Page 47 of Unloved

Meanwhile, my anger toward the girl only grows with every hesitant step my captain takes up the stairs, eyes over his shoulder.

It’s late now; most of the party has headed downtown or dispersed. Holden and Bennett are back at my side—the latter looking more relaxed than I’ve seen him in a while, a light smile on his lips as he cracks open a beer. I can’t seem to muster the same peace or joy—I feel like an utter disappointment. Rhys is upstairs, miserable and hurting over a girl I could’ve warned him about at that very first party. He’s in too deep now.

I’m about to bother Bennett about the entire situation when someone steps into our kitchen with clicking heels.

Sadie Brown—in a very short dress, a big leather jacket, and tall black heeled boots, with her signature dark red lips—is two hours late.

“Freddy.” She nods. “Hey—have you guys seen Rhys?”

“Look who finally decided to show,” I say, finishing the shot Holden’s poured into my cup. “A little late for him, actually.”

She looks upset, and my stomach lurches a little, like I’ve done something wrong. But I shake that thought from my head quickly—she’s playing with Rhys’s feelings. She’s a bad friend to Ro. They deserve better.

I give Bennett a quick once-over. He’s uncomfortable, his smile gone completely as he hunches massive shoulders over the table, avoiding both Sadie’s and my glances.

“I know I’m late,” she says, her voice shaking a bit. “But I need to talk with him.”

“Not happening,” I snap, more harshly than I mean to. “Get out.”

“Freddy.” Bennett finally breaks, sounding frustrated, hardened. He looks at Sadie—something like sympathy or deep understanding flickering in his blue eyes. It only ignites my frustration further, as ifI’mthe one who doesn’t understand. The outsider. The broken, left-out other to the Bennett-Rhys-and-now-Sadie triad.

“No.” I crush the cup in my hand, fury flushing through my blood. I toss it into the trash can, narrowed eyes never leaving Sadie. The words I want to say to her are all jumbled in my head. I want to yell and rage over her friendship with Ro as much as I want to erupt on her about Rhys.

I may not know Sadie, but I know of her—especially last year. Every single party I attended, she was there. And never alone; she even showed up with Paloma a few times, but she always found what she wanted—alcohol, an athlete, and a quick romp in the bathroom. It’s not judgment of her that makes me disapprove of her with Rhys. It’s the fact that IknowRhys couldn’t do a one-night stand if he tried. Friends with benefits don’t exist for Rhys. He’s an all-or-nothing kind of guy, and I admire him for it.

The same way I admire Ro, her devotion to her friendships that becomes more apparent with every interaction we have. And I can’t help but want to tuck them both away from Sadie where she can’t hurt them.

And yourself, right? Because if anything, you’re just like her.

I stomp out the threatening voice inside before turning to Bennett instead of the small figure skater in our kitchen entryway.

“You saw him, Reiner. He stared at the fucking door all night waiting for her.” I barely give him time to speak before I’m back to Sadie—the slight leash on my anger disappearing. “You’ve already hurt him once tonight. Considering your track record, I think it’d be better if I stop you now.”

Each word seems to hit her like a slap, but I can’t stop myself. It’s like acid, burning my throat as I push it all out.

“You don’t give a shit about him.”

The room feels too quiet—even with the music trilling through our speaker system. Still, there’s a cold flush to my skin now. I feel hollow.

“If I didn’t give a shit about him, Freddy, I think you’d know. But this isn’t like last semester. And Rhys is… different.”

I roll my eyes and mumble sarcastically beneath my breath, which seems only to set off the mini volcano that is Sadie Brown.

“I love sex as much as you do,Freddy, and that’s not a fucking crime just because I’m a girl. But I guarantee I care more about Rhys than you’ve ever cared about a girl you put your dick in.”

Each word hits like an arrow, finding her intended target until I’m bleeding out.

You’re not better than her. You’re just like her. If she doesn’t deserve Rhys, then you don’t deserve to even befriendswith Ro, let alone whatever fantasy you’re already spinning in your head.

“He’s in his room,” Bennett finally says, but his words sound garbled and distant in my ears. She takes off, a desperation to her movements that makes me feel like I may have crossed a line.

“Little harsh, Freddy,” Holden mutters, wincing. “Let them do what they want.”

I shutter my eyes to all their reactions before reaching for the dark bottle of Jim Beam. Bennett knocks my hand away with a hard shake of his head.

“You’re done.”

“I’m fine,” I snap back.

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