“Feeling guilty, are you?”
I glance over and find Greyson at the top of the hall.
“How much did you hear?”
He shrugs.
I narrow my eyes. “Was it a setup?”
He smiles.
Shit. That could’ve been another trap I walked right into. Imagine that.
I shiver, and he strides toward me. I don’t move from where I’m leaned against the wall, because I’m curious. Sue me, but I want to see what he’s going to do. A small part of me hopes he wraps his hand around my throat and pushes me to my knees.
But he doesn’t. He stops just shy of touching me at all.
And then his question hits me again, and I squint at him. “Why would I feel guilty?”
He lifts one shoulder. “I’m just imagining you didn’t sell me out this time because you hate that you sold me out last time.” He does lean in now, his breath fanning across my face.
I bet he tastes like whiskey. Didn’t realize it was the kind of night that required getting drunk fast, but here we are.
“You’re delusional.”
“Am I?” He laughs. “Doesn’t matter how hard I fuck you, baby. I still hate your guts.”
My chest tightens, and my eyes burn. Again.
Shit.
Why the hell am I having such an emotional response? I don’t want to care about what he says. It would appear to be his own special brand of brutality. He makes me obsessed with him and thenthis. He tears the rug out from under me.
I push him away and slip past him. It doesn’t take me long to find Willow, Jess, and Amanda. They’re dancing with some other girls, drinks in hand. Willow hugs me tightly when I appear at her shoulder, and she doesn’t object when I reach for her drink and take a few gulps of the vodka tonic.
“I’ll buy your next one,” I say, handing it back.
I don’t want to get blackout drunk—just enough to dull the razor edge I’m straddling.
One of the other girls grabs my arm and leans in. “You look like you could use a pick-me-up, not a downer. I’ve got something for that, if you’re interested…”
I raise my eyebrows. “Yeah?”
She extends her hand, fingers uncurling to reveal an innocuous white pill.
“Molly,” she says.
“Violet.”
She giggles. “No, the drug. Well, it’s a cocktail pill. It’ll pick you up like ecstasy and set you down gently when it’s done…” She winks. “I’m Sav.”
I take it from her and put it on my tongue, swallowing it dry. Willow watches me with wide eyes, then laughs. She hooks her arm around my neck and plants a kiss on my cheek.
Ah, maybe she’s already taken one, too.
“How long for it to kick in?” I ask the girl, but she’s already spinning away.
I shake it off and drag Willow back to where Jess and Amanda are dancing. The pianists are playing a Lady Gaga song, but there’s a beat behind it. A thundering baseline that keeps the song moving—and keeps us dancing.