Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
RHETT
Twelve Years Ago
College Junior Year
The house is packed. Bodies shoulder to shoulder, bass rattling the floorboards, cheap beer everywhere. Josh and Margo bailed an hour ago, which means the job of keeping Rachel safe has somehow defaulted to me.
And to make things worse, Rachel is on her third shot. Maybe fourth. It’s hard to tell with how fast that girl moves when she is trying to prove a point.
She tosses another back with a lime quickly trailing afterwards.
She laughs at something the guy beside her says.
Sean. Or Steve. Something starting with an S.
I don’t give a shit enough to learn his name.
All I know is he is leaning in way too close, breathing the same air as her.
That and the fact that his eyes glued to her mouth like he has already claimed it.
My jaw pulls tight enough to crack.
She shouldn’t even be here without Margo. She shouldn’t be drinking this much. And she absolutely shouldn’t be letting this idiot put his hand on the back of her chair like he is “being casual.” I know that move. I’ve used that move.
I cut through the crowd, shoulder-first. Bodies shift. I stop at her side and plant my hand on the table. I want whatever his name is to understand what is happening here. Who Sunny is really leaving this party with. Spoiler alert: it isn’t him.
Rachel blinks up at me, cheeks flushed. The smile on her face is loose.
“Hey, Rhett. Didn’t you know you’ve been relieved from your babysitting shift? I found your replacement.”
I watch her eyes flutter over to him, and it makes my skin crawl.
“You’re cut off, Sunny.”
She snorts. “Oh, please. I’m fine. Just because Josh left you in charge of me doesn’t mean I have to listen to you.”
She reaches for another shot, and her hand trembles. That’s the first thing I see. The second is Mr. S-whatever, damn near drooling as he stares straight down her shirt. Apparently, he has moved on from her mouth.
“Nope,” I say. “You’re done.”
The guy next to her raises a brow. “Man, she said she’s fine. Maybe let her decide for herself?”
I turn my head slowly. He has no idea how close he is to getting dragged outside.
“She’s cut off,” I repeat, voice lower. “I’m not saying it again.”
He tries to square up, make himself look big, like that’s supposed to scare me. He doesn’t understand. This is the wrong place, I’m the wrong guy, and she is the last girl he gets to put his eyes on.
“You her dad or something?”
My fist curls, and I have to force it open. “I am the guy who’s gonna break your hand if you keep touching her chair.”
His hand disappears instantly.
Rachel rolls her eyes and gives me an unimpressed look. “Rhett, come on. I’m not a child. He was just talking to me.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I saw how he was talking, Rach.”
Her eyebrows pull together, and out of defiance, she tries to reach for the shot again, but I slide it away from her.
She glares at me. “That’s mine.”
“Not anymore.”
She huffs while standing up. “You can’t boss me around just because you’re older.”
“I’m bossing you around because you’re drunk,” I say. “And because every guy in this room, including whatever the fuck his name is, is staring at you like they’re waiting for you to fall over.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but she doesn’t get the chance.
“Dude, she wants to stay. Maybe you should be the one to leave.”
I turn my head slowly until I’m looking right at him.
“Listen, I was being nice earlier. Real nice. Gave you the whole speech about breaking your hand and everything. That was your out, Buddy. Because here’s the problem—I’m tired, I’m sober, and now you’re really pissing me off.”
He swallows before I can continue.
“So let me make this simple, whatever-your-name-is.” I take a step forward, and he steps back. “Rachel has zero interest in you. Not a little. Not maybe. Not even in an alternate universe where you don’t dress like a tax refund. You never had a shot with her.”
His jaw twitches, and I think he is considering saying something else.
“And if you open your mouth one more time,” I continue, as a smile dances across my face, “I promise you, I will grab you by that ugly-ass shirt you’re wearing and put you through this wall so fast you’ll be begging me—not Rachel, me—to let her leave.”
His face drains of color. He shuts up instantly and walks in the other direction.
I turn back to her.
“Now, let’s go,” I tell her. “I think we’re done here.”
“I’m not—”
“Rachel.” I lean closer. “I will toss your ass over my shoulder and carry you out of here, if I have to.”
She blinks at me, stunned. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
She is drunk enough that she considers it as she stares at me with her lips parted. Then she sighs the way she always does right before she surrenders.
“Fine,” she grumbles. “But I’m only leaving because this party sucks.”
“Finally, something we can agree on.” I slide my hand to her waist, pulling her in close as I guide her through the crowd—partly to steady her, mostly so no one else gets any ideas.
Her steps are uneven, and twice she nearly trips. I catch her easily, each time earning a quiet huff of annoyance.
“Stop hovering,” she mutters.
“Stop tripping.”
“I’m not—”
She stumbles again. I catch her by the waist, steadying her so she doesn’t face-plant into the doorway.
“Exactly,” I say.
When we hit the porch, the cooler night air hits her, and she shivers. Without thinking, I take off my hoodie and pull it over her head. She fights me for a second, arms flailing inside the sleeves.
“Rhett,” she complains, muffled by the fabric.
“Just hold still.” I tug it down.
Her face appears again, hair sticking out everywhere. She looks ridiculous. And somehow still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
“Happy?” I ask.
“No.”
But I watch as she snuggles deeper into the hoodie.
We walk in silence for a minute, just the scrape of her shoes and the distant thump of music behind us. I keep close, ready to grab her if she stumbles. She hates it, but I can’t help it.
When she trips over nothing, again, I steady her with a hand at her elbow. At this point, I’m tempted to carry her home.
She pulls away, muttering, “I’m not made of glass.”
“Never said you were.” I wait until she’s steady again before adding, “But you sure as hell drank like you were trying to shatter tonight.”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to ‘shatter.’ I was having fun.”
“You were pounding shots like you were trying to forget something.”
She stiffens. “Rhett, don’t.”
“No.” I step in front of her, forcing her to stop. “What the hell got into you tonight?”
She tries to brush past me, but I move with her.
“Am I not allowed to drink and have fun? Or is that against the rules, grandpa?”
“I’ve seen you do both of those things, and they didn’t look like tonight.”
She tries to pick up the pace, but I place my hand on her shoulder, making her look back at me.
“Sunny,” I press. “Talk to me.”
She exhales hard, a frustrated, foggy sigh slipping out of her. “I don’t know. I just wanted to feel something.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Well, it’s the only one I’ve got.”
Her voice cracks at the end, quiet enough that I almost miss it. I drop my tone.
“Rachel.”
She stands very still. Her fingers twist the hem of my hoodie like she is trying to anchor herself.
“You ever get the feeling,” she says, barely audible, “that if you disappeared for a day… a week… nobody would notice? Not really.”
The words gut me. She doesn’t think people notice her? Was she not just in the same room I was? I saw them tonight, all eyes and intentions they didn’t deserve to have. And she just didn’t see it. Or didn’t believe it. Which is worse.
She lets out a shaky laugh. I think she means it to sound casual, but it lands flat.
“I don’t know. I think I’m just jealous, maybe.
” Her eyes drop to the sidewalk. “Of what Margo has. I’m happy she’s happy, and I’m happy Josh is happy.
Really. But I can’t help but want someone to look at me the way he looks at her. ”
The words come out so small they nearly disappear.
“Everywhere we go, Margo draws attention—and she doesn’t even try. She doesn’t even want it half the time.” She lifts one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “I just want to be noticed. Once.”
She swallows, blinking quickly, like she’s trying to beat back tears before they can form.
“My parents are obsessed with everything Josh touches. Every idea, every project, every accomplishment. I can’t compete with him.
I don’t even think they realize they’re doing it.
” Another shaky exhale. “But sometimes it feels like I’m just there.
The kid they forgot to pack in the car seat on the way home from the store. ”
Her voice cracks on the last word, and she presses her lips together, stuffing the emotion back down.
“Hey.” My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. “That’s not true.”
She doesn’t believe me. I can see it written all over that beautiful face of hers.
“And tonight?” She continues, words slurring just a little. “I thought maybe if I was more fun or louder, I would actually exist for a second.” Her voice trails for a moment, and she turns back around to start walking. “It was working until you ruined it,” she mumbles. “Sean was noticing.”
I exhale hard, catching up to her quick, uneven steps. Her skirt is twisted, her hair wild, cheeks flushed. Every inch of her is begging for trouble she doesn’t understand.
“You don’t want guys like Sean to notice you,” I say. “That guy only wanted one thing.”
She turns, eyes sharp despite the alcohol.
“Maybe I only wanted one thing.”
My stomach drops, heat surging up my spine before I can swallow it down.
“Rachel,” I warn.