One
Phoenix
November, Junior Year — Six Months Later
“So…why are we here again?”
“We’re just having a good time,” my best friend says, giving me an off-handed shrug as he continues looking around the space. “Aren’t you having fun?”
Not one fucking bit.
I like parties just fine, though not when the only person in the room I even know is Kase. Those types of parties end up with me glued to his side while he socializes, and it’s just weird. Not to mention awkward as shit.
This is one of those situations.
Which is why I’m about to tell him I’m bored out of my mind, even more out of my element, and have been ready to get out of here the moment we walked through the door thirty minutes ago.
Too bad for me, I don’t get the chance, because a tiny blonde tries to squeeze between me and the random guy to my left…
and she completely drenches the side of my thigh with beer in the process.
“Oops! Sorry,” she says, righting her solo cup with a sloppy smile and continuing on her merry way.
Wonderful.
“Yeah,” I shout over to Kason, who doesn’t even notice what happened. “I’m having a great fucking time.”
Not.
Honestly, it’s moments like this when I really hate college.
The days I wish I never came to Leighton have become much more frequent lately.
Though it’s got nothing to do with the school or party life or drunken sorority girls spilling beer on me, and everything to do with having too deep of a loyalty to my best friend.
To the point where I let him drag me out on a Thursday night when I should be studying.
Or maybe the time I gave up my first choice in school so we could room together here.
But I guess the first step is acknowledging there’s a problem. I just have no idea how to stop putting him first.
“See? Just let loose and have a little fun.”
I roll my eyes, irritation setting deeper in my bones with every passing second we spend here.
“Who are you looking for?” I ask as best I can over the music.
He doesn’t hear me, so I give him a slight elbow jab to the bicep.
“Ow,” he mutters, rubbing the spot and finally looking at me. “What was that for?”
“In case you weren’t aware, you go deaf when your eyes are working overtime.”
All I get for a response is a distracted, oh, yeah, before he goes back to searching for what or whomever he’s waiting for, still entirely oblivious to my annoyance.
I wipe my beer-dampened hand on the dry part of my pants, wishing now more than ever I would’ve stayed back at our apartment. But, unfortunately for me, Kason has noticed the dramatic shift of my demeanor into anti-party mode and is looking to change it.
“There’s beer pong in the backyard,” Kason tells me, still scanning the crowd. “Go call the next game and start having some fun.”
“Kind of need a partner for beer pong,” I mutter under my breath, knowing damn well he won’t hear me. Then again, I could probably shout it in his ear and he’d still be too distracted to know what I said.
Shoving down my frustration, I head out toward the keg and grab a beer. Beer pong and flip cup tournaments are in full swing on the patio, and I watch for a while before deciding to take Kason at his word and mark us down for the next game.
I haven’t been to a party since the finals week rager last May, and I’ll admit—despite being ignored by my best friend—it’s not as bad as I remember. Granted, I’m not drunk or pissed off about losing a game or lonely as fuck after being dumped.
A night spent drunk and desperate to escape reality is a toxic combination: a fact proven in this very house last year when I made the single greatest mistake of my life.
Sleeping with Holden Sykes.
I try pushing the thoughts away, yet being back here makes it nearly impossible.
The memories this place holds only amplify the self-loathing and regret as each one comes flooding back, making me sick to my stomach.
Even months later, I can’t understand how I thought getting obliterated after a shitty week—just to screw the biggest player on campus—was a good idea.
I am the definition of a cliché.
A cliché only made worse by his refusal to acknowledge my existence when I see him everywhere now. In class, around campus. At every one of Kason’s games, thanks to them being teammates.
He’s impossible to escape. Like fucking herpes.
So why wouldn’t he be standing next to Kason, chatting away, when I walk back into the house? And looking way too good, to be fair, I might add. Even for a super-douche.
“You’re lookin’ good, Kase,” I hear Holden say when I reach them, and the way his whiskey brown eyes take their time drifting up and down Kason’s entire body makes my stomach roll. Not to mention the way his hands keep touching him—a little too friendly for my comfort.
After all, there was a moment in time he looked at me that way. Touched me like that too.
But now, as his eyes meet mine, there’s not a hint of recognition crossing his face. And it only serves to piss me off even more than his presence.
“Uh, thanks,” Kason says awkwardly before his attention shifts to me. “This is Phoenix. Mercer. I, uh, don’t think you’ve officially met.”
We definitely have, but if Holden wants to play it off like we haven’t, then two can play his game. Which he does, keeping his poker face intact as he gives me one of those stupid bro nods that causes his honey-blond hair to flop over his forehead.
“Hey, I’m Holden.”
Anger bubbles up inside me, and I bite out a forced, “I know who you are.”
Once again, not a single ounce of awareness crosses his face before his focus moves back to Kason like I’m not even here.
Fine, so maybe I’m not okay with playing this game of his, because every moment he spends acting like we’ve never met—like that night never happened—simply pisses me off more.
How he can just stand here and act like he has no clue who I am is beyond me.
But then again, he hasn’t said anything to me in the history class we share, where he sits a couple rows in front of me.
There have been moments where our paths have crossed on campus too, yet he’s never given so much as an inkling about what happened in this very house being a blip on his radar.
I’m just another notch on his bedpost—utterly unworthy of a second thought.
The annoyance I felt earlier only intensifies as I stand here awkwardly while the two of them talk—Holden shamelessly touching and flirting with Kason the entire time.
It makes the discomfort I was already feeling all the worse, making no signs of getting better when it continues for a solid fifteen minutes.
The only reason it ends at all is because I finally speak up after the third-wheeling reaches the point of unbearable.
“Aren’t we waiting for someone?” I finally ask Kason, cutting off whatever Holden’s about to say.
Kason’s brows furrow as he shakes his head. “Not anymore.”
What?
“You were standing here searching the crowd for fuckin’ half an hour before I went out back,” I remind him.
Kason’s green eyes flare a bit before his head gives the slightest nod toward Holden.
“Not anymore,” he says again, this time through gritted teeth.
What is happening right now?
Holden’s inquisitive gaze shifts between us before a little smirk forms on his lips. “You were looking for me?”
“Uh, I mean…” Kason stutters and stumbles over his words for a second before he finally strings together enough words for a sentence. “I said I’d meet you here.”
I’m so lost; I might as well have been dropped in the middle of nowhere without a road map. Because there’s no reason in the world for Kason to be waiting for Holden at a party. I mean, sure, they’re teammates. Maybe even more friends than acquaintances, since they spend so much time together.
Besides that though, they don’t run in the same circles. So why—
“You ready to head out soon?” Holden asks, slicing through my thoughts.
The question is clearly aimed at Kason, seeing as Holden still hasn’t offered a hint of recognition toward me.
Which creates far more confusion on my end.
It’s only when my eyes catch the way Holden licks his lips—an action brimming with pure, predatorial sex—that the puzzle pieces start coming together, smacking me in the forehead like a fucking V8.
Kason was waiting for Holden. And now Holden wants them to leave together.
Emotions course through me in rapid succession, circling round and round like a carousel. Anger. Betrayal. Sadness. Hurt. Regret.
Maybe even a bit of jealousy, though I’m not quite ready to unpack that at the moment. But, regardless, it sticks, now causing me to lash out at my best friend in ways I’d never dreamed of in the past. Not until this moment.
My brows crash together, and I feel my nose wrinkle up in some mixture of disbelief and disgust before uttering a single question.
“You’re fucking him, Kase? Seriously?”
Kason’s mouth drops slightly, evidently shocked by my crass outburst. He recovers quickly, though, and goes to explain himself.
“Phoe—”
“Save it,” I scoff, taking a step backward. “I don’t wanna hear it.”
Kason takes a step toward me and grabs my forearm, guilt and pleading written all over his face.
“We’re not…Just let me explain,” he says, glancing at the people around us to make sure no one is paying attention. They aren’t, of course, but even if they were, I doubt I’d so much as blink an eye. Not when I’m still reeling from this bombshell.
Holden Sykes.
Out of everyone else attending Leighton—hell, in the entire world—it had to be Holden fucking Sykes.
The same jackass who is watching this exchange with a blend of amusement and disbelief…and still not one ounce of recognition on his face when his eyes land on me.
Un-fucking-believable.
“I’m outta here,” I mutter before pulling my arm from Kason’s grip.
I shove my way through the crowd to get away from them both, my emotions still swirling as much as my thoughts. The back door is the nearest exit, and I make a beeline for it.
I need to get out here. Now . So I don’t have to watch Kason go home with the campus man-whore. There’s no way I can ever be okay with it. Not after having gone there myself, only to regret it with every fiber of my being.
Fingers wrap around my bicep before I reach the back door, and I glance over my shoulder to find Kason attached to the hand, keeping me from escaping all over again.
“Phoe, hold on,” he says, drawing me away.
“We’re best friends,” I tell him, not holding on one iota.
His brows clash together. “I know we are.”
“Right, so I was under the impression we’d tell each other everything.”
And as those words leave my mouth, I feel the full weight of their hypocrisy. Especially since I’ve neglected to tell him about the night I spent with Holden last year.
Confusion and irritation mix in Kason’s expression before he bites out, “We’re not a couple of teenage girls. I don’t need to clear my sex life with you.”
I cannot believe he just said that.
A sharp bark of disbelieving laughter leaves me. “Then, by all means, go get your dick wet. Holden’s a pro by now, so I’m sure it’ll be good. But don’t come crying to me with your morning-after regrets.”
I go to walk away again, but Kason tightens his hold on my arm.
“Can you just hold on for a second?”
“No, Kase,” I snap. “You wanna act like a cool jackass to get laid? Go for it. But don’t sit here and treat me like shit when I’m just looking out for you.”
Kason’s hands raise in clear surrender. “I’m hearing you, but you don’t have all the facts.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Mine, but it’s about to be yours if you don’t shut up and let me fucking talk,” he snaps, a hint of irritation in his voice.
My teeth clamp down on my tongue. “Fine. Then talk.”
“We aren’t sleeping together,” he starts, gauging my reaction. The disbelief must be written clear as day on my face, because he amends. “Okay, we haven’t slept together.”
“Meaning you’re planning to,” I say, a statement rather than a question.
He remains silent, neither confirming nor denying.
But his silence speaks louder than words, and I scoff.
“Do what you want, Kase. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when he shows his true colors after getting exactly what he wants from you. ”
We lock eyes in a stare-down of wills, waiting for the other to back down. But I know what I’m talking about in this situation, so I won’t be the one to concede first.
“Fine. You’ve made your point,” he mutters with a sigh before glancing longingly over his shoulder at Holden. “Just let me go say goodbye at least, and then we can head home.”
I nod and watch as he heads back over to Holden, the same unsettled, nauseous feeling still rolling around in my gut. Yet I don’t quite understand it. After all, I’m getting what I wanted—though it seems kind of ridiculous to put it that way.
But the feeling is there regardless.
Like a bad omen.
A premonition that this is only the beginning.