Page 42 of Count On Me

My head jumps up as I’m pushed aside. Jaxson lunges and has Jordan pinned by his shirt. “Don’t fucking talk like that about her. I fucking mean it, Jordan,” he spits out through gritted teeth.

I grab his hand that’s fisting Jordan’s shirt. “Jaxson, stop it. You’re causing a scene.”

He looks at me and then back at Jordan, who glares furiously back at him. He lets go of his shirt as people around us start to notice something’s going on.

“Come on, we’re going,” he tells me. But instead of following after him, I stand where I am.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to go with you. Maybe she wants to leave with a real fucking man for a change. Someone not afraid to make the next move.” Jordan steps next to me and puts his arm around my shoulders.

Before Jaxson can retaliate, I take Jordan’s arm off my shoulder and shake my head at both of them. “You’re both fucking idiots,” I shout as I storm out of the party.

The night air hits me as I step outside and goosebumps cover my arms and chest. I know Jaxson’s behind me. I can feel him. It both annoys and thrills me.

“I’ll take you home, Eddie.”

Fucking Eddie!

I’ve had enough.

“My fucking name is Edie. I’m not a guy. Open your fucking eyes and see what the whole world can see. I’m a woman, Jaxson. A goddamn grown-arse woman. And it’s about time you started to see that, because I can’t take this anymore. You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either? You still see me as eight-year-old Eddie, and do you know what Jaxson? I’m sick of it. I’m sick of being treated like an old friend. Just fucking see what’s in front of you.” I take a breath while he stands slack jawed and silent. I shake my head and tell him, “I’m getting a car and I’m going to meet Angie. You do what the fuck you want.”

I walk over to the valet and ask him to get me one of the waiting cars Antony hired to take his guests to and from the venue if needed.

“Edie, wait.” Jaxson snaps out of his shocked stupor long enough to call after me, but it’s too little too late. I slam the door and tell the driver to go before he can open the door and try to justify his stupid actions.

25

JAXSON

I storm back into the party, fixated on getting my fucking hands on Jordan. I see him up against the bar, talking to some other woman, and head straight for him. As I get closer, he spots me heading his way and tells the girl to move away. He stands at the bar with his arms folded over his chest and I want to punch the smirk off his face.

“What the actual fuck, Jordan?”

“What? I danced with your friend, what’s the big fucking deal? I asked you if you wanted to hit that and you said no. What’s your problem?”

Hit that? The words make me nearly lose it and knock him the fuck out, but instead, I grit my teeth and tell him, “I told you she was special. She’s my best friend, man.”

“Yeah, well maybe she got fed up with being your bestie and wanted to be fucked tonight instead.”

I see red and have no idea what I’m doing, but I know my fist connects with Jordan’s mouth. I know he lands a blow to my face and I’ll have a black eye tomorrow. And I know I’ve fucked up when Lockheart grabs me and a security guard grabs Jordanand I see blood splattered all over his torn shirt. And then I see the girl from the bar filming everything.

Shit! I shrug Lockheart’s arms off me, shouting, “I’m good,” and he relents his hold. The security guard asks if either of us wants to press charges and we both shake our heads no. Lockheart pushes me out of the party and into his waiting car. As we pass the main entrance, flashes go off and I try to hide my face from them.

“There’s no point, Brady. There were a hundred people filming your little tiff with Jordan. Coach is gonna rip your fucking head off.”

I groan as I throw my head back onto the headrest and mutter, “Shit,” as I realise just how badly I fucked everything up in the space of an hour.“Weren’t people supposed to be vetted so stories wouldn’t leak?”

“Yeah, they were but people suck, you should know this.”

Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I send a message to Angie. I know Edie won’t respond to me, but I need to know she got home safely. Even if Angie does decide to tell me exactly how much of a fucking douche I really am.

“Suspended, huh?” Pops’s voice filters through the phone.

“Uh-huh.” I tell him and blow out a frustrated breath. I hate disappointing him. I came here to prove him wrong and all I’ve done so far is the opposite. “Listen Pops, I’m sorry. I thought coming here, I’d be able to make you proud but…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on there a minute, you big doof. Every damn day of your life I’ve been proud of you,” he tells me.

I scoff at that statement. “Yeah, you were super proud when I dropped out of college to pursue my dream and flew around the world to chase it.”

---