Page 132 of Fault Lines
“I need another drink,” he muttered, barely waiting before vanishing toward the bar.
Rachel was back at my side, frowning. “What’s going on with him?” she asked as we watched him throw back another drink.
“I don’t know.” I honestly didn’t. “He was fine until Cam showed up. Now he’s drinking like he’s got something to prove.”
Rachel squeezed my arm, worry etched deep. “Maybe we should call it a night before things get out of hand.”
“No,” I said, sharper than I meant. “I’m not going to let Cam’s presence ruin our night. I want to be here.”
Jackson sidled up, loyal as ever. “Everything okay?”
“Just some unexpected company,” Rachel explained, tilting her head toward Cam’s side of the club. Cam was deep in conversation with strangers, not even glancing over.
Jackson sized it up at once. “He seems to be keeping his distance.”
“He is.” I let out a shaky breath. “I just wish Nate would see that.”
Nate returned with another drink. His eyes were a little glazed, but his arm found its way around my waist again, this time like he wanted to prove a point.
“Let’s dance,” he said, and I let him pull me with him, hoping maybe the movement would help.
At first, it worked. The music was a shield, the lights a blur. I could see Rachel and Jackson nearby, laughing and dancing, and for a while I let myself forget everything.
Then Nate’s lips brushed my ear again, voice low. “He’s still watching you.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Cam stood at the bar, facing away, not even pretending to look.
“No, he’s not,” I said, trying to reassure. “He’s respecting our space, just like he said.”
Nate laughed sharply. “You’re so naive, Livi. He didn’t just happen to show up tonight. He followed you.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said, pulling back to face him. “How would he even know where we were?”
“Maybe your friend Rachel told him.” Nate’s tone was ugly, and his grip on my hips was almost bruising.
“What?” I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “Rachel wouldn’t do that.”
He didn’t back down. “Wouldn’t she? She’s been pushing you to work things out with him. Since day one.”
I felt anger bloom inside me, hot and swift. “That’s not true. Rachel supports me. Supports us.”
Nate gave me a long look, then muttered, “You’re defending everyone tonight except me.”
I took a steadying breath. “I’m not defending anyone—I’m trying to enjoy our night, which is getting kind of hard with the way you’re acting.”
“Oh, so I’m the problem now?”
Before I could answer, Nate went rigid beside me. I followed his gaze: Cam was crossing the floor, heading toward the restrooms, not even glancing our way.
“He’s doing it on purpose,” Nate said, voice tight as piano wire, his grip biting into my arm.
“Doing what? Going to the bathroom?” I tried to pull away, but his fingers dug in. “Nate, he’s not even acknowledging us.”
“That’s bullshit,” Nate said, raising his voice. “He keeps parading around, making sure you see him.”
I shook my head. “He’s literally just walking past. I think you’ve had enough to drink. We should go home.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but I was shaking.
Nate’s eyes narrowed, and something in his face twisted that made my skin go cold.
