Page 78 of Savage Lover

“Sorry,” I say, vaguely. “I thought there was a hair on your shirt. Guess it was still attached.”

Bella narrows her eyes at me, silently fuming. She knows I’m fucking with her, but she can’t say anything in case I wreck her stupid lunch story.

I tuck the hairs into my pocket, hoping that I got enough of them to serve my purpose, and that they won’t be ruined by sitting in the pocket of a romper for a few hours. I really don’t know how all this forensic stuff works. I could ask Schultz, if he wasn’t such a dick.

At that moment, the strangest thing happens to me.

I’m hit with a wave of warmth and relaxation.

All of a sudden, the night seems ten times prettier than it was before. The movement of the water lapping against the shore looks peaceful and rhythmic. I hear every crackle of the fire behind me. The reflected light looks beautiful on the faces of the people around me. Their eyes are sparkling, and their teeth shine brightly every time they smile.

I feel a rush of love for all these people, even the ones I barely know. I look at Patricia, and I think how much I admire her—she’s strong and intelligent and hardworking. It was incredibly kind of her to dress me up so nice tonight, to let me borrow her clothes. I wish I would have known her better in high school.

Then I look at Bella, and I think she really is beautiful. I didn’t want to admit it before, but there are some similarities between her face and my brother’s. Her big blue eyes can be sad and vulnerable just like Vic’s. Those pretty, thick lashes are just the same. They remind me of when Vic was little and so, so sweet. They make me feel nostalgic and wistful.

Bella’s always been awful to me, but all of a sudden, I see her behavior as a reflection of her own pain, directed at me but not having anything to do with me—not really. Once I can separate those two things, it doesn’t hurt me anymore. It just makes me realize how badly she must be hurting inside, to lash out like that all the time.

I feel a compulsion to share that thought with her. To be totally honest.

“Bella,” I say. “I wish you and I could be friends. I don’t think we’re actually that different. I think you’re smart and determined. And I think you’ve been through some rough shit, the same as me. I bet we have a lot in common, despite appearances.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bella says with a horrified expression.

Her disgust at the idea of us being anything like each other makes me giggle. I’m drifting in a cloud of peacefulness. She can’t upset me at all.

“I was jealous of you . . .” I say to her. “You had money and friends. But your dad sucks. And I’ve got a great dad . . . but he’s really sick. I guess I just realized everybody has something tormenting them . . .”

Bella is speechless. Her mouth is hanging open. I can tell she’s trying to figure out if this is some new strategy on my part, some new way to get at her. Every interaction we’ve ever had is combative, so she doesn’t know how to process this at all.

Patricia grabs my arm and pulls me away from Bella.

“Dude, what is up with you?” she whispers.

I laugh. It’s funny because even though Patricia’s pulling on my arm kind of hard, it actually feels good . . .

I try squeezing her arm, and that feels good too, the way my fingers kind of sink into her skin.

“What are you doing?” Patricia says.

I laugh even harder at the baffled expression on her face.

I’m having so much fun. I don’t think I’ve ever actually had fun at a party before. It’s always been shades of awkwardness. Now I couldn’t feel awkward if I tried. I don’t care whatsoever about what happens. I’m just peaceful and interested in everything.

Everything looks lovely. Ali is still blowing bubbles from atop the cooler. The stream of bubbles looks like translucent gems, floating on the wind.

I follow the bubbles along, until my eye is drawn to the parking lot where Nero’s Mustang is just pulling in.

“Look!” I say to Patricia happily. “Nero’s here!”

I start marching off toward his car.

“Uh, I don’t think you should go talk to Nero right now . . .” Patricia says.

“I’m fine!” I tell her blithely.

I’m hurrying across the sand toward Nero’s car. It’s hard to hurry, because my whole body feels limp and relaxed, in a dream-like state.

Nero is just stepping out of the vehicle. His silhouette stands out starkly against the streetlights behind him. I see his tall frame. Broad shoulders, strong legs in his tight jeans. He turns to the side and I see his thighs flexing, and the curve of his ass, which is as lean and powerful as the rest of him.

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