I wondered what gave him the idea about Vince and me. We had barely spoken to each other in his presence. Then I remembered the way the two of them went into the office and closed the door. I was deep into my third vodka by that point, but I knew they were in there for a long time. The fourth vodka was being polished off by the time they came back out. What had Vince been saying about me?
I stood at the top of the stairs again, looking down the hall. Which room was his? Who was he with?
I groaned at myself. It didn't matter who he was with, because he didn't matter that way. He had helped me, was still helping me. He had even protected me the night before when I was passed out. I couldn't overlook that. I appreciated him. But that was where it ended, for the both of us. I was more of a nuisance to him than anything else now. I was already throwing things into disarray, causing the lockdown.
I went into the bedroom and found my clothes, folded neatly on a chair. I smiled, wondering who had done that for me. Oh, jeez! Who undressed me? I prayed it was only Brett or one of the other girls. I felt very exposed all of a sudden.
Sliding into my jeans and putting on a bra made me feel a little freer of knowing looks. I heard noise from the hall and knew it meant people were waking up. Good-the clubhouse was like a morgue when it was quiet like that. I felt creepy walking around when everyone else was sleeping.
I took my time getting back downstairs and found Tyler and Sam in the kitchen. They were cooking up bacon and eggs, pancakes and coffee. "Let me help," I said.
"No! You go hang out somewhere else. You're our guest," Sam said.
"Besides," Tyler added, "you still have that camera to figure out. I think Brett's idea about the knife was a pretty good one."
"I'm starting to agree with you," I admitted.
"Good thing you didn't try last night," Sam smirked. "You were in no condition, young lady!" They both laughed, and I blushed a deep red.
"All right, all right. I got a little drunk." They kept snickering, so I left them to it and walked back into the lounge. I hoped I hadn't said or done anything to hurt anyone's feelings, but I got the impression they would have told me if I had. They weren't the sort of girls to bite their tongues.
I wondered where the camera had ended up. I remembered having it at the bar, but it wasn't there. I looked behind the bar, on the shelves. Nothing. I guessed somebody had to put it somewhere for safe keeping.
Just then, I saw Vince coming downstairs. My heart gave a little flutter, and I cursed myself. There was absolutely no future for the two of us. He saw me as a pain in the ass. What good would it do to catch feelings for him now?
Then, I saw Brett coming down behind him. My heart sank. Damn it, I thought. I should have known. The taste of bile came up into my mouth, but it wasn't nausea that caused it. It was jealousy. I was crazy jealous of that sweet girl, all because she had slept with Vince, not me.
"Good morning!" she chirped. "Looks like you survived the night."
"I did." I managed to smile. "I guess I owe my change of clothes to you?"
She grinned. "Well, it's not my shirt, but I helped you get dressed."
"Thank you," I said with a genuine smile this time. "I was hoping it was you and not one of the guys."
She laughed. "Yeah, like that would work out well." She smiled at Vince, then went into the kitchen. This left just the two of us, face to face, with the bar between our bodies.
I cut to the chase. "Do you know what happened to the camera? I don't remember where I left it."
He smirked. "Probably because you were blackout drunk." He didn't sound snide, though. He sounded gentle. Friendly.
I wasn't feeling so friendly. "Where is it, then?" I had to get those pictures off and get the hell out of this place. I was starting to question my sanity.
He frowned, jerking a thumb toward the office. "I put it in the desk drawer for safe keeping. Calm down."
"I'm perfectly calm. I just wanted to get back to work on what I came here to do." Now there were more people walking into the room from upstairs, and I had to keep my voice down to avoid eavesdroppers. My eyes bored holes into Vince's skull.
"By all means," he said. "Don't let me stop you."
I turned in a huff, marching to the office. I heard his footsteps behind me, and he shut the door.
"What's your problem today?" he asked, following me to the desk.
"Oh, let's see. For starters, I was almost killed last night. I've been stuck here for over twelve hours with no end in sight. I have no idea how to get this damned camera open. I'm worried about my family. I'm worried about myself. And everyone here is in danger because of what I saw." I smiled tightly at him, pulling the camera from the desk drawer as I did. "Think I missed anything?"
He softened, his shoulders falling from where they were-up around his ears. He looked calmer now. "Listen. You don't have to be worried. The lockdown was just a precaution, nothing more. We've done it before."
"Not recently," I pointed out, feeling stubborn. I wanted to be in a bad mood, by God.
"How would you know?"
"Onyx told me."
"Onyx talks too much." His face hardened. "He needs to mind his own damned business sometimes."
"All he said was that this doesn't happen often. That's all. I'm the one who asked."
"I don't doubt it." He smirked.
"Listen, I don't feel like fighting over this, okay?" Mostly because none of it was what I was really fighting about. It was the bitter jealousy I had felt when I saw Brett coming downstairs with Vince. It killed me, and I hated admitting it to myself.
"I don't want to fight about anything at all." He smiled, and I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe he was the good guy the girls told me he was. I wanted to believe he wouldn't use a sweetheart like Brett, who was clearly in love with him.
I wanted to believe he didn't share her feelings.
He turned to leave the office. "I'll leave you to your work. And I'll tell you when breakfast is ready." His hand was on the doorknob when I just had to speak, or else lose the moment forever.
"Be careful, okay?"
He turned to me, a confused smile on his face. "With what?"
"Not with what. With whom."
Confusion touched his hazel eyes, and they narrowed. "Fine, then. With whom?"
I sighed. "Her."
He smirked. "You were sleeping in my bed," he said, shrugging. "What was I supposed to do? Climb in with you?"
I blushed. "No."
"I mean, I could have dumped you in another bed. Axel's, maybe, or Joe. If you wanted it that way."
"Stop it," I said, shaking my head. "Don't make jokes about using that poor girl."
His face hardened. "That's none of your business."
I shrugged. "She's a nice girl is all. Be careful with her."
He turned from the door, walking to the desk in a way that reminded me of an animal stalking its prey. "You don't need to tell me the kind of girl she is. I know how nice she is. And face it. If you met her on the street, if none of this happened and you just crossed paths out of nowhere, you wouldn't give her a second glance. Just like me. We're trash to you. So don't pretend like you give a shit about any of us."
I froze in place, feeling the color drain from my face. I must have looked like I saw a ghost. I knew from the satisfied smirk on Vince's face that my action pleased him. He left the room, closing the door.
Was that true? I sat in the chair, going over his words. Yes, he was right about one thing: I wouldn't have given any of them the time of day. They weren't like the people I knew. I couldn't help it. Just because they were nice people didn't mean we had to be friends.
And we wouldn't be. Wasn't I planning on leaving and never looking back the minute I was given the all-clear? I had no intention of forming relationships with any of them, so what right did I have to tell Vince how to live his life?
Because I wanted him. The thought, sharp and plain, hit me like a bolt from the blue. I wanted him badly. It was no use telling myself I didn't, that it was just a stupid crush or that I was tricking myself into thinking I liked him because he saved me. I just wanted him. In my arms, in my bed. The sooner, the better.
Oh, this was no good. I folded my arms on the desk and rested my still-aching head on them. Still, somehow just admitting that I wanted him felt like a load was lifted from my shoulders. It was easier to come clean with myself.
He was sexy. A magnet, like the girls described him the night before. They sure seemed to have a good idea about him. I guessed they probably all went through phases at one time or another when they liked him. I couldn't blame them. I was dangerously close to falling myself.