10. Ten #2
“Do you want her to change or be more responsible?” Bree challenged.
“Because forcing somebody to own their own crap is not the same as wanting them to change. I’m guessing, because your sister is so much younger, that she grew up knowing that you would swoop in and clean up her messes whenever she made one. ”
“I guess that’s true.” I scratched my cheek. “I just don’t want to be the sort of person who demands somebody needs to change to be loved.”
“Oh, don’t be weird.” Bree made a face. “You’re doing the best thing for your sister.” She focused on Hayley. “You might be good for somebody who needs to be told what to do. You love bossing people around.”
“That just seems to happen,” Hayley argued. “I’m not in the mood for a relationship now, though, so give it a rest. Besides, it’s Wylie’s sister. I’ve always believed that dating the relatives of friends is a bad idea. I don’t want to date Wylie’s lazy sister.”
“She didn’t say she was lazy,” Bella argued.
“I can read between the lines.” Hayley sent me a knowing look.
“I didn’t use that exact word,” I agreed. “However, Lucy really is lazy. She needs to get it together at some point and realize she’s an adult. I’m just not sure when — or even if — that’s going to happen.”
“You’ll never know if you don’t make her try,” Bree said. “I’m not saying it to be mean. It could be the kindest thing you could ever do for her.”
I pressed my lips together and nodded. “I’ll take it under consideration.”
THE READER EVENT WAS HIGH energy, and I had a good time. Somehow — and it felt like a small miracle — I managed to shove Huxley out of my head and focus on the stories that the readers were telling me. All of them were entertaining, and it was nice to see such a cross section of people.
I believed that right until I took a breather and headed up to the bar for a cocktail. That was when one of the readers who had been listening to Nathan go on and on about the sequel to a movie called Smile detached and followed me.
I’d noticed him throughout the evening, the way his eyes followed me when I moved between tables.
At first, I’d thought he was just curious because I was a newer face.
Perhaps he had attended the reader events a previous year, and he just didn’t know who I was.
He kept staring, though, for hours, never letting up.
I didn’t realize he’d followed me to the bar until I turned, something called a Valencia Spritz clutched in my hand, and practically careened into him.
“Oh, sorry.” He grabbed my shoulders and righted me even though I was in no danger of falling. The smile he offered was friendly enough, yet his proximity unnerved me.
“I didn’t see you.” I tried to take a step back, but somebody had moved into the slot I’d just been occupying to order a drink, so there was nowhere to go. “I apologize.” I tried to move around him, but the rooftop was too busy for me to make an easy escape.
“What’s your hurry?” he asked on what might have been a charming smile under different circumstances. I didn’t like it at all this evening.
“I have to get back to the event.” I offered up a vague gesture.
He glanced over his shoulder to where everybody was chatting it up and having a good time. Then he shrugged. “They don’t seem to be missing you.” He unleashed that weird smile on me again when he turned back. “I’m Chad.”
Ugh. Chad. I hated the name Chad. It was just so … Chad. In college, I’d briefly dated a lacrosse player named Chad. He was a complete and total jerk, something I didn’t realize at the time because I’d been overprotected when growing up. I still had bad memories of Chad.
“I’m Wylie Dixon.” I extended my hand for a friendly shake.
He willingly accepted it and held it between his. “You’re a writer?” He phrased it as a question. Well, sort of.
“I am,” I confirmed, attempting to draw my hand back. He didn’t let it go. How could I feel so vulnerable and isolated when there were literally hundreds of people milling about at the rooftop bar? It shouldn’t have been possible.
“What do you write?” he asked, either not noticing my nervousness or not caring.
“Science fiction romance.”
He made a face. “That’s okay, I guess.”
His response grated. “Well, thanks for that.” I managed to pull my hand away, finally, but it took more effort than I was anticipating. “I should be getting back.” I took a big step to my left, so big I almost fell, but he moved in front of me to cut off my escape angle.
“What’s your hurry?”
“The event only lasts another hour,” I replied. “I’m supposed to be talking to the readers. I signed a contract and stuff.” Surely, he couldn’t argue with that.
“Well, how about this?” he practically purred as he leaned in closer. “How about I walk you home after the event? Then we can get to know one another.”
That wasn’t going to happen, although it did bring up an interesting question. How did he even know I was going to walk home? Rather than ask that, I sent a desperate look back toward the table, hoping Bree or Bella would recognize I was struggling and come help me. I didn’t see them, though.
Who I did see was Huxley. He stood near the table I’d been at before heading to the bar, nodding politely as a woman went on and on about something he was clearly uninterested in. He wasn’t looking at her, though. He was looking at me.
I only had a moment to think. I hated Huxley, after all. I wasn’t afraid of him, though, and for some reason Chad made my skin crawl. Before I realized what I was going to do, I raised my hand and started waving. It wasn’t just any wave. It was a full-fledged panic wave.
Huxley didn’t even hesitate before starting in my direction.
He offered some sort of noncommittal apology to the woman he’d been talking to and then beelined toward me, his shoulders squared.
He looked like a gladiator about to do battle.
Or maybe that was my teenage hormones roaring to the surface yet again.
Either way, he was coming, and I’d never been so happy to see anybody in my life.