“Jesus Christ,” he said, his hand fisting in my hair. “Why haven’t you answered your damn phone?”
“I left my phone in the car, I think.” My voice was muffled against his chest.
He swore again as he pulled back. His hands went to my cheeks, holding me in place in a way that didn’t trigger dark memories. “I’ve been blowing up your phone—so have Jacob and Brittany.”
“I’m sorry.” I blinked slowly. “I didn’t—”
“You’ve been crying.” His eyes narrowed until only a thin strip of blue showed in both. “You’ve been fucking crying.”
“No, I haven’t.” The lie sounded lame.
“Have you looked in the mirror?” he demanded. When I shook my head, he dropped his hands and closed the door behind him. He then took my hand. A muscle ticked along his jaw and when he spoke his voice was hard. “Come on.”
I let him pull me into the hallway bathroom. When he flipped on the overhead light, I winced and then I saw myself in the mirror. “Oh God…”
My eyes were puffy and red, but it was the streaks of black mascara that truly cemented the fact that my first attempt at attending a party in five years had not ended well. My gaze met Cam’s in the mirror and embarrassment swamped me. I dropped my head in my hands and muttered, “Perfect—just perfect.”
“It’s not that bad, sweetheart.” His voice softened as his hands settled on my upper arms. He gently pulled my hands. “Sit down.”
I sat on the closed toilet seat. Staring at my fingers, I forced my sluggish brain to catch up. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” He ran a washcloth under the tap and knelt down in front of me. “Is that a serious question?”
“Guess not.”
“Look at me.” When I didn’t, he repeated it. “Dammit, Avery, look at me.”
Whoa. Anger rose like smoke through me. My chin lifted. “Happy?”
The muscle was back, ticking away. “Why would I come here? You left a party without saying a word to anyone.”
“I told—”
“You told Brittany you were getting some fresh air. That was three hours ago, Avery. They thought you were with me, but when they saw me later they knew you weren’t. After what happened with that asshole, you scared them.”
My anger seeped out of me, replaced by guilt. “I didn’t mean to. I just left my phone in the car.”
He didn’t say anything as he smoothed the washcloth under my eyes, wiping away the mascara. “You didn’t need to leave.”
“I overreacted.” My lashes lowered and I let out a breath. “The guy… he really hadn’t done anything wrong. He just surprised me and I overreacted. I ruined the party.”
“You didn’t ruin the party. And that son of a bitch shouldn’t have been grabbing you. Fuck. I heard you say ‘let me go’ and I know damn well he did to. Maybe I shouldn’t have reacted as… strongly as I had, but fuck it. He was grabbing you and I didn’t like it.”
Yeah, I had told the guy to let me go, but he’d been drunk and stupid. All he had wanted to do was dance with me. I knew when a guy became a threat. He hadn’t hit that stage. Who knew if he would have, but it had been the memories that had sent me over the edge.
“You didn’t need to come here,” I said finally, suddenly very tired. “You should be at the party having fun.”
Cam was quiet so long that I had to look at him. The expression on his face was a cross between wanting to strangle me and something far, far different. There was a dipping motion in my stomach, very much like it had been at the party before everything went to hell.
“We’re friends, right?” he said in a quiet, low voice.
“Yes.”
“This is what friends do. They check on each other. Brittany and Jacob would’ve been here, but I made them stay there.”
Maybe I totally misread that moment we were having. “I need to get my phone and call—”
“I’ll text Brittany. I got her number.” He rocked back on his heels, watching me. “The fact that you wouldn’t expect anyone to check up on you is… I don’t even know what it is.”
I didn’t say anything and started to look away, but his hand came up, resting against my cheek. His thumb moved, smoothing across my skin. Our eyes met, and I wished I had something witty to say, something that would erase this night. Well, everything except the way he’d looked at me at the party. I sort of liked that.
Okay. I had really liked that, but whatever.
“Why were you crying?” he asked. “Wait. Did that fucker hurt you, because I will—”
“No! Not at all,” I said quickly. I had a feeling he’d track that guy down and beat the crap out of him if he thought he’d hurt me.
“Then why?” His thumb moved again, and I moved out of some long forgotten instinct. I turned my head into his palm. “Talk to me?”
Talking was so easy for most people, but most people had things they actually wanted to talk about. “I don’t know. I guess I was just being a girl.”
His brows rose. “You sure that’s all?”