Page 40 of The Boy I Loved
Mason’s eyes shifted toward Dominic, almost as if he wanted him to hear what he said next. “Yeah. Found her walking on a darkened backroad and offered her a ride.”
I shifted uncomfortably at his side, not liking all of the eyes on me. Mason moved his arm to drape it around my shoulders, securing the invisible noose around my throat. His spicy cologne wafted from him, drifting into the atmosphere surrounding us.
“I see,” Rodney murmured, turning his attention back to me. “Well, there’s alcohol in the kitchen. I think Tory’s in there now.”
I glanced around the living room, my gaze stopping on where Nicholas and Vincent stood near the wall with a cup in hand as they assessed the crowd lurking in the living room. They were always watching,observing,even at their own events.
Mason forced me forward with a soft nudge, and I hesitantly followed his lead. The kitchen was large, made of white and gray granite. Bar stools surrounded the center island, and on the other end of the room was the fridge and snack bar.
I saw Tory before she spotted me. Her blonde hair was curled around her shoulders, and she was dressed in a tight, turquoise shirt with black leggings. As we approached, she turned around, her eyes widening instantly.
“Haz—” She began but stopped mid-sentence when she realized who I was with. “You came with the trash.”
Embarrassment pooled inside me, heating every crevice of my body. “He just offered me a ride,” I defended.
Despite the insult, Mason just grinned in that charming way he always did. It had to have been some kind of talent. He was always so at ease, so … unlike me.
“Now, now. No need to get hostile.” He smirked, dropping his arm from around my shoulders. A cool gust of air traveled up my spine from the loss of contact. “In fact, you should be thanking me.”
Tory scoffed. “Thanking you?”
I wanted to tell her to chill out, that there was no reason to spend the night arguing, but the words didn’t make it past my lips. I was the furthest thing from confrontational.
Mason hummed in agreement. “Hazel wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.”
“Are you kidding?” Tory snapped. “Y?—”
“Tory.” I sighed.
She pressed her lips into a tight line, but her narrowed eyes said a million different things. Blowing out a small breath of relief, I drifted over to stand beside her, taking notice of the assortment of different alcohol products lining the counter beside the fridge. Even though I was no longer paying any mind to my best friend, I knew she was still glaring at Mason; I could feel the hostility permeating off of her.
They could tear one another’s throats out for all I cared—as long as I was a safe distance away from them.
I grabbed a plastic cup and filled it three-fourths of the way with vodka before topping it with orange juice. I’d never been a big drinker but tonight seemed like it would be one of those nights, especially where Dominic was concerned.
Mason grabbed a beer from the fridge, and we all headed back to the living room where everyone else resided. Mason hadn’t been lying. There weren’t a lot of people here, and it was small. That put mesomewhatat ease.
I intentionally avoided looking at Dominic, not wanting to see the girl on his lap, or how he spoke to her. My stomach twisted with unease. He was much nicer to her than he was with me.
Tory took a seat on the far side of the additional loveseat that was void of anyone. Just as I moved with intent to take the spot beside her, Mason took the spot on the other end, pulling me into his lap. My stomach dipped with nerves, a flush building along my skin. At first, I thought he simply wanted me in his lap, but after afew seconds, I realized that wasn’t the case. Nicholas and Vincent joined us moments later, filling the gap between me and Tory.
I cradled the drink in my hand, watching as the orange liquid swirled within the cup. One glance at Dominic had me tilting my chin and downing a quarter of its contents.
His hand was resting on the girl’s hip, his lips moving against her ear as he whispered sweet nothings that had her giggling.
Ihatedthis.
I remembered how things used to be. How we’d curl up on the mattress in the treehouse and watch movies while eating our favorite snacks. How we used to build these stupid forts in our bedrooms and sleep in them on the nights our parents permitted sleepovers. I always knew he could do better than me. Maybe … he realized that, too.
Mason’s hand on my thigh drew me back to the present. There was no sense in dwelling on the way things used to be. One thing had become abundantly clear: we’d never have that again—we’dneverbe those two kids who found solace in one another. Our friendship died in that treehouse, and so did the boy I loved.
The alcohol was strong, burning my throat as it lit a fire in its wake. The vodka dulled some of the ache, but it was still there, still present, just like the scars along my heart.
Vincent turned his head, trailing his dark blue eyes over me. The corner of his lips twitched, something sinister entering his gaze. He scared me the most. There was something unhinged about him. Hell, there was something unhinged aboutallof them, but even more so when it came to Vincent Patterson.
I didn’t know much about the boy occupying my right. I’d heard rumors that he had a crazy older brother and a younger sister, and that they lived in another state. Aside from those vague details, the dude was a complete mystery to me.
Tearing my gaze away, I took another long drink of the alcohol resting between my fingers. Something felt … wrong. Maybe it was being out in the middle of the night. Maybe it had something to do with the boy holding me in his lap. Hell, it could even be because Dominic was here, acting as cold and heartless as ever.
