Page 78 of Collateral Damage
Not that I have room to talk. I was fifteen when I had my first drink. It’s been a source of both pain and pleasure ever since.
“Why is Ethan dancing with that girl? Is she his girlfriend?”
The questions catch me off guard.
Oh man.
I wish I could make this easy for him.
“No, they’re not together,” I say carefully. “But if they were, it would be okay. Ethan deserves to find a new girlfriend, you know? He deserves to be happy.”
Chandler’s expression crumbles, and I feel like a total asshole. Sometimes being the messenger of bad news is the absolute worst.
“He doesn’t love Sybil anymore?”
I give his shoulder a little squeeze. “They’llalwayslove each other, but not the kind of love that’s needed to be boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“They were gonna get married.”
I nod because I get it. “Not anymore.”
Chandler’s face turns red and splotchy. “Why won’t anyone tell me what happened?”
I wish I could answer his question, but it’s not my place. Still, I can’t leave him hanging. He deserves some kind of explanation.
“They’ve changed as people and don’t want to do marriage together anymore.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Well, Ethan is focusing on school right now, and your sister is focusing on her career, and that’s okay.”
“If Ethan wants to focus on school, then why is Ethan dancing with other girls?”
We edge closer to the bar. “It’s fun. You had fun dancing with girls too, didn’t you? That doesn’t mean you’re dating them. Boys and girls can have fun without romance.”
He nods, and then it’s our turn to get drinks. We bring them to the table where Sybil has turned her glare in Ethan’s direction. I’ve got to hand it to my brother. He is giving zero shits tonight. In fact, he’s currently gyrating on some girl so fucking hard that it looks like he’s about to come right there on the dance floor. Good hell. Most people don’t act like this in clubs anymore, and Ethan rarely does, but apparently he’s channeling his inner 2000s.
Chandler is visibly upset again, his face beet-red and his eyes watering.
“Hey, you stay here, okay?” Sybil says to her brother. “I’m going to go talk to Ethan.”
He forces a smile as she marches off. I don’t think for one second she’s jealous about Ethan dancing with a woman. This is about Ethan being seconds away from taking a woman home when we’re supposed to be celebrating Chandler.
That said, Sybil doesn’t get a say in what Ethan does anymore. She can’t break up with him and then get mad when he wants to hook up with someone else. Ethan’s cheeks reddenafter she spends a minute with her hands flying around her, clearly upset as she yells at him. He returns to the table with his tail between his legs like a disobedient puppy getting chastised.
Sybil follows, but the woman Ethan was dancing with grabs hold of her arm and yanks her back, yelling something I can’t hear over the music. I’m out of my seat in less than a second.
“Go sit with Chandler,” I instruct to my brother, not sticking around as I make it to Sybil.
“You’re a real bitch,” the girl spits at Sybil.
“Back up,” I growl, and the woman throws her hands in the air and storms away.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Sybil turns on me, and anger bangs through me like a thunderclap. I think of the pain she’s caused and all the shit she’s put us through.
Grabbing hold of her wrist, I march her to the other side of the dance floor. I lead her right up to the far wall with the darkest shadows. She shakes her wrist from my hand and presses herself against the exposed brick. I tower over her, staring down at this woman who drives me crazy in every way.
“What do you want?” she snaps, her familiar perfume enveloping me in the small space, reminding me of how many times I’ve been reeled in by her sweet scent.
