Page 30 of Backlash

“But you learned your lesson.”

“Yep.” I take a drink, realizing that the lesson I’d forgotten was that beer tastes gross. I smile at him over the rim of my Solo cup. “So, not into sports.”

“I’m more of a thinker. I’m going into engineering.”

“Cool.” I pray that this doesn’t trigger a conversation about engineering, because I know nothing about it and I’m interested even less.

“What are you majoring in?”

Well, that subject is nearly as bad. “Right now? Nothing. I took a semester off.”

“Right on.”

“I’m coming back in January, though,” I say quickly. “I think I’ll major in English.”

“Cool.”

I guess he doesn’t know much about my preferred field, either. We linger for a moment in awkward silence before a new song starts in the living room.

“Want to dance?” he asks, just as I spot Sterling’s brooding face behind him.

“Yes!” I abandon my beer on the counter and grab his hand.

I drag Jeremy toward the unofficial dance floor. So, it’s not my finest moment, but a girl can’t be held accountable when the guy who broke her heart is a few feet away, especially if said heart is still in pieces. Plus, Jeremy seems like a nice guy and I’m determined not to let Sterling’s presence ruin my night.

Jeremy suffers from the typical male problem of mistaking grinding for dancing, but since I want to make it clear I’m not waiting around on Sterling, it works out in the end. The crowded room is sticky from so many bodies being packed so tightly into the small space. After a few minutes, I feel Jeremy’s hands on my hips. I lean into it, letting my body take over. I lose track of the number of songs we dance to. At least Jeremy has stamina. His hands turn me around so my back is against his body. Then his arms wrap around my waist, holding me closer to him, and I realize that stamina isn’t the only thing he has—he’s also got an erection. I wiggle, trying to put a little distance between us. The message he’s sending is coming through loud and clear. It’s time to send a response.

I must be responding too subtly, because instead of giving me space, he yanks me back again, pressing himself harder against my butt.

I pull away, pushing sweaty strands of hair out of my eyes. “Maybe we should go outside. It’s hot in here.”

“No, that’s just you,” he says, his eyes hooded. He reaches for me and pulls me back into his arms. “Let’s keep dancing.”

“I really need air.” How much clearer can I be?

“In a minute.” His face angles down, and I realize a second too late that he’s aiming for my lips. They close over mine, and my palms flatten against his chest, shoving him. He breaks away and turns confused eyes on me.

“Stop!”

“Fine,” he says, grinning like this is all a misunderstanding. “We’ll keep dancing.” The hands on my hips tighten their hold on me.

“I need to find my friends.” I look around, squirming against his hold, hoping that I’ll spot Poppy or Kai in the crowd. I’d even settle for Cyrus.

“They’re around. Don’t worry.” Jeremy is not getting the message.

“I really need to go find them,” I repeat more firmly.

“Adair,” he starts, but before he can finish the thought he is thrown backwards like he’s a yo-yo.

Jeremy crashes against the wall, knocking a few people over along the way, before I process what happened. He slides to the floor, but as soon as he tries to scramble to his feet, Sterling is there.

Someone arrives at my side, and I look over to see Poppy. She clutches my arm, but before she can ask what happened, Sterling lifts Jeremy up by the collar of his shirt and slams him against the wall again, knocking loose dusty plaster.

“She said she wants to go,” Sterling says, dropping him on to his feet, only to shove him hard in the chest.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jeremy brushes off his shirt.

“Her boyfriend,” Sterling roars.