Easy(58)

“Hello, Erin,” a deep voice said. We turned, and there was Chaz, looking amazing in a perfectly-cut charcoal gray suit and red tie that somehow blended perfectly with Erin’s hair. He glanced at me, his eyes warm and friendly. “Hi, Jacqueline.” I sensed no reproach over the fact that their relationship had detonated over Erin standing up for me.

“Hi, Chaz. The place looks awesome.” I answered for both of us while Erin swayed to the music and waved at friends, as though her ex didn’t exist. The theme of the Bash this year was Saturday Night Fever. The band shifted from playing a Keith Urban cover to a Bee Gees song—something popular when my parents were in grade school, maybe.

Chaz glanced around perfunctorily, his eyes returning to me. “Thanks,” he said, and then he only had eyes for Erin. Watching the people already dancing, she snagged a full red cup from a passing guy with a handful of them. He started to protest, but Chaz glared, daring him to say a word to her. He buttoned his lip and kept moving.

While she sipped and pretended to be oblivious to his presence, he stared at her. It was obvious where he wanted this to go, and the fact that Erin was conspicuously gazing anywhere but at him told me she was anything but immune. They didn’t move from each other’s orbits the rest of the night, but he didn’t attempt to speak to her again, either.

I knew Chaz was a good guy, if misguided and gullible. He’d swallowed Buck’s side of what happened between us, had argued with Erin that maybe I was drunk that night, and I didn’t remember everything clearly. He was probably one of those boys to whom rapists were ugly men who jumped out of bushes, assaulting random girls. Rapists weren’t your nice-guy coworker, or your frat brother, or your best friend.

Maybe it never occurred to him that his best friend was capable of ripping a girl’s self-confidence away in the span of five minutes. That he could hurt someone innocent to wound a rival. That he could violate her in a twisted attempt to obliterate his own powerlessness. That he could make her feel constantly threatened, and not give a shit.

The only time I felt completely safe was when I was with Lucas.

Damn.

Ten minutes later, I was watching Buck dance with a senior from Erin’s sorority. He smiled and laughed, and so did she. He looked so… normal. For the first time, I wondered if I was the only girl he’d ever terrorized, and if so, why. I jumped when I heard Kennedy’s voice in my ear. “You look stunning, Jacqueline.” My drink sloshed over the cup’s rim onto my hand, luckily missing my dress. He took the cup from my hand. “Ah, I’m sorry—didn’t mean to startle you. C’mon, let me get you a towel.”

I was disconcerted enough from his arm steering me through the crowd, his hand on my bare back, that I wasn’t aware of the separation from Erin until we were in the kitchen with my arm over the sink as though I had a mortal injury rather than a beer-soaked hand. He rinsed and patted my hand dry, and I withdrew it from his grasp when he didn’t let go right away.

He ignored my withdrawal, smiling down at me. “As I was trying to say before—you look beautiful tonight. I’m glad you came.”

The music was loud, and conversation required us to stand closer than I wanted to be. “I came for Erin, Kennedy.”

“I know. But that doesn’t diminish my satisfaction that you’re here.”

He was wearing his usual Lacoste cologne, but it no longer made me want to lean against him and inhale. Once again, he stood in direct contrast to Lucas, whose scent wasn’t any one thing—it was his leather jacket and his barely-there aftershave, the meal he’d cooked for me and the subtle yet sharp smell of graphite on his fingers after he’d been drawing, the exhaust of his Harley and the minty shampoo smell of his pillow.

One brow cocked, Kennedy looked at me closely, and I realized he’d probably said or asked something.

“I’m sorry, what?” I leaned my ear toward him so I could take a second to push Lucas from my mind.

“I said, ‘Let’s dance.’”

Unable to shake my errant thoughts, I agreed and let my ex lead me to the designated dance floor, right in front of the band. An area had been cleared of furniture just under the motorized disco ball, which hung dangerously low for some of the taller guys. Rotating slowly, its mirrored surface threw flashes of light in waves around the room, illuminating faces and gyrating bodies, and glinting off any reflective surface from doorknobs to jewelry to Erin’s silver dress. Her hands were locked behind the neck of a Pi Kappa Alpha senior, an empty cup hanging from her fingertips. Her dance partner was unknowingly at the receiving end of a death glare from Chaz. Erin had noticed, though, and she pressed closer to him, staring up into his eyes with rapt attention.