Page 42 of Secret Obsession
At one point, I had asked Knox if I could wear his. He… well, he changed the subject. Or he kissed me, which was essentially the same thing.
How often he did that only became apparent after he broke up with me. Then, it was like all the little bits of failure between us were shaken to the top of my memory.
And man, did it make me feel like an idiot when I realized.
“Fishnets?” Aspen eyes my legs.
I smile. I already put on the fishnet stockings, then slipped baggy exercise shorts over them. Similarly, I’m wearing a front-lacing corset under my t-shirt. Always save the tight dress for the last moment. Especially when dealing with powder makeup.
“What’s up?” I ask them.
“We’re bringing you to the game.” Aspen grins.
I snort. “No, you’re not. I’m going dancing.”
“You can dance after,” Violet argues. “Come on, we’ll go dance with you—”
“You both are going to get laid after the game,” I interrupt. “And once upon a time, I would’ve, too. But that was last semester, and I’m not going to hook up with some random guy.”
I plant my hands on my hips.
“Besides,” I continue, “whose house are you partying at after the game? The hockey house where Knox lives?”And Miles, I silently add. “Or Haven, where I think both of you have been cornered in the freaking bathroom? That place is basically cursed.”
Maybe Ishouldgo to Haven. I can watch the game from afar, get blackout drunk, and be in a lovely mood by the time they arrive.Ifthey arrive. And if they don’t, I’ll come home alone.
Violet’s face falls. “I hate that this is so hard on you—”
“I knew what I was getting into with him. It was Knox Whiteshaw, of course I was going to end up getting burned.”
I shouldn’t have hooked up with him. But that was when Violet was out on medical leave, and Greyson was the new guy on campus. There was fresh energy wrapped up in the sport, even more than previous years. And Knox is known for his charm.
Damn it if he didn’t make me a sucker with it.
“Okay,” Aspen says. “If you’re sure…”
“Text me if you guys are gonna go to Haven.” I reach out and take their hands. “And thanks for trying.”
Violet rolls her eyes, but she pulls me into a hug. “Love you.”
“I love you, too,” I mutter in her ear.
Love and I are currently fighting—but for her, of course I’d say it. And mean it.
“Now go on, before you’re late.” I shoo them out and close my apartment door behind them. I deflate a little.
But then I force myself to straighten. To smile. I go back to the bathroom and practice a few different variations of that smile in the mirror. I put the metal straw in my mouth and practice my seductive bedroom eyes, blinking slowly as I finish my drink.
I’m floating, and I’ve actually convinced myself I’ll have a decent time, when I’m ready to walk out the door. And I don’t so much walk asglideall the way to Haven. I hang my jacket in the coatroom, keeping my wristlet with me.
The bar is crowded, the lighting dark. The game is being broadcast on the screens around the room, and it seems like everywhere I look, there’s blue and silver and white.
Most people think the silver and white are interchangeable, but they’re not. Blue andsilverare our school colors. But their away jerseys are white with bands of silver and blue. Maybe that’s where the confusion comes from. Or the fact that silver isn’t that easy to find when you’re buying t-shirts, unless you buy the expensive, branded CPU stuff.
I scout the bar, which seems to have clusters of groups, then stride around it and slip onto a free stool. A bartender, an alumni, swings by and takes my order.
“Put it on my tab,” a guy says over my shoulder. “And I’ll take another.”
I glance up at the football player. Not someone I knew through Jack, Violet’s asshole ex-boyfriend. Actually, I can’t say I know this guy’s name at all. His face is familiar, though.
