Anything to Have You

by Paige Harbison

I was supposed to be immune to him. If I wasn’t, then I was just like every other girl.

  I didn’t even know he was at the party until he sidled up. He had a glass—most people had plastic cups—holding what I assumed was whiskey on the rocks. That’s another thing. If you knew Wild Reed, you knew that he was drinking whiskey. Not only in favor of other liquors, but in general. If he wasn’t, it was an off day.

  I locked eyes with him, suddenly feeling like the people around me were not nearly as interesting as before.

  “Happy New Year’s, Skinny.”

  Oh, yeah, that’s the other thing. Skinny. Since day one, that’s what he’s called me. On many occasions he’s grabbed me somewhere on my hip or ass and told me I needed to fatten up and that I looked like shit. It occurred to me once a long time ago that there was actually a good chance that he didn’t know my real name.

  He was really a charmer.

  “You look like a fucking waiter.” I sipped champagne from my solo cup, surveying his black pants and white shirt. I dropped my gaze to the hand he was extending to me. It held an actual glass of champagne.

  “And you’re looking a little trashy—wanna switch to crystal?”

  I wet my lips and narrowed my eyes before setting down my cup and taking the glass. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  Then he just fucking looked at me. Like, not saying anything. What was I supposed to do with that?

  “What?”

  He shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “Nothing. How was your past year?”

  “Great. Thanks for asking.”

  “Now you’re supposed to ask about mine.”

  “I don’t really care about yours.”

  “Don’t be a bitch, I brought you a glass of champagne.”

  “Yeah, that’s a huge accomplishment on New Year’s Eve.”

  “You didn’t manage it.”

  True. Shit. “I didn’t care all that much. What are you even doing here? How did you get invited?”

  “Sam’s my best friend. Thanks for the shock, though.”

  Oops.

  “I thought you were crashing, as you are so wont to do.”

  “Well, I’m not. In fact, you are, more than I am.”

  “Hey, I was invited, thank you very much.”

  “On Facebook?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

  My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

  “I told him to invite you. So you’re welcome for the invite. I think ‘thank you’ was what you meant. You really have terrible manners for such a snob.”

  Oh, the embarrassment of realizing I was only at the party because of freaking Reed.

  “Well, it’s a very nice party.”

  He nodded, looking smug. I wanted to hit him.

  “It is a nice party. There’s a couple having sex in one of the bedrooms and everything.”

  “Ah, great.” I nodded and took another sip.

  “Want to copy them?”

  I choked a little on the bubbles. Once I cleared my throat, hand on my chest, I said, “First of all, I never copy anyone. And second, you’re disgusting.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I hear.” He gave me that crocodile grin, and got distracted by a pretty girl. “I’ll talk to you later, Skinny.”

  The feeling I got then was weird, unexpected and completely offensive to the not-idiotic part of my brain. I was jealous.

  Of whoever that porn-star-blonde girl was, whose dress had been short enough or tight enough or whatever to divert his attention from me. Bitch.

  And then I was alone. I hadn’t even realized the others had drifted away.

  Wellll...this just got embarrassing.

  I collected myself, feeling weird and stupid, and found Alexa. Thank God she was with a panel of guys. One of them might even have been the one just talking to me earlier. I was barely paying attention.

  A small while later, we all gathered to watch the ball drop on a big projector screen that had previously been playing music videos. Then the countdown started.

  10. Alexa and I cheers’d our champagnes, mine glass and envied, hers plastic.

  9.

  8.

  7. I dabbed my bottom lip to make sure I wasn’t spilling.

  6.

  5.

  4. I realized the midnight kiss was coming, and I didn’t have anyone.

  3.

  2. I realized I wasn’t thinking about Aiden, I was thinking about...

  1. Reed put his hand on my waist, pulled me into him almost too forcibly—but not quite. My lips tingled from the champagne, his were warm from the whiskey, and before I knew what was happening, I was kissing him back harder than I have ever kissed anyone. Like, we should have been in private. It was not classy.

  His hands were in the right places—my hip bone, then my lower back, the other in my hair and on my neck and jaw. I bit his lip, and he kissed me harder before biting back—not as hard as I had.

  My legs seemed to fill with the bubbles from the champagne. I suddenly wanted him to throw me against the wall and do whatever he wanted.

  But instead, he kissed me once more and then pulled away. “Happy New Year’s, beautiful. I’m outta here.” He winked at me, that stupid smile on his face, and walked out of the crowd, down the steps and away from the party.

  Gahhhhd. That was my only thought.

  I turned to see Alexa, doe-eyed and smiling in shock at me.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked, my fingers gravitating to my lips.

  She shook her head, eyebrows still raised. “I was going to ask you!”

  We had invited the other girls to stay in our hotel with us, but they had all found guys to hook up with and sleep uncomfortably on a floor with, so just the two of us left not long after midnight.

  Alexa and I talked about the Reed kiss from the time we left, all prettied up, to when we were in the hotel room in glasses, tank tops and boyshorts. I knew I could trust her not to tattle on me, but of course I was beginning to wonder who else had seen. Because if someone had, I couldn’t explain why I had kissed him back like we were on a plane about to crash. I wouldn’t be able to explain that to Aiden, Natalie or even myself.

  Of course, I found myself asking Alexa what she thought it meant. Did he like me? Was he into me at least? Was he being an asshole? Had he won—or lost—a bet? There was no telling. The only thing I knew was that I had annoyingly not hated it. Or...to be more honest with myself, I had fucking adored it in a way I never had before.

  The only thing we were able to come away with was that he was just being Reed. Manwhore that he was. Player. He liked to fuck with people. He liked to acquire people. He was basically me.

  And that is the last person in the world that I would ever allow myself to be into.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Day of the Stupid Cupid Rager

  “STOP.”

  “Stop what, Brooke? I’m merely asking you if you can maybe not flirt with a bunch of dudes tonight.”

  “You’re saying that like I’m some kind of huge slut.”

  “No, I’m saying it like you’re Brooke.”

  I gaped at Aiden. “What in the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “What, does it offend you that I called you by your name?”

  “Um, it does when you’re basically telling me I’m a whore, and acting like my name is like...fucking...whatever the word is.”

  “Synonymous.”

  I took in a deep breath. “Jesus, yes, whatever.”

  He paused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Brooke.”
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  “No, it’s fine, I’m so glad you chose to pick a fight with me tonight, though, thanks. This party will be really fucking fun.”

  He shook his head as we turned onto Natalie’s street.

  “Don’t shake your head at me.”

  He looked over to me. “Really, Brooke?”

  I gritted my teeth. This was how it had been with Aiden lately. Nonstop arguing. Over nothing. Absolutely nothing!

  “Look, Natalie’s coming out tonight, I know you’re pumped about that. I didn’t mean to pick a fight with you. I don’t want tonight to go south, that’s all. I want to have fun, too. And you know I never do when you’re flirting with a bunch of guys.”

  “I’m never flirting with a bunch of guys.”

  “You know what I mean.” He parked. Natalie was sitting outside.

  “I do not.”

  “Lately you’ve been doing it more, and I don’t know why.”

  I shrugged. “Me neither.”

  Natalie opened the back door and climbed in, suspending Aiden’s and my conversation and setting the tense tone that I knew would stay with us for the rest of the evening, whether we liked it or not.

  I was better at faking it than he was. I was capable of acting like nothing was wrong. But Aiden would stew and be mad, and the only time he acted like he was all right after that was once he had stopped caring. This was not a good thing. It meant that he cared less about fixing it, not that he cared less about whatever the problem was. It wasn’t long into the party that it became obvious he didn’t feel like patching things up with me.

  Because I am my own worst enemy, I went out of my way to do some shots, become the life of the party and flirt with Justin. Drunk, this seemed like a perfectly fine plan! I knew it would get Aiden’s attention, and of course it did.

  “Brooke, what the fuck?”

  “What?”

  And the next thing I knew, he was talking to me again. Drunkenly, this seemed like a victory.

  “You can’t keep doing this shit, Brooke.”

  “You are so fucking controlling!”

  He pulled me away from the many listening ears.

  “No, I’m not. I’m your boyfriend. You can’t keep doing this, and you can’t keep doing it to me. Do you know how you make me look when you do this?”

  “So that’s the point, is it? How you’re coming off to other people? Not because it makes you feel bad—just ’cuz you’re embarrassed?” I was giving him the nastiest snarl.

  “Do you want to make me feel like shit? You are, don’t worry.”

  “I’m sorry, baby...I didn’t mean—”

  “I’m reaching the end of my rope, Brooke. No. You know, I have reached it. That happened a long fucking time ago. I really don’t think I can keep doing this.”

  “No, no, please, babe, I’m sorry. Fuck,” I muttered. “I was just trying to get your attention. I don’t know why I did it like that. I’m so sorry.”

  “You’re always sorry. I should record you sometime and crop together all your apologies so you can hear how many you say in any given week.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m—” I started to apologize again.

  “Look. We won’t decide anything now. We’ve both been drinking. We’ll just...we’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

  “Aiden, you know I hate having this kind of thing held over my head.”

  “What do you want me to say, Brooke? I can’t make you feel better about this. And I don’t owe you that. We have this talk now, and you know how it ends. Or we talk tomorrow and try to deal with it. Up to you.”

  I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Tomorrow, then.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  And he walked away from me.

  I resisted the urge to immediately succumb to tears. As I knew she would, Natalie came over.

  “You okay?”

  * * *

  AIDEN AVOIDED ME for the rest of the night. It infuriated me to hear him having fun in the basement while I sat upstairs talking to girlfriends and trying not to feel like shit. I didn’t even want to talk to Natalie, really. She had a way of making me feel the full measure of guilt that I’m due. And right now that wasn’t going to help.

  I was actually surprised at how well she was holding up on her own. On one hand, I was glad everyone liked her. But on the other, annoyingly childish hand, it made me feel like old news. She was the new hot thing. All of my guy friends were asking about her or trying to talk to her. I felt irrelevant. I wasn’t worth hitting on, because I was with Aiden. Either they wouldn’t hit on me because they knew I was taken, because they liked Aiden too much, or because they were too busy kissing Natalie’s ass.

  Earlier in the night, when she had been talking to a group of guys, I’d had the stupid stab of jealousy that had driven me to start flirting with Justin to begin with. I wasn’t even that attracted to him. But I knew he’d flirt with me. I knew it would make Aiden talk to me again. And—and this was where it got really twisted—I thought Reed might notice me flirting with his cousin and pay me some attention.

  But no. Even Reed, piggish Reed, wasn’t paying attention to me.

  I ended up alone. I wanted to cry. And I wanted to talk to Natalie. So I walked downstairs. And to make all matters worse, Natalie was making out with Eric Hornby, the best-looking guy in our class besides Aiden.

  Like. What the fuck.

  So...I was completely irrelevant. I had no boyfriend, probably, no one lusting after me, and now everyone with a penis wanted to bang my best friend. Fucking fantastic.

  I went back upstairs. Almost everyone was asleep, and I was wide awake. I poured myself a double shot and downed it. Maybe it would help me pass out.

  “Hey, Skinny.”

  Reed was shirtless and walking toward me.

  Maybe it wasn’t too late for a little attention, after all.

  “Hey, asshole,” I said, but my heart wasn’t in it.

  “What’s up with you?” He could tell.

  “I’m never going to fall asleep.”

  “I have something that’ll help.”

  I raised an eyebrow. Finally. Someone at least making a sexual joke in my direction.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah, hold on.” He ran back down the hall to whatever room he was staying in, and then returned with a small pill. “Xanax. Put it under your tongue and you’ll be asleep in no time, love.”

  He smacked me on the ass, took the bottle of Kentucky Gentleman from the counter and left again.

  So he had some girl back there. I really was all alone.

  I wandered over to the couch where Alexa had passed out and lay down on the other end of it. I put the Xanax under my tongue and let it calm me into sleep.

  It was possibly the most pathetic moment in my whole life.

  * * *

  WHEN WE DROPPED off Natalie the next morning, I had been sure that the second we were alone, Aiden would dump me. I was eager now to get it over with.

  “So...do you want to talk about last night?” I asked when he didn’t say anything about it.

  “What about last night?”

  He flushed.

  “What do you mean, what about last night? The horrible fight we had?”

  “Right. Don’t worry about it. We were drunk.”

  I stared at his profile. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. It doesn’t matter. You didn’t mean anything by it, you were drunk. Shit happens.”

  This was completely unlike him. But I wasn’t going to push him. “All right, then...”

  The rest of the ride was utterly silent. No radio or anything. He kept looking like he wanted to say something, but then saying nothing. I kept wanting to ask, but then also saying nothing. So I just stared out the window
.

  * * *

  OVER THE NEXT weeks, things stayed kind of tense and awkward between us. He was busy, so we didn’t see each other all that often. I had been sure that he would use my birthday as an opportunity to try to make up. To get back on track to being Us again.

  “Whoa, Brooke!” exclaimed Natalie, who had just opened my locker for me. “What the hell?”

  “What? What the fuck...”

  “Why is there a bottle of liquor in your locker?”

  “I have no idea. Whaaaat...wait.” I knew exactly who it was from. Only one person would do it. My heart jumped a little at the sight of the note. What would Reed say?

  Happy birthday, let’s see how much you can handle.

  “Holy crap,” said Natalie, “do you have a secret admirer?”

  “I guess. That’s really weird.” I tried to deflect. “Maybe Aiden...?”

  “Aiden would never risk getting you in trouble like that.”

  “No, no, you’re probably right.” Of course she was right.

  “Then...any idea who it is?”

  “Lotta people like drinking and a lotta people like me, Nattie.” I didn’t know why I didn’t want to tell her anything about Reed. It was embarrassing that I had this stupid crush on him. And I knew she’d get all preachy about Aiden again, anyway.

  “Well. At least you know it’s a guy. No girl has handwriting that bad.”

  “Truth. Uh. Well, I should go to class.”

  * * *

  NEXT THING I knew, I was blowing off my boyfriend—the one I had just been so desperate to fix things with—for the opportunity to see what might happen with Reed.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I HONESTLY CAN’T say what possessed me to do it. Except maybe the memory of the kiss on New Year’s. But whatever it was, the second I saw the bottle in my locker, and knew who it was from...it shook me.

  I’d been getting ready for dinner with Aiden, a dinner that I knew would be expensive and delicious, and fun if he was in a good mood. I had just put on my mascara, the last step of my makeup, when I looked at myself. In a pink dress. Perfect pink lips. I stared at myself for a long moment, and it was as if my reflection made the next move. I sent a text. My nerves went through the roof as I waited for the answer. It wasn’t five minutes before I got it and sent my reply.