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“I’m not. She is.”
“But why?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Like I said, I think she’s jealous of you. I can’t be friends with you because she’s jealous? Such bullshit. She can’t tell me what to do.”
“Don’t you want to respect her wishes? She’s your girlfriend. I would think you’d care about her feelings. And why does it matter if we’re friends or not?”
“Like I just said, I don’t like Alana telling me what to do. Saying who I can and cannot talk to. She’s not my mom. It’s not my problem if she’s jealous of you,” he practically spits out.
I hate that he keeps saying that. “Maybe she’s not jealous. She could just be uncomfortable with you wanting to talk to me when she knows …”
I clamp my lips shut, not about to delve any further.
“When she knows what?” he asks after a few seconds of silence.
“Nothing.” I shake my head.
“You used to like me, right?”
Thank God it’s dark out here so he can’t see how red my face must be. My cheeks are burning and I forget all about being cold. I try to speak, but the words feel like they’re clogged in my throat, and besides, what would I say?
“If you love Alana, you’ll focus all of your attention on her and forget about me,” I tell him, standing up a little straighter. “I don’t need to be brought into the middle of your relationship. You’ve both made your choice.”
He remains quiet for a moment, and I can hear the waves crashing along the shore in the near distance, mixed with the steady throb of the bass coming from the music playing at the party. I wish I was there, laughing with Iris. Wondering if she has a thing for Brooks. Staring at Rhett and contemplating throwing myself at him.
Not here in the dark having to listen to Silas complain about Alana and how they fight about me, which is flat out dumb.
And none of my business.
“I have to go,” I tell him, turning on my heel and scurrying away from him. I launch into a full out run when I hear him call my name. Hear his footsteps drawing closer. A quick peek over my shoulder lets me know he’s chasing after me, a determined expression on his face, and I increase my pace. Keep looking backward to make sure he’s not too close—
I collide with a wall. It’s solid but warm and I realize that it’s not just a wall, it’s an actual person. A boy. A tall, broad boy whose arms immediately clamp around me, steadying me on my feet.
“Hey, everything okay?”
I’d recognize that deep voice anywhere.
Lifting my head, I stare into Rhett’s eyes, sending him a pleading look. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?” His voice is a low murmur and sends a zip of awareness down my spine that’s only intensified when he brushes my hair away from my face, his fingers lingering on my skin.
This type of reaction never happened with Silas.
“Oh. Hey.” We both turn to find Silas standing in front of us, looking vaguely sweaty as he shoves his hair from his forehead. “You all right, Willow?”
“She’s fine,” Rhett answers for me, his voice firm. He somehow angles me to his side, keeping his arm around my shoulders and I wonder what we look like to Silas.
I’m hoping we look like a couple.
Silas frowns, his gaze switching from me to Rhett and then back to me. “Willow? Are you okay?”
“She’s with me, you know.” Rhett’s arm tightens around my shoulders and he tugs me even closer. He’s as solid as a rock and so warm. I lean into him as if I have no control of myself. “You can take your concern elsewhere—like maybe to your girlfriend? I highly suggest you get the hell out of here if you don’t want any trouble.”
“What the hell? Are you serious?” Silas’s gaze meets mine. “You never mentioned that to me.”
“You never gave me the chance,” I murmur, going along with it.
God, what am I doing?
