Until Now

by Rebecca Phillips

  “Oh, so now you want to act friendly?” he asked, mistaking my attempt to hide for a sudden burst of affection. I didn’t set him straight.

  “I need a drink refill.” I took off toward the bar, not caring if any of them followed me. I just wanted to get away from the dance area and Nicole’s eagle eye.

  “What’s with you?” Cody asked when he caught up with me at the bar. “Your boyfriend just walk in or something?”

  “No, just his sister,” I muttered.

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing.” I extracted another twenty from my bra and leaned against the surface of the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention. Cody fell in beside me, eyeing the twenty dollar bill in my hand like he was jealous of where it had been.

  “So you changed your mind, huh?” he said after we’d finally ordered. “About the whole ‘off-limits’ bullshit you tried to sell me?”

  The bartender slammed our drinks on the bar and I grabbed mine, immediately fitting the straw between my teeth. “I didn’t try to sell you anything,” I said as we shoved away from the bar, drinks held protectively to avoid spillage. “And I didn’t change my mind either.”

  His fingers closed around my arm and he turned me until we were facing each other. “Why are you here then?”

  I blinked up at him. He was taller than Ryan, and wider, but his formidable size didn’t make me feel any safer. If anything, it made me feel more exposed. “To dance,” I replied, because I didn’t want to tell him the real reason I’d come here tonight—to forget.

  “Well,” he said, then guzzled the rest of his beer like a frat boy. “Let’s dance then.” He glanced around us like he was checking for witnesses too, then hooked an arm around my waist and started steering me toward the dance floor area. I dug in my heels and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, stopping him.

  “Wait,” I said, my gaze flicking toward the dancers. Nicole and Mariah were likely still out there. “I want to finish my drink first.”

  He looked down at my hand, still knotted in his shirt, and smiled. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  I quickly let go and shifted away from his arm. His expression darkened and he moved in close again, his fingers trailing down my side. There was a wall of people behind me, blocking me from escaping, so I did the only thing I could do in that moment—I gulped down my drink as fast as I could and said, “Okay, let’s go.”

  As we shouldered our way to the dance area, my eyes darted all around, landing on face after glistening face, but I couldn’t spot Nicole and Mariah anywhere. They could have been at the bar, or in the bathroom, due back any minute. But right now they were nowhere in sight, which made the dance floor the safest place to be.

  My body relaxed and let the vodka take over, and after a while I lost all sense of time. Abby was there at one point and then disappeared again. Songs blended into each other, becoming one long, never-ending beat. Cody’s voice was close in my ear, murmuring things he wanted to do to me, and with me, and where. As he spoke, images of Ryan flashed through my head, intrusive and vivid and consuming. And suddenly, the spicy scent of Cody’s cologne—combined with the mist of beer and sweat surrounding us—hit my nostrils all at once, making my stomach churn.

  “Let go of me,” I said, twisting myself free. I pushed through the mob, searching for an opening, desperate for a gulp of fresh air. And water. I needed water.

  “Hey.” Cody caught up to me at the edge of the dance floor and seized my arm, pulling me the rest of the way out. He stopped in the first vacant spot we came across and scowled down at me, his eyes blazing. “You can’t keep walking away from me like that,” he said in a low voice.

  I ripped my arm from his grasp and glared right back at him. “I can do whatever I want. I don’t owe you a damn thing.”

  “Yeah? Well, I disagree.” He reached for me again but then froze, suddenly distracted by something behind me. I watched his eyes grow wide, and for one crazy moment I thought it was Nicole back there, ready to rupture my spleen. I turned around slowly, bracing myself, and before I even had time to register what was happening, my face, my hair, and the entire front of my dress was dripping with sticky, freezing cold liquid.

  I gasped and staggered back into Cody. He stepped away from me quickly, his gaze locked on the pretty dark-haired girl in front of us. A girl whose murderous expression and now-empty glass told me that she was the reason I was now covered in vodka and orange juice.

  “What the fuck, Cody?” the girl screamed. She flung one arm out toward me, almost clipping me in the chin. “I go outside for twenty fucking minutes and you’re all over this whore?”

  Like most women, I didn’t take kindly to being called a whore, especially by someone I’d never seen before in my life. Fueled by vodka and the fact that I had a piece of pulp in my eye, I instinctively lunged toward her. Cody snapped out of his shock just in time to stick his arm out in front of me, holding me back. I realized then that he was dripping too, though I’d gotten the worst of it.

  “Calm down,” he told the girl, who I’d ascertained was his girlfriend. Even with the sickly sweet smell of cheap orange juice in my nose, her perfume was easy to recognize. The same perfume that had been all over Cody’s shirt at Abby’s party a couple of months ago.

  My stomach rolled again. I’d been “the other woman” a couple of times before, unknowingly, in high school. It made me feel like an asshole then, and it made me feel like an even bigger asshole now.

  “Calm down?” the girl shrilled. “You want me to calm down? You son of a bitch.” She threw her empty glass at him and he ducked, causing it to sail over his head and hit some guy behind us before shattering on the floor. The growing mass of people who’d gathered around us, hoping for a girl fight, started cheering.

  “Kiara, baby, please just listen to me,” Cody said, approaching her gingerly like she was a rabid animal about to attack. “I didn’t even do anything with her. I swear. It’s not what it looks like.”

  Even I wanted to roll my eyes at that line. It didn’t fly with Kiara either. She threw herself toward Cody but was immediately yanked back by a tall, burly guy dressed in black who’d seemed to materialize out of nowhere. A bouncer. The crowd around us quickly dispersed.

  “You, you, and you,” the bouncer yelled, pointing to Cody, Kiara, and me. “Get out.”

  Kiara wriggled out of the bouncer’s grip, her eyes still on her boyfriend, who wouldn’t return her gaze. “I’m leaving,” she said. “I’m done.”

  She stormed off toward the door, chin held high. Cody trailed after her, calling her name, while I stayed back with Mr. Bouncer and inspected the damage. The front of my white dress was soaked and stained orange, wet strings of hair hung in my face, and my skin was coated with a sticky film of juice. “Can I at least go to the bathroom first?” I asked.

  The bouncer glowered at me. “Out, before I call the cops and have them remove you.”

  “Okay, okay, I’m going.”

  Still suspicious, he escorted me to the door and watched me leave, making my humiliation complete. I’d never been kicked out of a club before. Then again, I’d only recently started going to them.

  Cody and his girlfriend had moved their argument to the sidewalk outside. I hung back by the club entrance, trying to figure out some way to leave without them seeing me, but it was no use. The door shut behind me with a bang, and they both turned toward the noise. When Kiara saw me, she left Cody and walked toward me, her lip curled in disgust.

  I braced myself for the second time, expecting another assault, but all she did was look at me and say, “I don’t know what kind of lies he told you, or what you believe, but take it from someone who’s put up with his shit for two years straight—the guy is a fucking loser. He had to drop out of college because he was high every day, he can’t hold a job, he’s a serial cheater, and he lives with his parents. You’re welcome to him, sweetie.”

  She swivelled around and kept walking, leaving Cody and me and Fusion behind without
a backward glance. At some point during the night it had started to rain, and for once there wasn’t a line-up of people outside, waiting to get in the club. It was just me, several smokers who’d braved the weather for their nicotine rush, and a very distressed Cody.

  “Fuck,” he growled as he watched Kiara get away. “Fuck.”

  He’d said the exact same thing, in that exact same way, when we were in Abby’s bathroom together and a text came in on his phone, interrupting us. Kiara was the “situation” he’d had to diffuse that night, obviously. Now, knowing he tried to hook up with me not only that night but several other nights as well—including tonight, at a club he’d gone to with his girlfriend—I couldn’t believe I’d ever considered seducing him once upon a time.

  Or maybe I could believe it. He may have been a loser, but I wasn’t much better.

  I stepped out into the rain and started walking, even though I had no idea where I was going or how I was getting home, and I’d left without telling Abby, and I was definitely too drunk to be wandering around the city alone. But I didn’t care. I wanted out of here now.

  Unfortunately, I only made it a few steps before Cody appeared in front of me, forcing me to stop.

  “Let me explain,” he said.

  I laughed and swiped some rain off my face. At least I was getting clean. “Seriously?”

  “Come on,” he said, moving closer to me. “Kiara’s overreacting. It’s not like we ever had sex or anything. Almost doesn’t count.”

  I shot him the dirtiest look I could muster and sidestepped around him, failing to notice the jagged crack in the sidewalk in front of me. The pointy heel of my shoe got snagged in it, making me stumble and fall into Cody. It was then, as he slipped his arms around my waist to steady me, that I glanced up and saw Ryan.

  He was crossing the rain-slicked street toward me, wearing the same clothes he’d had on at the bookstore earlier this evening. And his face…the expression on it was a sickening mixture of disbelief, disappointment, and barely-contained fury. I’d never seen him like this, even when he spoke about his ex-wife driving drunk with Mason in the car.

  “Ryan?” I said, half wondering if he was an alcohol-induced hallucination. I shook out of Cody’s grasp and stepped toward him, but the look in his eyes stopped me from getting too close. His irises were chips of ice, hard and cold. “What are you doing here? How did you know where I was?”

  His gaze shifted, taking in my stained dress, tangled hair, and makeup-streaked face before settling just to the right of my shoulder, where I assumed Cody still stood. “Nicole,” he said, eyes fastening on mine again. “She dropped by my apartment a while ago and told me you were here. And that it wasn’t the first time she’s seen you.” He glanced at Cody again, and I heard his unsaid words: With him.

  I closed my eyes. Nicole. She’d kept her mouth shut the first time, either for me or for Ryan or for some other reason altogether, but twice had been too much. And I couldn’t blame her.

  “She didn’t want me to come,” Ryan went on. Rain trickled onto his T-shirt, darkening the fabric. “But I had to. I needed to see it for myself.”

  “Ryan.” I couldn’t stand the way he was looking at me, his face radiating disgust and shock. I loved surprising him, but not like this. Still, what could I say right now to defend myself? It’s not what it looks like? He’d never believe that old excuse, even though—at the moment, at least—it was true.

  “Who’s this dude?” Cody asked, the muscles in his forearms constricting as he clenched his fists. Like he was getting ready to protect me. From Ryan. I felt like I was stuck in some bizarre nightmare.

  Ryan crossed his arms, undaunted, his attention still focused on me. “Is this what you want?” he asked. The harsh, challenging edge in his voice warned me that his question was rhetorical. That the idea of me wanting this, the idea of him wanting a woman who lied and drank too much and got kicked out of clubs, was too ridiculous to require an actual answer. He’d already gone through it once with Chelsea; he wasn’t going to accept the same shit from me.

  Chelsea. The vodka had done its job—I’d forgotten, or at least repressed, the fact that he was seeing her tomorrow. But now, standing here on the sidewalk in the rain with his familiar face in front of me, the image of them together rushed back with a bolt of fresh pain. No, I almost told him. This isn’t what I want. This life used to be good enough, at one point, but I don’t want it anymore. I want you.

  But the words died on my tongue. The set of his shoulders and the tense, rigid way he carried himself, like he was struggling for self-control, told me he wouldn’t be very receptive to anything I had to say.

  “Okay,” Ryan said, his tone as cold as his eyes. “At least I know where you stand now.”

  Panic choked me. He didn’t know where I stood, or what I wanted, because I couldn’t seem to find the words to tell him. I could barely even admit my feelings for him to myself. That was the problem. And I had no idea how to fix it.

  “No,” I said, finally finding my voice. I wiped my face with my fingers, blending rain and tears together in one cohesive smear, and took a step toward him. “I know it looks bad, but please…just let me explain.”

  “No need.” His icy gaze fell on Cody again, but this time it lingered. “I think I get it.”

  Beside me, Cody puffed out even more, his temper piqued. I sensed his next move before he even made it, and I threw myself in front of him without even thinking about it first, preventing him from moving toward Ryan. “Don’t!” I screamed at him. “Don’t you fucking touch him.”

  Cody backed off, and a few seconds later I felt a vibration in my hand, followed by a slow, steady throbbing. I’d shoved him, I realized. I’d pushed against his hard chest with my hand and almost broke my damn wrist in the process.

  Only vaguely aware of the pain—and the small audience of smokers who’d emerged from the protective overhang to watch the drama—I swung back around to look at Ryan. But all I saw was the back of him as he walked away. Not away from Cody, who wasn’t even worth the effort of a punch in the face, but away from me. Like Kiara, he was done.

  Numb, I stood there on the sidewalk and let the rain sluice down my body, rinsing away what was left of the stickiness. Cody backed away even further, absently rubbing the spot on his chest where my hand had connected. “Crazy bitch,” he snarled at me before walking away too.

  Unable to stand upright any longer, I tottered back over to Fusion and lowered myself to the ground a few feet from the door, my back against the rough brick wall. Minutes or hours later, some girl took pity on me and called me a taxi on her phone, then gave me a couple of bills to cover the fare. I may have thanked her.

  By the time I arrived back at the Brogans’, I was both drenched and exhausted. And still a little drunk, apparently. On the way up to my room, my heel got caught in one of the stair runners and I pitched forward, landing painfully on my right knee. Cursing, I slowly flipped around and sat down on the stairs, my head dipping toward my lap. Fuck it, I thought. I’ll sleep here.

  “Robin?”

  I felt a hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently. I cracked open my eyes and peered through the damp web of hair that had plastered itself to my face. Emma stood a couple of steps below me, her eyes wide with fear. “Hi, Em,” I whispered, in case she thought I was dying. The poor kid had obviously never come across a drunk person passed out on the stairs in the middle of the night before.

  “Should I get Lynn?” she asked.

  “No,” I said quickly. Or it might have been five minutes later, I wasn’t sure. “Just help me up.”

  She bent down, tucking her arm through mine, and that was my last cognizant memory before waking up the next morning to more shaking, but this time it was much less gentle.

  “How you feeling?” Taylor asked. There was no trace of concern in her words…just angry, unforgiving disappointment. She sat down on the edge of the bed, jostling me. “Emma told me what happened last night. Or should I say this mo
rning, since it was three a.m. when you woke her up and scared the hell out of her. She told Dad, too. And Lynn.”

  My head pounded like someone had stuck it in a vise grip and squeezed. I pressed my face into the pillow, avoiding both the sunlight streaming in through the window and my best friend’s wrath. But she wasn’t fazed by my obvious suffering.

  “They’re downstairs discussing whether they should ask you to leave,” she went on, merciless. “Lynn said you’ve already had one warning. She didn’t tell me because she thought you should.” She stood up and looked down at me, her eyes glossy with hurt. “But I guess trusting my best friend to be honest with me was a stupid mistake on my part.”

  “Taylor…” I said, lifting my hand toward her. But it was too late. She’d already left the room, not bothering to shut the door behind her.

  I stayed in bed for a moment, trying to keep perfectly still as the events of the past twelve or so hours swirled around in my head, making it throb even more. My stomach joined the fun soon after, and I scrambled out of bed and across the hall to the bathroom, making it without a second to spare.

  Chapter 25

  When I ventured downstairs an hour later for coffee, I found the three of them—Taylor, her dad, and her stepmom—all sitting around the kitchen table, waiting for me. Here we go, I thought, pausing in the doorway. Reckoning time.

  “Get your coffee and sit down,” Lynn said, unsmiling. Shit. This could not be good.

  I obeyed, taking the seat between my best friend, who still looked like she wanted to kill me, and Steven, who just seemed uncomfortable. He didn’t like confrontation.

  “We discussed it,” Lynn said, curling a hand around her coffee mug. “And we’ve decided that you can keep staying here. But,” she added before I could open my mouth to thank them. “We’re giving you a deadline.”