“Well,” said Remy, appearing at my side.
I grabbed her Coke and took a swig to wash down the strong flavor of whiskey.
“No more for me,” I said. I tried to hand her drink back, but Remy was chewing her lip and staring over my shoulder. I spun, blinking at the dizzy spell it caused. And then my eyes cleared and I saw Rylen and Linette now sitting together on a loveseat. He sat, staring down at a drink in his hands, his legs spread, nodding at something she was saying. But it was Linette’s body language that made my skin crawl.
She was turned toward him, one elbow on the back of the seat, one leg tucked under herself and the other leg crossed, touching his knee.
“She’s going for him, Amber.”
“They’re probably just talking about the run,” I said defensively. “He told me he’s not ready for anything.” But my heart raced erratically. I couldn’t lose him again. I couldn’t live with another regret like that. And even if they hooked up, and it was meaningless, I would still throw up every day forever.
The music suddenly changed from hip-hop to a Cuban Salsa tune that had me raising my head. I found Tater making a beeline for me. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the open area in the middle of the room. Tater wanted to dance? I couldn’t believe it! I put my drink down and gave him my full attention.
In that moment, my worries about Rylen fell away as the music swirled all around me, the tune grabbing me by the hips and lifting my chin with its seductive finger. This was the sound of my childhood, my family, my life.
Tater grabbed my hand and spun me in a double spin. I resisted the urge to throw back my head, keeping my body tight and posture perfect as Mom had taught me. A crowd gathered around us, and everyone began clapping. Tater stole the show, as always. He could whip his limbs precisely and swivel his hips to perfection, like something off a dance show. But with the alcohol loosening me up, I gave him a run for his money, even making him laugh with my bolder-than-usual moves.
Dad always said we were Mom’s best pupils. To see Tater like this again filled me with hope and gratefulness. In that hidden room, in the middle of the forsaken wintry desert, in the midst of a war against extra-fucking-terestrials, I felt a moment of joy.
It was our best dance ever. Mom and Abuela would have been proud, and Dad would have been highly entertained. At the end, we hugged while everyone cheered, and I glanced over to see Rylen watching from across the room, a small smile on his lips and heat in his cloudy eyes. Linette nudged his arm. Once. Then twice, until he blinked and held up a pointer finger to say “Give me a minute.”
I glanced up at Tater as the song changed back to hip-hop, and it was like the candle inside of him suddenly snuffed out.
“Hey.” I grabbed his arm. “Thanks. That was fun.”
“Yeah.” But his voice was sullen again, and he left me to go stand by the wall. My heart sank. I looked toward Rylen and my heart sank deeper when I saw he had given his attention back to chatty Linette.
The three drinks were like fire in my system now, everything inside of me blazing with life. This was supposed to be our night to hang out, and Linette knew exactly what she was doing. Remy was right—she was going for it. And so was I.
Matt grabbed Remy, pulling her onto the dance floor where others began to pile on, shaking hips and lifting arms, letting loose in a way none of us had for many months. The air filled with excitement.
I made my way through the crowd, saying hi to New York Josh and a few other guys who stood nearby, and then stopping to stand between Rylen’s feet.
“Hey, look,” Linette said. “It’s your little sister.”
My claws came out.
“I’m not his sister.” I felt ashamed for rising to her taunt, but the three drinks had crushed my filter. I looked at Rylen, whose eyes were lit with . . . something. He leaned forward, making Linette scoot out of his way.
“You okay?” he asked, peering up at me. There was something in his voice. I couldn’t place it. I wanted to believe it was hope. Hope that I would spirit him away from her.
“Dance with me?” I said. My heart gave a hard thump.
His shoulders fell a little. “You know I don’t dance.”
Linette’s body shook with a laugh. Ignore her.
“I know,” I said. I reached down and took his hand, which he held firmly. I tried to tug, but he had a hard grip. What was in his eyes now? Embarrassment? I couldn’t read him and it was driving me nuts.
He began saying, “Can’t we just—” when Josh was suddenly at my side, nudging me with his elbow.
“This chump ain’t gonna dance with you? Come on, girl. I got this.”
Rylen’s jaw locked and his face hardened as Josh led me away. But halfway to the dance floor a country song came on and Josh said, “Aw, hell no.” He led me to the bar instead.
My buzzing blood was prickling my senses. I didn’t know how to feel, or what exactly had happened back there, but I felt the sting of rejection. Again.
“Two Jacks,” Josh told Devon.
“And another rum and Coke,” I said. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew, but rebellion was upon me, and I was too weak in my current state to control it. If Rylen was going to choose to sit with her all night, or whatever was going on between them, I wanted to be numb. I didn’t want to hurt.
Josh handed me a shot. “Bottoms up.” We both took it and I barely winced that time. I chased it with a sip of cold, sweet, bubbly rum and Coke.
“You know,” Josh told me. “Fite ain’t the only guy here.” He held out his palms, like just saying.
“I know.” I chewed the inside of my lip and stared down at my drink.
He was right, of course, but Rylen had always been the only guy for me. No matter how attractive Josh and the other guys were, or how much I enjoyed their company, my heart called out for Rylen’s. Even now, I could feel his presence from half the room away, and if he left I would feel the loss.
I was halfway through my drink when the country song ended and something harder came on with a wicked rock beat. Josh grabbed my hand and led me out. Before his body pressed to mine, my gaze snagged with Rylen’s. He wore that same hard expression as he watched us, leaning forward, his hands dangling in a clasp. Josh’s hands firmly took my waist and pulled my hips to his.
“Who you dancing with, Amber?” he asked in a gravelly voice, his accent thicker after a few drinks. “Me or him?”
I ripped my eyes away from Rylen and focused on Josh. In that moment, the full force of my alcohol intake hit me, and I leaned all my weight on him. How many had I had? An angry sort of righteousness rose up, telling me fuck it—you deserve to be drunk and pissed off all you want. So I paused and chugged the rest of my drink before tossing the cup to the nearest table.
I let the music lead me, arms up, body swaying, pressing against Josh’s toned soldier body. He had the moves of a guy who’d spent plenty of nights clubbing. I knew if I let him, he would take good care of me. But I couldn’t help it; I took another glance toward Rylen. Linette had his face in her hand, as if forcing him to look at her, and she was saying something, looking into his eyes. He closed his eyes and took her wrist, pulling her hand down from his face. But he didn’t scoot away from where her leg was pressed against his. It was like a war raged inside of him.
I spun my body and pressed my ass against Josh’s front, raising my arm to drape across the back of his neck.
“You trying to kill me?” he said in a low voice into my ear as we moved in sync.
I turned back around and wound both my arms around his neck, but he kept his face slightly turned aside. His body was totally into this, but I could see on his face he was holding back. I rubbed the back of his head and watched as his eyes closed, clearly enjoying my touch. For a moment everything blurred and I forgot where I was and who I was with.
Suddenly a warm, strong hand was on my shoulder, giving me a tug away from the warm, masculine body of Josh. I felt like I peeled away from him in slow motion to see Rylen�
�s livid face looking down at me.
“‘Bout time, asshole,” Josh muttered, walking away. Rylen let the remark go.
“I think you’re done,” he said to me. “I’ll take you to your room.”
I scoffed. “Really, Dad? And, wow, I thought you and Linette were superglued together. Hope it didn’t hurt too bad when you tore yourself away.”
His jaw rocked. “We were talking.”
“And touching,” I reminded him. “She was touching you.”
He stepped closer. “What’s it to you, Pepper?”
His words were a slap to the face. I opened my mouth to say who-knows-what, when I heard Remy’s loud voice carry through the music. She was arguing with Linette.
“Oh, no.” I pushed away from Rylen and was horrified when I tried to go forward and instead veered to the left, falling into a table before righting myself and moving in the correct direction. I bumped every person and piece of furniture along the way, wondering when it got so damn crowded in here.
“Oh, look,” said Linette as I made my stumbling approach. “Here she is now.”
Remy’s cheeks were dark pink against her blond hair.
“What’s going on?” I asked. Or, that’s what I meant to say, but it came out sounding gummy. Linette laughed and Remy sort of cringed.
“God, how many did you have?” Linette asked. “Save some for the rest of us. Although, it is nice to see that you’re not so perfect after all.”
“Neither of us think we’re perfect,” Remy said. “Stop saying that!”
“Right.” Linette swung her chin to get hair out of her eyes. “The beauty queen and the over-achiever, pretending to be oblivious of every man sniffing around their virginal crotches.”
Remy’s mouth opened in a gasp and I said, “We’re not even virgins. Stop judging and worry about your own damn self.”
Remy looked at me funny, and panic hit me square in the chest. What had I just said? This conversation had veered very wrong at some point. I’m thinking it was the point when I opened my mouth.
“Wait.” Remy’s attention was fully on me now. “We’re not . . . ?” She glanced at Linette and said, “Never mind.”
“Oh. My. God.” Linette said, a half-smile playing on her smug face. “Did you—” she pointed to Remy, “—think she was a virgin?” She pointed to me. “But you’re not? Wow, Tate, that’s low. Best friend fail.”
Remy’s face. My stomach. I’d never told her. I’d never told anyone about that awful night with Ken.
“Shut up,” I told Linette, moving to get in her face.
“That’s enough, Lin.” Rylen’s voice boomed right behind me as he grasped my waist to keep me from getting to her. Linette’s eyes rose to him, hardening.
“Stop babying her, Fite.”
“It’s none of your fucking business,” he said.
Linette put her hands up and huffed a laugh through her nose. “Yep. I’m done. Have fun with that.” She inclined her head toward me before sauntering away with her chin up. Rylen let me go.
Everything blurred as Remy turned on me. I knew Rylen was still behind me. I couldn’t have this conversation.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I put a hand on the nearest table to steady myself.
“Of course you don’t,” Remy said. “You never want to talk to me, or anyone else, about anything of actual importance.” Her eyes were full of hurt and anger, which bounced around inside of me before seeping in.
“What the hell’s going on over here?” Tater asked. I couldn’t do this right now.
“I’m getting another drink.” I staggered away from them.
“Hey, Amber Tate!” A soldier held up a hand and I high-fived him on my second try. All along the way to the bar people greeted me with smiles. They weren’t angry at me. They treated me nice. But still I felt like shit, and I wanted it all to go away. I sucked at life.
“Pepper.” His voice came from behind me, filling me with a stubborn frustration.
I made it to the bar and Devon grinned. “One more, baby girl?”
“A shot,” I said. “I don’t care what it is.”
“Amber.” Rylen was right next to me now. I didn’t look at him, but his presence wrapped around me.
Devon slid the shot forward. This one was clear.
“Don’t do it.” Rylen’s plea near my ear sounded more like a warning. All I could see was Linette up against him, garnering his complete attention this entire night.
I shot it back. It tasted like rubbing alcohol, making my stomach roll. I closed my eyes and slowly opened them.
“Uh-oh,” Devon said. “One too many?”
“I’m good.” At least, that’s what I thought I said. And when I gave a big thumbs up, teetering sideways, he laughed a little too hard.
“Come on,” Rylen said.
I stepped closer and peered up at him. “Gonna dance with me now?”
“No.”
He took my hand and I blindly followed until we were out in the hall and I realized he was making me leave. I came to a halt like a donkey digging my heels in. “Not goin’ bed.”
“Amber, come on. Yes, you are.”
I faced him with my hands on my hips. “Don’t you . . . don’t try to . . .” What the hell was I trying to say? It didn’t matter, because next thing I knew Rylen swept me up into his arms like a big baby and started marching down the hall. I swung my legs, ready to throw a fit until I heard his gentle voice saying, “Sh. It’s all right. Relax, Pepper, I got you.”
I lay my head on his shoulder and barely registered the gentle bouncing of his steps up the stairs and down our hall. A minute later I felt him touch my butt, pulling my key from my back pocket. He kicked the door closed behind us and set me on the bed. I started to snuggle down, then shot to my feet, disoriented, as I remembered this bedtime was being forced upon me. I stumbled toward the wall. He caught me by the middle of my shirt, holding the material in his fist, and walked me backward until I was against the wall.
“Relax,” he said. “You’re all right.”
Our aloneness tightened around me like a bubble of hyperawareness.
“Ry,” I whispered. My hands went to his biceps, warm and solid. He closed his eyes and opened them again slowly.
“You’ve probably said enough for tonight,” he whispered back.
He was trying to shush me. I shook my head, and it was like slow motion, as if I my skull were rocking back and forth on a ship.
“I’ve lot mores to say.” I could hear the slur in my words, the ridiculousness of my lack of control, but I focused on Rylen’s pursed, full lips and a sensation of desire overrode the amusement.
He let go of my shirt and put his hands loosely on his hips. “You need to go to bed.”
“No.” I poked him in the hard chest and leaned forward too fast. I pressed both palms to his chest to balance myself. “God, Rylen” I said, feeling the contours of his pecs and watching my hands as I explored. It took a great deal of effort to lift my heavy head and look into his tired eyes. The comfort of that bluish gray tint was something I wanted to nestle down into. I rose up on my toes and moved my face close to his. So close, I could feel his breaths against my own lips.
“Pepper.” Rylen took both my hands from his chest and brought them back down to my sides, putting me firmly back on my feet.
“I love you,” I said softly.
“I love you, too.” His voice was that of a man trying to appease a child. “Now, let’s get you to bed.”
“Don’t,” I said too loudly. I pulled away from his grip and brought my hands up to his neck. This time when I looked at him I felt him soften under my touch. I rose up on my toes again, touching our noses, and he wrenched his face to the side.
“Pepper, seriously.”
“Please,” I begged.
He took my arms and brought them down again, this time holding my wrists at my sides. God, he made me so mad!
“You . . .” I searched my addled brain. “Yo
u’re a . . .”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
“You’re a clit tease!” I shouted.
His eyebrows flew up and then he chuckled deeply. His mouth went to my ear as he pressed me into the wall and said, “I assure you, I’m not.” A shiver made me press my pelvis upward toward his. His own hips jolted backward at the touch and he hissed my name in warning. “Amber . . .”
“Kiss me,” I breathed.
He pulled back, and his face was guarded. “You’re drunker than I thought.”
I flung his hands from my wrists, feeling frustrated as the weight of years’ worth of emotions pressed down on me. I was sick and tired of not being taken seriously by this man.
“Stop trea’ing me like a kid.”
He sighed and dropped his head, as if dealing with me was exhausting. But I couldn’t stop. I had so much to say. Damn the slur in my voice. Damn my jelly legs that made me unable to stand straight.
“You don’ know,” I said. “I don’t know how you don’t know. How I . . . I love you, with all my heart.” I fought to make each word distinguishable. I had to get this out. It came rushing to the surface like a messy, muddy flood, and I couldn’t hold it back any longer.
“I loved you since I was, like, thirteen. And not like a sister, Ry. Do you hear me?” I clutched his shirt. He lifted his chin enough to eye me. “Not like a sister,” I reiterated. The words were so important. Monumental. Life changing.
“Pepper.” He spoke with care. “You’re drunk.”
I clenched my fists in his shirt and screamed through my teeth. His eyes bulged and I dove into the pool of emotions again. “I tried telling you! But every time . . .” I panted, breathing erratically. “You never believed me! Or you . . . you jus’ . . . you play it off ‘cause you’re too nice. But you ha’ to listen this time.” I shook his shirt. “I want you.” I tilted to the side and pressed myself back against the wall. “And I’s fuckin’brokenheartedwhenyoumarriedher. I feel . . .” I sucked in a breath, trying to hold back tears. “I feel . . . guilty ‘cause I wanted you when you were married.” My eyes fluttered closed, and when my lids felt heavy I blinked them back open with an intake of air.
Unrest Page 17