there to tell Micah tonight what happened between Sterling and me. Another one of those life mistakes I longed to erase. I refused to let another guy hold any kind of power over me. Besides, Sterling couldn’t possibly know that I hadn’t told Micah. He was guessing, and based on my reaction earlier, he had guessed right.
Prick.
I was done. What was the point in hiding from my past or pretending it didn’t exist? At some point, the truth always came out, and it was better if it came from me.
I didn’t know what I was so scared of. It wasn’t like Micah hadn’t done the same thing or hadn’t been with other people. For two years, we had a history of throwing people in each other’s faces. Healthy reactions? No. But when did teenagers ever make healthy choices? My decisions had been spurred by hurt, anger, and often jealousy I refused to admit burned within me.
Seeing him with other girls had sucked. Communication had definitely been something both of us lacked. We were working on that, among other things, because the bottom line was I loved Micah.
God, what the hell was I thinking coming here tonight?
In my defense, I figured it was likely that I would run into Sterling. This was his house. Hence the three beers in less than an hour. Not the brightest idea, but the first beer had been to take the edge off so I could work up the courage to talk to him. I didn’t want or need any unexpected bumps in the road or skeletons to come out of the closet. The second and third had been to calm my nerves since the first didn’t do shit. And now that warm, loose feeling I had worked to obtain was quickly draining.