by K. A. Linde
Maya handed her the drink, and Bryna promptly downed it as quickly as she could. She shuddered as the mint-flavored vodka martini set fire to her throat.
“Whoa! Take it easy. You have all night,” Maya chastised her.
“Keep them coming,” Bryna instructed.
“That’s what she said,” Stacia said with a giggle. She sidled up to Bryna at the bar, wearing a sapphire backless romper that tied around her neck. “Can I get something fruity?”
“Sure, sweets.” Maya poured both of the drinks at once. “What about you, Trihni?”
Trihn shrugged. “The usual.”
“You’re looking particularly grungy today,” Maya complimented her.
Trihn was decked out in a black leather skirt with a black sequined tank and studded combat boots. She had bangles on both wrists, almost up to her elbows, and onyx studs in her ears. Her makeup was especially heavy tonight.
Trihn ignored the comment, but when Neal appeared at her side, the reason for her extra effort became clear. He was cut and tall with shaggy brown hair and the same arsty look as Trihn. They looked like a matched set. It made Bryna sick.
“So, are you two officially dating now, or what?” Bryna asked. She reached for her second drink and guzzled it as if it was water and she had run a marathon.
“Bri, geez,” Trihn said in exasperation.
“Just curious.”
Bryna knew Trihn hated talking about her relationship. She was super private about it, and it made no sense. Bryna and Stacia were completely open about theirs. What did Trihn have to hide?
“Are you and Andrew?” Trihn shot back.
“Oh my God, no! We’re not even dating. This has to stop!”
She couldn’t handle this anymore. How many times would I have to say that Andrew and me aren’t dating before people fucking figured it out? They were fucking around, and that was all. She was going to have to prove a point tonight.
Bryna finished her drink and left it with Maya before abandoning her friends and heading straight to the dance floor. She danced with the first hot football player she could get her hands on. There was no Andrew in her life. At this point, he didn’t fucking exist to her. Her head was full of vodka, and she was riding the wave on a surfboard.
After a few songs, Bryna had forgotten the faces of the different guys she had danced with. Someone had bought her a drink, something fruity that tasted like shit. She’d also miraculously done a round of shots with a group of people, but she couldn’t remember what it was. She was wonderfully tipsy with her arms around a guy whom she strained to put a name to. All she knew was that he was cute, on the football team, and decidedly not Andrew.
His lips landed on hers, aggressive but sloppy. She ignored her own disgust and returned the kiss with vigor. Suddenly, she was wrenched back from the guy. She stumbled backward into another girl who cussed her out. Bryna didn’t even bother apologizing.
Her eyes adjusted to what was going on. Andrew was all up in the guy’s face, yelling profanities and holding his fist up as if he planned to punch him right then and there.
“Andrew, stop!” she shrieked, grabbing his arm.
“What the fuck, Bri? What is going on? Why did you have your tongue down this guy’s throat?”
“We’re not even dating. I can do whatever I want,” she slurred.
“You’re fucking joking, right?”
“No, I’m not.”
“We’ve been fucking exclusively for over a month. What more do you want?”
“Who said we’re exclusive?” she asked condescendingly.
“Well, have you fucked anyone else?” His eyes dared her to respond.
“Do you really want me to answer that?” she asked. She hadn’t actually been with anyone else since she hadn’t gotten that far with Hugh. But she had given a blow job earlier this week. Did that count?
“Fuck!” Andrew yelled. “Who is it? I’ll fucking kill him.”
“Get over yourself. This was supposed to be fun, Andrew, and now, you’re making a scene. It’s not fun anymore.”
Andrew angrily shook his head and threw his arms out in frustration. “Sorry, I misunderstood. Enjoy your fucking night.”
He stormed off, leaving her in the middle of the dance floor. All eyes were on her, and she felt their judgment from all sides. Fuck, I’m so over this. She needed another drink to stop thinking about her self-sabotage.
She made it back to the bar. Trihn was still with Neal talking to Maya. Both girls had concern in their eyes when Bryna returned.
“Another martini, Maya,” Bryna said.
“Maybe you should slow down.” Trihn lightly touched Bryna’s arm. “What happened out there?”
“Pay attention,” Bryna snapped. “Andrew and I aren’t together.”
“There you are, Bri!” Stacia cried. “I saw that shit on the dance floor. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I have no feelings for Andrew. I’m never going to have feelings for anyone ever again.”
“But he has feelings for you,” Trihn said. “It was kind of a bitch move to make out with someone else instead of just breaking up with him.”
“We’re not dating though!” Bryna rolled her eyes. A bitch move. Great. “Isn’t that what everyone expects from me anyway? How is this any different?”
She was letting the alcohol and anger get the best of her, and she didn’t even care. It was like every bit of emotion she had bottled up in the past eight months came rushing back to her all at once. She couldn’t control it. She just rode the emotions like a train barreling off the tracks.
“We’re trying to help,” Trihn said. “You’re kind of self-destructing.”
Bryna shrugged unapologetically. “This is who I am. I’m the queen bitch. I accept my crown and title. Take it, or leave it. I’ve never pretended to be anyone else, and I never will.”
She walked back to the dance floor to try to find someone else to buy her another drink. She had made a circuit on the floor when a hand on her shoulder stopped her in place.
“That was an interesting show.”
Ugh! Pace.
“Fuck off. I have no reason to be around you, and I might turn homicidal if you remain in my presence.”
“Oh, sis, you’re such a sweet talker,” he crooned.
Bryna reared back and slapped him clear across the face. His head jerked to the side. The sound ricocheted through the room. Her hand tingled from where she had hit him, and he roughly grabbed her wrist before she could walk away.
Pace bore down upon her as he laughed at the exchange. Despite that, she saw the unbridled anger in his eyes. He was furious with what had happened, and he looked like he was ready to take it out on her.
“Let me go!” she yelled.
“I don’t think I will.”
“Get the fuck off my campus, away from my friends and family, and out of my fucking life, you sick, twisted pervert!” she spat. She wobbled from the alcohol, and she knew her words hadn’t come out completely right. But she didn’t care.
“Okay,” Pace agreed.
Bryna warily looked at him. Even drunk and sloppy, she knew that wasn’t the right response. “Okay? Just like that?”
Pace gave her an once-over. “I’ll leave and I won’t come to LV State.”
“What’s the catch?”
He smiled. “It’s really simple. I only want one thing.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And what’s that?”
“You. For one night.”
“Oh my God,” she cried, shaking her head. “Are you demented?”
He pulled her in really close, and she recoiled.
“We’re not related, as you keep telling everyone, and anyway, I know you want me. Can’t you feel all the sexual tension?” He ran his hand along her jaw.
She slapped it away. “There’s no tension between us. Zero!”
“Let me have your body tonight, and then you can go back to doing whatever you want.”
“Fucking
you is quite possibly the last thing I want to do in this lifetime. I’m drunk, Pace, not a completely different person, and I would need to be someone else to even consider something that repulsive.”
“And I thought you wanted LV State to yourself.”
“And I thought you claimed not to want me. I always knew that was a fucking lie. You want me and my life and my family. You’ll never get that. You’ll never have me! Stay the fuck away from me.” She yanked her hand out of his grasp and stumbled backward.
She got lost in the crowd, letting the sea of people direct her movements. She was more furious than ever. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she pushed them back. She needed to drink more and forget all this shit. She wanted to black out and wake up tomorrow to find her picture-perfect life was all back in order, not lying on the floor in a scattered mess.
The angrier she got, the more the memories flooded her conscious. She remembered the devastating weeks after Jude had walked out of her life. As hard as her exterior was, she had turned into a zombie after he wrecked her. He’d entered her life, full of love, passion, and complete understanding. Then, several months later, after she had lost everything but her immense love for him, he had torn her apart. Even though she had still been the queen bee at school during the last few months, in her despair, nothing else had ever really mattered to her.
Now, the depression was settling back over her like a familiar dark cloak.
So, she danced with anyone and everyone as seductively as she could. She noticed another commotion with Andrew, who seemed pissed that she was dancing with another football player, but she avoided it. She couldn’t deal with that tonight. Andrew didn’t have anything to mend a battered, broken heart.
She felt like her walls were fracturing, and only immeasurable stress could crack the ice queen.
One of the guys brought her more shots, and she tipped them back without tasting them. Another pair of lips descended on hers. She let the intoxication muddle her mind. She didn’t care anymore.
When she pulled back from the kiss, the guy backed up in surprise.
What is his name?
“Mind if I talk with Bryna for a minute?” Eric asked over her shoulder.
“Sure, man.” The guy was already dancing with another girl.
“What the fuck, Eric?”
He sighed dramatically. “Can I talk to you? In private?”
“You already turned me down. Haven’t you done enough? I’m not your type. Trust me, I know all about your type,” she slurred.
“I’m sure. But no, that’s not why. Let’s just go talk, Bri.”
“Didn’t anyone tell you, only my friends call me that?”
“Well, you won’t have any if you don’t get moving and chill out. I’m doing you a favor.”
“I don’t need your fucking favors.” Bryna slipped forward and landed against his chest. Instead of laughing, she felt a tear trickle out of her eyes. Good God! She needed to get it together. She wiped the tear away with the back of her hand.
“All right, drunkie. I didn’t want to have to do this.” Eric slipped his hand under her knees and picked her up as if she were as light as a feather.
“Eric!” she cried. “Put me down!”
But he wasn’t listening as he carried her through the crowd and outside to the mostly empty patio. The pool was closed, but there was still water in it. It was a chilly night, and goose bumps broke out on her skin, but the coldness seemed to immediately clear her head.
Eric lightly dropped her onto a lounge chair. “You should be glad I didn’t throw you into the pool.”
“Fuck you!”
“I’m pretty sure you gave the impression that you wanted to do that with everyone else in the room tonight,” Eric told her.
“Who cares? I’m that girl, right?”
He ran a hand back through his hair as if he couldn’t believe he was dealing with this right now. “I was starting to think otherwise,” he admitted.
“What?” she asked, honestly surprised.
“But you’re proving that wrong tonight.”
“I don’t have to prove anything to you. Stop meddling in my life. I can do whatever I want.”
He threw his arms out at her. “By all means, keep fucking up your life. You’re not only hurting all the people you care about. You’re hurting yourself, too, even though you seem to have little regard for yourself.”
“What does it matter to you who I’m hurting? You’ve been nothing but an antagonistic asshole since I got here. I don’t know what this knight-in-shining-armor routine is, but you can drop the fucking act.”
“It’s not an act! Andrew is my friend, and while I repeatedly told him he was too good for you, he wouldn’t listen. So, you’ve fucked with my friend by being exactly the person I warned him about. What is your problem?”
“My problem?” she shouted back at him. “You have no clue. You just judge me. Don’t feel bad for me. I’m fine. It doesn’t matter that my father won’t spend time with me or that my stepbrother simultaneously wants to fuck me and ruin my life,” she cried.
Eric stiffened at those words and clenched his fists.
“Forget the fact that I get looked down upon when my fuck buddy decides to get outrageously clingy, and I do something about it because I’m a bitch, right? I’m just a slutty cheerleader!”
“Bryna,” Eric interjected.
“Let’s not forget the part where I have a judgmental asshole yelling in my face because I hurt his friend’s feelings. I made it fucking clear to Andrew that we were just fucking around. I’m not interested in long-term anything. In fact, I’m not interested in feeling at all.” Her eyes were hard and unwavering. “So, you can tell him that he fucking did this to himself.”
Eric shifted uncomfortably.
She hadn’t meant to spew everything that had been bothering her tonight, but it had all come out. The alcohol had been a part of it, but it had also felt good to unload on someone—even if it was Eric Wilkins.
“Look, you and Andrew are with each other all the time, giving the impression that you are together,” he said as if that made it right.
“Whether I gave that impression or not, I said countless times that we weren’t going to be in a relationship, and he refused to listen. That isn’t my fault. I’m sorry, but he dug himself into a hole, and now, he’s boohooing that I don’t want to be exclusive. I might be that girl, but I’m honest about it.”
“Well, I’ve always known you to be blunt with me,” Eric said dryly.
“Anyway, if he had a problem with me, he should have been man enough to be out here, voicing his own opinion. He shouldn’t have sent a lackey to do it for him.”
“He didn’t send me. I was concerned,” Eric admitted. “I saw you talking to your stepbrother, and things looked tense. After that, you seemed to spiral more and more out of control.”
Concerned? Eric was concerned? Yeah, right. And pigs could fly.
“Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine. No need to hover and stick your nose in other people’s business,” she said, flipping her blonde hair off her shoulders.
“Fuck. You’ve been pissy since you came to school. Sorry that I was fucking worried about you.”
“Don’t be! I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
“Clearly,” Eric drawled. He sounded unconvinced. Considering he had carried her drunk ass outside, maybe he had a reason.
“Run along, Cowboy,” she taunted, not listening to her own subconscious. “I have a few more people to piss off before this miserable fucking weekend is complete.”
Eric shook his head in both disgust and pity. He mumbled something under his breath and then walked away. He made it to the door before turning back to her. “You know, you draw people in with your larger-than-life personality”—he sighed—“and then you kill them with it, too.”
Bryna glared at him. “This is just who I am.”
“I’m starting to think even you don’t know who that person i
s.”
A COUPLE OF WEEKS LATER, Bryna was packing for the trip to L.A. for the big USC game. Life had been such a blur since homecoming. Her friends acted as if her big meltdown at Posse never happened, but Andrew had been avoiding her at all costs. She missed having him around—or at least having someone around since she hadn’t heard from Hugh at all. Even though she had been swamped with cheer and the end of the semester, all she could think about was whether or not her plan with Hugh was an utter failure.
The doorbell pulled her from her thoughts. She scrubbed her hands over her eyes and jogged downstairs. She wrenched open the door.
“Hey,” she said to the deliveryman.
“Package for Bri. Is that you?”
“The one and only.”
“Sign here.”
She scrawled her name on the line and took a small box from him. After what the last package had contained, she couldn’t control her excitement as she tore into the wrapping. When she saw the label, she bit her lip in delight.
AGENT PROVOCATEUR.
Inside was a black strappy bra and thong set, plus the garter belt and stockings. It even contained the matching black leather paddle. Her heart fluttered. She had always been a La Perla girl, but Agent Provocateur was overtly sexual and suited her very nature—especially around Hugh, who she assumed had sent the gift. However, there was no card.
Without a second thought, she grabbed her phone and dialed his number.
“Hugh Westercamp.”
“Hey,” she breathed lightly into the phone.
“Bri.” He sounded happy to hear from her.
“Where and when do I get to wear my present?”
Hugh laughed. “It’s good to hear you got it. Straight to the point.”
“Always.”
“Well, I’ll be in town in two weeks. Pack a bag. I think, this time, you won’t be leaving.”
Two weeks later, a limo showed up at Bryna’s condo. She had her Louis Vuitton luggage packed and had gotten an excuse to miss cheer for that night even though it was the week before the conference championship game in San Francisco.
After clinching the division, Bryna had suffered through her Thanksgiving holiday. Celia had tried too hard to make Thanksgiving perfect. Her father had seemed to hover over her more than usual, as if it wasn’t bad enough that he had married her. Pace had proceeded to constantly annoy the shit out of Bryna while talking about attending LV State in the spring. The only people who hadn’t bugged her were Celia’s youngest children, the twins, and it was because they hadn’t said anything.
