Page 70 of Rushing Into Love

“Funny how word just zips around here,” Sue Ann chimed in, smoothing down her hair.

“No one could fault you for staying around, though,” Claire said, red lips pursed. “Ryder isdefinitelyworth giving things up for. I mean, the man is drop-dead gorgeous.”

I bristled at her choice of words. I certainly didn’t view myself as either ‘staying around’ or ‘giving things up,’ although she was absolutely spot-on with the ‘drop-dead gorgeous’ part.

I silently inhaled before replying. “He definitely is gorgeous. Tell me, Claire, which of these hunks is your man?” I motioned out at the crowd with my glass, trying to move the topic of conversation away from me.

“Oh, the hot firefighter across from the couch.” She pointed over in his direction. “You see him, talking to He-Man? That’s Sue Ann’s hubby. We all went to high school together. That’s one of the greatest things about Peachtree Grove—we’re all really tight, like a family.” She put extra emphasis on the word ‘family’ as she glared down her nose at me. She’d definitely selected the right costume, that was for sure.

“How great for you! I can certainly appreciate that about small towns,” I nodded, smiling through tight lips.

“Can you? I’m not sure you understand exactly how special Ryder is to this town.” Claire took a step towards me; she was so close her strong floral perfume tickled my nostrils. “Ryder is like a brother to me and I don’t want to see him hurt again.”

“I understand that.” I took a chance, giving her arm a gentle pat. Her body relaxed a bit and I scooted back ever so slightly. “He is very special. That’s why we’re not rushing into anything. I only have the most genuine intentions, I assure you.”Good grief, this felt like I was asking permission to marry the guy. Which, to be clear, I was not.

“Well, thanks for the drink, ladies. I’m just going to grab a beer for Ryder and get back. Great chatting with you both!” I air kissed in both their directions, swiveled on my heel towards the bar, grabbed a bottle of beer out of the cooler, and hightailed it out of there before Claire decided to throw a punch to mark her territory.

Michael Jackson’sThrillerwas playing so loudly, the wood floor vibrated beneath my feet. Lanterns and candles flickered, throwing eerie shadows around the room. There were so many people in the room, the air was warm and a slight sheen of perspiration broke out on my brow. I wasn’t sure if it was due to the heat or my uncomfortable conversation with the witches, Claire and Sue Ann. So far, this evening hadn’t turned out as planned. I wished I’d taken Ryder up on his offer back at my sister’s house. That would have been a lot more fun.

Nudging my way through the crowd, I tried to spot Ryder in the sea of strangers, made even more unfamiliar by the masks.

“Excuse me.” I elbowed my way between Barbie and Ken, who were slow grinding to some beat other than the one playing. They moved in closer to each other, leaving me just enough room to squeeze by.Should have stayed at the Dreamhouse, I thought, rolling my eyes.

“Crap!” I stared down at my wet costume, wine turning my tunic translucent.

“Sorry, dude,” said Michelangelo—the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, not the painter. He futilely dabbed at my arm while sneaking a peek at my now see-through tunic. “My bad.”

I sighed, shaking my head. I wasn’t that upset about the costume; I was more bummed about the wine, but I wasn’t going back to the kitchen. Not without Ryder.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” I brushed him away, my eyes scanning the room for my Knight in Shining Armor.Where was Ryder?

A flash of silver glinting in the left corner of the room caught my eye. The lights were pulsating now, giving the party a cinematic, stop-motion sort of vibe. I blindly cut over to the right, heading in the direction of the silver flash. Another white pulse of light, then darkness, then another pulse, all in rhythm with some techno song I’d never heard before. I didn’t see the astronaut anymore, but Claire and Sue Ann had cornered me for longer than I’d intended. He’d probably taken his free health advice and split by now.

Flash. Darkness. Flash.

I was almost to the corner now. The music crescendoed and there was a long flash of bright white light. That was definitely Ryder standing in the corner by the brick fireplace. And he wasn’t alone.

Quite the opposite.

Ryder was locked in a sultry kiss with Catwoman, who was dressed in a head-to-toe black leather catsuit, knee-high boots, and a black mask. Her long, dark hair trailed down her back and she was absolutely stunningly beautiful.

The room went dead silent. My vision blurred and I swayed a little, suddenly unsteady on my feet. A woman in a tight purple trapeze artist costume caught my arm just as I dropped Ryder’s beer. The bottle crashed to the floor, shattering loudly, glass shards and amber liquid exploding everywhere. A scream came from somewhere—across the room, maybe? —as I gasped for air, struggling to breathe.

I have to get out of here.

Spinning on my heel, I ran straight for the door, shoving random people out of the way. Music continued thumping, people kept bumping and grinding, as I elbowed my way through the crowd.Must get air. My breaths were coming fast and shallow; I was a fish out of water, gurgling, suffocating.

Finally, I spilled out into the night, the air cold but refreshing on my clammy skin. My face burned from heat and humiliation.How could Ryder do this to me? Did I mean nothing to him?

I ran down the sidewalk, towards my sister’s house, letting the rage bubbling up inside me fuel my quick pace. One-two, one-two. Lungs burning from exertion and the cold, I pushed through the pain. A twinge radiated down my leg from my knee injury, but I couldn’t stop—I wouldn’t stop—until I was at Brooklyn’s house.

I’m leaving.The plan popped into my mind as I jogged past house after cookie-cutter suburban house.I’ll grab my laptop and a duffel, then Brooks can send the rest of my stuff in the mail. I’m out of here. I’m not going to be another fling to some star.

Even if that star is amazing.

I can’t do it to myself. I won’t do it to myself.

Rounding the corner onto Brooklyn’s street, I ran up to the darkened door, flinging it open, then slamming it shut behind me.

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