CHAPTER 28
Nastya
The party at Jen Meadows’ house is lame and we know when we get there that we probably won’t stay. It’s a relief, because even though it’s inside, the noise at these things always gets to me. It’s too hard to filter out the sounds and where they’re coming from. I’ve gotten to the point where I can relax some indoors with people around, but given a choice, I’d prefer the quiet.
Drew keeps me attached to his side more diligently than usual. Normally, he drapes his arm over my shoulders as we walk in, in a clichéd display of ownership, and then once that’s established, I’m released. He never lets me get far and I’m never more than a couple feet from him, but tonight he doesn’t want to let me go at all.
He keeps looking at me sideways and smiling like we’re coconspirators in something. I should regret what I did, but I don’t. Even though he did spend the whole ride over here trying to get me to tell him why I don’t talk, until I finally explained to him, in vivid detail, the fate that would befall him if he asked again. He didn’t. I think it had something to do with the love he has for his boy parts.
His arm snakes around my waist and he backs me against a wall just in time for me to look over his shoulder and see Tierney Lowell walk in the door. Chris Jenkins has a cup in her hand and is talking in her ear before she makes it through the living room.
Drew slides his hand down my arm and laces his fingers through mine, pulling me towards the stairs in direct view of the rest of the room. I have two choices; I can stop him in front of everyone, which would consist of me standing still and refusing to budge while he tries to lead me up the stairs, or I can go with him. Option A is the one that will draw more attention. Drew and I disappearing upstairs to a bedroom at a party isn’t going to raise any eyebrows.
Apparently we’ve been screwing for weeks. It doesn’t bother me. Drew has had every opportunity to try to take advantage of me and he never has. Other than the arm around my shoulders and occasionally holding my hand, he doesn’t touch me at all.
No
surreptitious
feel-copping
whatsoever. Drew keeps me around for some reason, but whatever it is, I’m fairly certain it isn’t sex.
“Why do you want everyone to think we’re together?” I whisper when he pulls me through the door of an empty bedroom and shuts it behind me. He reaches down and turns the lock. The only light is coming in under the door and from a streetlamp outside the window. It’s a guestroom with a bed that’s obviously already been occupied once tonight. The music is still so loud that I don’t have to worry about anyone hearing us but I keep my voice down anyway and Drew follows suit.
“Because we should be.” He leans back against the door and closes his eyes.
He’s delivering a line but he doesn’t mean a word of it.
“You don’t do together. You do one-offs.”
“I could make an exception.” He looks me up and down but his heart isn’t in it and I don’t know why he’s bothering.
“You could, but if you did, it wouldn’t be for me.”
“What would you do if I kissed you right now?”
“I’d probably let you, just to see what all the fuss is about. Then I’d rip your lips off and feed them to you, which would be kind of hard because, you know, you’d have no lips.”
He nods, not looking at me. “You’re scary.”
“So you’re not going to kiss me?”
“No. But not because of the lip ripping thing, though that is compelling.”
“You must have a good reason to tank your reputation over it.”
“I don’t have to tank anything. What do you think we’re doing right now?
Talking? You don’t even speak, so that limits the options. Everyone downstairs knows I’m screwing you right now.” He pulls out his shirt and rumples his clothing.
“Am I enjoying it?”
“I’m the best you’ve ever had,” he says hypnotically, like he’s using Jedi mind tricks on me.
“Undoubtedly. So why not just do what we’re doing anyway?”
“I could call your bluff, you know.” He opens one eye to look at me.
“But you won’t.” I might be a little disappointed if I wasn’t so relieved. “You should at least tell me why. I showed you mine.”
“If I showed you mine, you’d probably rip that off, too.” He won’t give me anything, even though there’s obviously something there to give.
“So what was the point of the past couple months if you never had any intention of following through?”
“People think I’m hooking up with you, they won’t expect me to be screwing everything else on two legs.”
“But isn’t that what you do?” I never really bought the whole of his image, at least not to assume that it was all of him.
But he was the one selling it. I was led to believe that if you look up moral turpitude
– or maybe just man-whore—the definition is Drew Leighton. This is shattering that image.
“I liked you so much better when you didn’t talk.”
“Yeah, I know. Can’t unring a bell.
Don’t know what you got ‘till it’s gone.
Hindsight’s a bitch. Answer the question.” He rolls his eyes and exhales, making sure I experience the full weight of his annoyance.
“It’s what I’m supposed to do. If I stop, everyone will want to know why.
Then they’ll start speculating. Subterfuge is much easier.”
“Why me?”
“I figured you’d never tell anyone the truth.” He shrugs, and if Drew Leighton could do sheepish, I’d say he was trying, but it’s a little out of his depth. “Sorry. It didn’t start out that way. If it makes you feel better, I really did plan to pull the same shit with you as always. If you would have gone for it, we’d have hooked up the first possible opportunity and we would not be here right now. But you just seemed to take it all as a joke and it was a relief. I was relieved to not have to follow through on it and the more I chased you, the less you took me seriously. So the real question is why did you put up with it?”
“Same reason as you. People smell your piss all over me, they assume I’m off the table. Other than Ethan the Arrogant, I get left alone. Win-win.” I don’t really care what people say about me. I’m fine with lies and rumors. It’s the truth I don’t want being told.
“Where does Josh fit into this?” he asks, finally meeting my eyes.
“We’re not talking about Josh.”
“Aren’t we?” he probes.
“Josh is screwing someone else.” Add that to the fact that he doesn’t want to have to give a crap about anyone ever again and he’s kind of an impossible dream.
“So? Josh Bennett has a f*ck buddy.” He shrugs like he’s just told me that Josh wears pants. It’s the same tone he used when he dropped it on me the first time and it sucks just the same to hear it. “How do you think he’s managed to keep his hands off of you this whole time? Doesn’t mean anything.” The look I give him says otherwise. “Don’t get all judgmental. He’s a good guy, not a saint.”
“What is she to him?” I try not to sound jealous or like I’m fishing for information, but I am on both counts.
“She,” he says, looking at my chest, because he is still Drew, before pulling his gaze up to my eyes, “is a poor man’s Sunshine.”
I have a seriously hard time believing that, because Josh never comes anywhere near me.
“He doesn’t even look at me sideways much less try to touch me.”
“You’re right. He doesn’t look at you sideways. He looks right at you and doesn’t even try to hide it. The only thing I’ve ever seen him drool over as much has four legs and is made of mahogany but I don’t think he’s planning to ask it out any time soon.”
“Don’t let him do that, Drew. Not with me. He’ll listen to you.”
“No. He won’t,” he pauses to look up at me from the floor. “I think that beam’s been cut, Nastya.”
“Beam’s been cut?”
“Yeah, like that time has passed, that ship has sailed, that cherry’s been popped.
I was just trying to put it in building terms but my frame of reference is limited.
Didn’t work, huh?”
“Not really.”
“Don’t worry. Josh likes to keep his life free of unnecessary complications. I think you’re safe for a while.” He reaches up and tousles his hair purposefully.
“How long do we have to stay in here?”
I’m
done
with
the
Josh
conversation. Some things are better left alone and this is the definition of one of those things. I look at the tangled sheets on the bed and decide against it. I slide down the wall onto the floor next to Drew and cross my ankles. He pulls my head onto his shoulder, letting me lean against him.
“At least another twenty minutes. I have a reputation to uphold.”