“I’ll leave when he leaves.” He nodded his head toward Ryder. His chin remained tilted, begging for a reason to throw a punch.
I glanced at Ryder. His green eyes had gone dark.
Mason asked, “Well, Brinley, who is it? Who are you choosing?”
“What? When did this become about choosing anyone? You’re my best friend, you know that, but right now you’re acting like a real asshole. You’re drunk and probably won’t remember half of this in the morning, but I will, so let’s do us both a favor. Shut up and go to your room.”
“And him. He stays?” he scoffed.
“No, he goes too. But I’m not sending the two of you down in that elevator together.”
“I’ll take the stairs,” Mason barked, and headed toward the exit door.
“Can you manage stairs?” I asked.
“I’ll take the stairs,” Ryder grumbled.
“I said I’d take the fucking stairs,” Mason shouted.
I rushed after him as he slammed his hand against the door, swinging it open. If he did manage his way downstairs, he’d make a commotion and probably have the RA in our business.
“Mason, wait.”
He glanced back then continued walking.
“Ryder, I’m sorry.”
He’d crammed his hands in his pockets. “Me too.” He turned, pressed the elevator button and stepped in when the doors opened.
Anger, directed at Mason, surged through me. I rushed down the stairs and had no problem catching up to him.
“Go after him. You know you want to,” Mason said. “I don’t need you to babysit me.”
“Shut up and quit being an ass.”
We reached the landing to his floor and he spun toward me, pressed me to the wall and put his hands beside my head. “Why him?”
My breath caught at the suddenness. I rolled my eyes and tried to slip under his arm. “Stop acting weird.”
He slid it lower, locking me into place. His eyes were dark and glassy, his lips red like they always got when he drank too much. “I told myself it wouldn’t matter. I wouldn’t get jealous. But why him? I can’t stand the thought of him touching you.”
Countless times I’d slept in the same bed as Mason, and never once had he pushed boundaries. But in this moment, something had changed in the way he looked at me. It was almost possessive and I didn’t like it. This wasn’t my Mason. I stared directly into his eyes, needing him to hear my words. “Mason, you’re dru—”
He pressed his mouth against mine and cradled the back of my head with his hand. I pulled away but he held me in place.
His tongue slipped into my mouth and I squirmed against the wall, trying to break free. What was he thinking? Everything about this was wrong. So incredibly wrong. He was supposed to be my best friend. Didn’t he understand this one kiss could ruin everything?
I pressed both hands on his chest and pushed him away.
“Stop,” I yelled. “I get it. You don’t want me with Ryder, but I’ll be damned if you’re going to kiss me after your mouth has been all over my slutty roommate!” I shoved him back and broke free of his arms. “I love you to death, but right now you are acting like a huge fucking asshole. Go to your damn room, get some sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow, but for the sake of our friendship don’t say another word. Don’t touch me. Just walk away. Like I’m doing now.” I spun and raced back upstairs. If he got busted by the RA it wasn’t my problem. Not tonight.
Once in my room I peeled off the borrowed dress. Slipped on a T-shirt and flopped onto the bed. Tears from anger stung my eyes.
Stupid Mason. Freaking Fallon. And Damn Ryder.
How had my night gotten so screwed up? And why did Mason have to go and kiss me?
Now I remembered why I hated alcohol. It took people I knew and loved and changed them into people who cared only about themselves, and didn’t care who they hurt in the process.
Fallon snored softly like she always did when drunk.
I glared. Tonight had seemed like a breakthrough in our friendship and then she goes and sleeps with my best friend after making out with Luke in the club.
I rolled onto my side, tucked into a ball and pulled the pillow over my head.
My phone chimed. If it was a drunk text from Mason I probably didn’t want to read it, but curiosity got the best of me. I flipped over and dug through my purse.
Ryder: Did you make it back to your room okay?
Me: Yeah. Sorry about that.
Ryder: I guess I asked about the wrong guy tonight.
Me: Yeah, you did.
Ryder: So, do you like Mason?
Me: Wrong guy again.
Ryder: ?
Me: Ask me if I like you.
Ryder: I don’t want the answer to that one.
What did that mean? I’d really thought after tonight there could be something more between us. I stared at my phone, having no response for him.