Page 38 of The Backup

I shoot her a glare, but Asher just chuckles, sliding into the chair across from me without an invitation.

“Nice crowd today,” he says, his gaze sweeping the room. “Friendly, too. Everyone keeps staring over here like they’re waiting for me to do a trick.”

“Maybe they’re waiting for you to leave,” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended.

His eyebrows lift, but instead of looking offended, he leans closer, resting his elbows on the table. “Touchy this morning, aren’t we?”

“I’m not touchy,” I say quickly, then realize how defensive I sound. “I just don’t feel like being the center of attention.”

“News flash,” he says, his tone light. “You’re not.”

My heart sinks for a second, but then he adds, “We both are. It’s not just you, Sloane. They’re talking about me, too. It comes with the territory.”

“It’s not the same,” I mutter, fiddling with the sleeve of my sweater.

He studies me for a long moment, then leans back in his chair. “Well, you’ve got a plan, don’t you? I can see it all over your face.”

I blink, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“The wheels are turning,” he says, pointing to his temple. “What’s your big plan to stop the rumors?”

I hesitate, biting the inside of my cheek. Jacklyn glances between us, clearly intrigued.

“Well…” I start, glancing down at my coffee. “Next week is the homecoming game. And the Sigma house party after. If I take someone else to the dance—a random frat guy, as friends—it’ll dispel the rumors.”

Asher’s grin vanishes. His eyebrows knit together, and he leans forward again. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” I say firmly, meeting his gaze.

“That’s your solution?” he asks, incredulous. “You’re going to use some poor guy to…what? Throw people off the scent?”

“It’s not like that,” I say quickly. “It’s just practical.”

“Practical?” he echoes, his voice sharper now. “So you’re worried about what everyone thinks, but not about how I might feel seeing you parade around with someone else?”

“It’s not like we’re together,” I snap, my cheeks heating.

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, the playful, easygoing Asher I know is gone. “Right,” he says finally, his voice clipped. “We’re not together. So I guess it doesn’t matter.”

I open my mouth to respond, but he stands abruptly, shoving his chair back.

“Good luck with your plan, Sloane,” he says, his tone cutting. He turns and strides out of the coffee shop without looking back, leaving me staring after him, my stomach churning.

Jacklyn raises an eyebrow. “So…that went well.”

I groan, burying my face in my hands. What had I just done?

twelve

. . .

Sloane

Saturday eveningsat the apartment are usually low-key—pizza, movies, and convincing Jacklyn not to buy whatever ridiculous thing had caught her eye online. But tonight is different. Tonight is the Sigma house’s legendary“Roaring ’20s Bash.”

The theme is over-the-top even by Sigma standards: flapper dresses, feathered headbands, three-piece suits, and rumors of an actual jazz band in the foyer. Jacklyn had been buzzing about it all week, but I’d barely been able to muster any enthusiasm.

Jacklyn twirls in front of the mirror, her sequin-covered dress glittering with every movement. “Am I channeling Daisy Buchanan? Or does this look more like sparkly seaweed?”

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