Come Back To Me (20 page)

said. He shoots me an apologetic shrug, but I’m not about

to let it go.

‘No. I’m serious,’ I press. ‘What do you mean? You

don’t think I’m good enough for her?’

Riley slaps me on the shoulder trying to be all buddy-

buddy. ‘She’s eighteen. And she’s probably never had a

boyfriend before. She doesn’t need some major player

fucking with her and then dropping her when the next

piece of ass comes along.’

‘Nice,’ I say. ‘You think that’s what I’d do?’

Riley looks at me like he doesn’t get why I’m so mad at

him. ‘That’s what you always do. You’ve never had a

girlfriend before, Kit. I’m just telling it like it is.’

‘A guy can change,’ I say, grinding my teeth. ‘What if I

told you I’m dating someone and that I really like her?’

Riley laughs at me like I just cracked a hilarious joke.

‘If you really liked her you wouldn’t be here tonight

making out with Didi. That’s exactly what I’m talking

about, bro.’

‘It wasn’t my idea to be Didi’s date. It was your girl-

friend’s. I was doing her and Jessa a favour. I’m not into

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Didi. And we weren’t making out.’ I don’t care if I’m

blowing our cover − I’m so mad I can hardly see straight.

‘Yeah? Not what it looked like,’ Riley smirks. ‘And she

definitely looks like she’s into you.’

‘It’s not what you think.’ For a moment I almost come

clean and tell him the truth but his words are still smart-

ing. Fuck him. Riley’s my best friend, but right now I

don’t want to be anywhere near him.

‘I’m going to check out the DJ,’ I tell him. ‘Maybe you

could find Jessa. I think she’d like to spend some time

with her brother while he’s back. She misses you.’ With

that parting shot I leave. He claims I wouldn’t make a

good boyfriend, but he’s not exactly winning any prizes

in the brother stakes.

I head back inside, my fists clenched with anger, my

jaw tight. I told Riley to look for Jessa because I’m too

mad to speak to anyone right now. I don’t want to ruin

her prom. I already acted like a possessive jerk. Problem

was I just couldn’t help it when I saw that guy looking at

her like he wanted to dip her in hot sauce and eat her. I’ve

never felt such a wave of possessiveness like that before

about anyone. I probably shouldn’t have introduced

myself as her boyfriend, but what the hell else was I

going to do? Let him flirt with her in front of me? Fuck.

I hate this. I hate this pretending. And I hate Riley for

making me question whether I’m good enough for his

sister. I think about what my dad said, about telling him

and her father. It’s easy for him to say.

I head through the press on the dance floor, my feet

carrying me towards the double doors that lead to the

stairs and down to the lobby. I just want some quiet.

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Mila Gray

There are couples making out like we’re in some seedy

lap-dancing club and a pile of sticky vomit on the stairs,

so I head the other way towards the emergency exit.

This stairwell is blissfully free of both vomit and

people. I figure I’ll just head to the ground floor and take

a quick walk to get my shit together before I head back

inside, but halfway down the stairs I run slap bang into

another couple making out with the kind of abandon that

suggests they’ve forgotten they’re in a public place. Was

my prom like this? I don’t remember. I was too busy get-

ting laid in the back of my truck. With my head down I

creep past them as silently as possible, but just as I pass

them I hear the girl whimper. I whip back around.

The guy has her pressed against the wall, her dress is

rucked up, and I can see her underwear. The guy is hold-

ing her around the waist with one arm and tackling his

belt with the other.

‘Get off,’ the girl mumbles.

‘Oh, come on,’ the guy slurs. ‘Why else did you invite

me?’

‘I said stop,’ the girl says again, her voice infused with

fear.

That does it for me. I grab the guy by the back of the

collar and haul him off her, hurling him against the hand-

rail. I grab a handful of his shirt and hold him in place,

half hanging over the stairwell.

‘She told you to stop,’ I growl.

The guy holds up both hands. ‘I wasn’t doing any-

thing,’ he says.

Out of the corner of my eye I see his hand form a fist

and come flying towards me. I duck his punch, still

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keeping hold of him, and throw him against the wall, my

fist slamming into his gut.

He folds over instantly. The guy looks like a football

player but his instincts are dulled by liquor. He stumbles

forward then tries to rush me. I stick my leg out and trip

him, then follow through with a right hook to his jaw. He

crumples to the ground and starts moaning. This is just

one of the reasons I don’t drink, I think to myself wryly.

I’ve never touched a drop of alcohol in my life, other than

a beer when I was fourteen. I made a vow to myself after

seeing my dad almost drink himself to death that I

wouldn’t ever follow in his footsteps, and in situations

like this I’m doubly grateful.

I turn to the girl, take her hand and pull her up a few

steps, out of his way.

‘Thank you,’ she says.

I turn to her for the first time. She’s pulling the sleeve

of her dress back up and wiping away tears, her mascara

smudged down her face.

‘You’re welcome,’ I say, running my eyes down her

dress to see if it was torn or if she’s bleeding. She looks

OK, just a little drunk and a little shaken up. ‘You want

me to show you back upstairs?’ I ask.

She smiles at me and nods, and we start heading back

upstairs. I shoot one last look at the guy to make sure he

isn’t planning on a sneak attack, but he’s now rolled onto

his side and is clutching his stomach, looking like he’s

about to vomit.

‘I’m Serena, by the way,’ the girl says to me as I open

the door for her.

‘Kit,’ I say.

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Mila Gray

‘Thanks, Kit,’ she says, pausing, then kissing me on the

cheek.

‘Yeah,’ I say, wondering at how quickly she’s moved

from crying to flirting. ‘No problem.’

‘There you are!’

I look up. It’s Jessa. She’s walking towards me and I

can tell by the puzzled look on her face that she just saw

Serena kissing me. Crap.

‘Hey, Serena,’ she says with a frosty smile.

‘Hi, Jessa,’ Serena says, looking from one to the other

and figuring it out. ‘Oh, is this your date?’

‘Yes,’ Jessa says firmly, coming to stand by me.

Serena smiles at her a little ruefully. ‘You got a good

one, Jessa, hold on to him,’ she says.

Jessa’s mouth does this cute little pout and her brow

furrows with confusion as she watches Serena walk away.

‘What was that about?’ I ask her.

‘What was what about?’ she asks, turning to face me.

‘Were you jealous?’ I ask, trying not to laugh.

Jessa’s cheeks flush. ‘I just saw you walk out of a stair-

well with Serena Riddell, the girl voted most likely to

become a porn star, and watched her kiss you on the

cheek.’

‘You
are
jealous,’ I say, laughing. ‘It’s very hot, by the

way. Keep it up.’

‘What were you doing?’ she asks, still pouting.

‘I was going for some air and I ran into your friend

Serena—’

‘She’s not my friend,’ Jessa mumbles.

‘—being mauled by some guy in the stairwell.’

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‘Oh my God.’ Jessa’s hand flies to her mouth. ‘What

did you do?’

‘I punched him.’

‘You punched him?’

‘Would you rather I let him rape her?’

Jessa stares at me, her expression morphing into right-

eous indignation. ‘I hope you punched him in the balls.’

I smile at her. ‘He won’t be walking for a while,’ I say.

Jessa smiles at me – a smile that makes all my anger

about Riley evaporate in an instant. Her eyes are strik-

ingly green, made more so by the blue of the dress, and

right now she’s looking at me in a way that makes me feel

like I’m more than good enough.

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Jessa

It’s around midnight when Didi bounces up to me and

announces there’s an after-party at Serena’s house. Riley,

who, to give him credit, has made an effort in the last four

hours to at least look like he’s having fun, shakes his

head.

‘I have to go. Jo’s waiting.’

‘Well,’ Didi says, sliding her arm through his. ‘Thank

you so much for being my date.’

Riley looks down at her with a bemused expression on

his face. ‘
Your
date?’ he asks.

Didi hiccups. How much punch did she have? ‘I mean,

Jessa’s date. Obviously Jessa’s date.’

I press my heel into her foot to shut her up.

‘Are you going to go to this party?’ Riley asks Kit in a

pointed way.

Kit looks at me. ‘Um, I don’t know. I could drive them

there. At least I’m sober.’

‘That would be awesome,’ I say, grinning at him,

though I have no intention of going to a party at Serena’s

house.

Riley glares at Kit but then kisses me goodbye and

heads off.

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‘Are you two really coming?’ Didi asks. ‘You don’t

have to, you know. I can get a ride with Stephanie. She’s

leaving now.’

‘I’m supposed to be staying at yours tonight,’ I remind

her.

‘I’m sure you’ll figure something out,’ Didi says,

grinning at me.

Kit takes my hand without a word and leads me down

the stairs to the lobby. I think maybe we’re going to head

outside and grab a taxi, head somewhere like the beach,

but instead he walks brazenly up to the reception desk. In

his suit, with his dark hair and perfectly sculpted body,

he looks like a model in a Dior aftershave advertisement,

and I let him pull me along, getting a brief thrill from the

looks and the murmurs we’re attracting from my school

friends waiting for taxis in the lobby as they see us pass.

‘Can I help you?’ the perfectly made-up girl behind the

desk asks.

‘Your best suite, please,’ Kit says.

‘What?’ I almost shriek. I pull on his arm. ‘What are

you doing?’ I hiss.

He turns away from the receptionist. ‘I’m getting us a

room.’

‘What?’

Before I can stop him he’s pulling out his wallet and

slapping a card down on the counter. I grab it before the

girl can. ‘That’s ridiculous. It’s like a thousand dollars a

night here.’

‘It’s three thousand five hundred dollars a night for the

Presidential Suite,’ the girl says with a tight, smug smile.

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I make an
I told you so
face
.

‘You’re worth it,’ he responds, grabbing for his card.

I hold it behind my back and pull him away from the

desk. ‘Kit,’ I whisper, ‘I’m not letting you spend that on a

hotel room.’

‘Why not?’ he asks.

‘Because.’ I take a breath. ‘If you spend that much on a

room I feel like you’ll expect something . . . ’ I look away. I

don’t know how to explain it. It’s not that I don’t want to

have sex with him. I do. It’s just that I hadn’t planned on

it being tonight.

‘Woah, Jessa.’ Kit takes my face in his hands and tips

my head up so he can look me in the eyes. The expression

on his face is deadly serious. ‘That’s not what I intended.

If all we do is spend the night watching comedy channel

reruns, I’ll be happy. I just want to hang out with you. We

have a whole night, for once.’

I look back at him, trying to read if that’s the full truth.

‘I promise you.’ He kisses me on the tip of my nose.

‘I’m fine with just mentally undressing you,’ he whispers.

I smack him on the arm. ‘Who says it has to be

mental?’ I say, pulling him back to the counter.

I convince Kit not to get the Presidential Suite − we don’t

need a living room and salon, after all − but the woman

behind the desk upgrades us to a Deluxe Suite with a sly

wink, and when we open the door to the room we both

turn to stare at each other before Kit sweeps me up into

his arms, kicks the door shut with his foot and carries me

over to the enormous bed.

He lays me down gently before standing up to pull off

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his tie and jacket. He folds them over the back of the chair