“Sup, man,” Ian says, slurring slightly. “Epic game, right? Listen, I’m sorry about fucking around with Amelie. She’s a real hot—”
“Better shut up, Ian,” Eli warns.
Caleb watches Ian with a blank face.
“Oh shit,” Ian laughs. He backs away, pointing at me. “You fucking downgraded, you know? To a coke-whore’s—”
Caleb lunges forward, his fist snapping out faster than I can follow. Ian’s head whips backward, and blood pours down his face.
“What the fuck?” Ian yells. He swipes his hand under his nose, then dives toward Caleb, swinging wildly.
Caleb uses one hand to push me up against the wall, and he ducks Ian’s attempt to hit him. He rolls his shoulders back. “Come on, Fletcher,” he growls. “I’ve been wanting to hit someone all fucking semester.”
He’s all amped up energy and muscle.
“You’re going to defend her?” Ian howls. “After she—” He jumps away from Caleb’s attack.
The way Caleb moves is brutal. He’s restricted by the jacket, but the fabric stretches across his back as he goes for Ian. Eventually, their little boxing match dissolves into something less human.
Eli’s gaze goes to me, and he raises his eyebrows. “You having fun yet, Margo?”
I shake my head. Blood flies when Caleb gets another hit in on Ian’s face. He suddenly has him pinned to the floor, his elbows coming up before his fist hammers down. I wince at the sound of his knuckles meeting flesh.
And Eli seems perfectly fine with letting it happen.
“Caleb,” I say, stepping away from the wall.
We have an audience once again, but they’re smart enough to stay the hell back. He doesn’t hear me. “Caleb!”
I put my hand on his arm, and suddenly I’m the one pinned. He jumps off Ian and leans into me faster than I can comprehend. His hot breath hits my cheek, and I realize I’ve turned my head away. He smells like blood.
“You’re playing with fire,” he whispers. He bites my earlobe.
Heat floods through me.
“I don’t know if I’m scared of you or impressed that you defended me,” I mumble. His teeth are still in my skin. We have an audience. It’s dead silent besides our breathing and my pulse in my ears. If the music is still playing, I can’t hear it.
“Be both,” he growls. He picks me up, his hands on my ass lifting me higher.
I wrap my legs around his waist.
“I want to drag you into a room and fuck you senseless,” he tells me.
The way he’s holding me, his erection brushes my core. We’re in the perfect position—minus the crowd around us. My body is hot, and butterflies erupt through me.
He trails kisses along my jaw, and I tilt my head to give him better access.
“Enjoy the party, love. Because tonight, you’re fucking mine.”
19
Someone drags Ian off to nurse his wounds.
Theo, Eli, and Liam threaten to kidnap me unless Caleb goes with them to clean the blood off his face. That gets him to relent.
And suddenly, I’m alone.
But not for long.
The music kicks back on louder than it was before. It vibrates in my rib cage.
I grab a cup and pour a healthy dose of vodka into it, topping it off with soda. I’m not one to drink, but tonight calls for a little buzz, I think.
I take a sip and wince at the burn. Fire spreads through me, different than the sort that I feel because of Caleb. Numbness follows it. I take another swallow, eager to wash away the emotional fatigue from the day.
My old home. The disastrous breakup at the game. And now, the fight.
I’m ready for a nap.
“There you are,” Riley says over the music, coming in through a side door. “People are afraid to step in here.”
I lift my cup. “But here’s where the alcohol is.”
She shakes her head, sidestepping a few drops of blood on the linoleum. “I missed the action.”
“Ian’s face looked like raw meat.” I take another sip.
Riley giggles. “You don’t usually drink. Did the fight inspire this…？” She pulls my cup toward her face and sniffs. Her nose wrinkles. “Vodka soda?”
I mirror her laugh. “The fight, going in my childhood home, him breaking up with Amelie…”
Riley frowns. “Your childhood home? What?”
I shake my head.
“Okay, okay. We’ll come back to that. Caleb seems to like the attention.”
I shrug. “Don’t think he can avoid it.”
We move into the living room, close to the doors that lead out to the porch.
“I didn’t know you were going to the game,” I say.
Riley winces. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Eli asked me, he said you already had plans… I’m not sure why I believed him, frankly.”
I go to take another sip, but my cup is empty. When did that happen?
Outside, boys are circled around a bonfire. The leaves are starting to drop, even if half of the trees in the county haven’t changed colors yet. The damp leaves catch the fire, and it seems like the whole lawn is moving.
A girl catches my attention on the edge of the yard.
I step closer to the glass, so close that my breath fogs it up. By the time I swipe it away and look again, she’s gone.
“Margo?”
I jerk back toward Riley.
“What did you see?”
“Someone I thought I knew…” I shake my head and almost fall over. “Whoops.”
I catch myself on the glass.
“Oh, you’re a lightweight,” Riley says.
“Maybe? I don’t drink.”
“You don’t, do you? You sure drank this one fast.”
The room sways a bit, and suddenly Riley and I are on the floor. My legs simply folded underneath me, and I must’ve brought her down with me.
“You want some water?”
I roll my eyes, letting my head fall back on the glass. “No.”
“It’ll make you feel better.”
“I don’t think anything can make me feel better.”
“We call this self-destructing,” Caleb says above me. He bends down and scoops me up.
I latch on to his neck and peer into his eyes. They’re so blue, I could fall into them.
“I’m not,” I promise. “Just…”
He exhales. “Just what?”
“Washing away today.”
His face shutters. “I’m taking you home.”
Riley bolts to her feet. “She can’t—”
“I know.” He carries me out of the house, down the driveway.
Hoots and hollers follow us.
“People are mean,” I mutter. I crane my head down. His is wrapped around my back, fingers curled on my rib cage. “Your knuckles are bruised.”
He frowns. “I’ve been hurt worse.”
“This is self-inflicted,” I argue. “Maybe you’re the self-destructing one.”
He chuckles darkly, setting my feet on the ground as he fishes out his keys. “Are you going to puke in my car?”
“No.” I cross my arms, indignant, but I have to uncross them a minute later so I don’t topple over. My balance is gone.
Shot.
“If you do…”