Page 28 of Tainted Rose

Xander

Why do I get the feeling I’m about to epically fuck all this up? All day, I’ve ignored Scarlett. I’ve been puzzling through how and when to tell her what I’ve figured out. I felt her eyes on me all day long, curious and contemplative. Maybe even a little sad. I’m positive I’m confusing her even more by acting the way I am.

I know I can’t stay away from her for very much longer. I don’t think I can stop what’s coming. Not when I want her the way I do. And the only way I can think of to make things okay again is to tell her what I know. If I wasn’t so afraid of the ramifications, both for her and my own family, I’d have already done it.

Thank goodness we’d played one of the easier teams on our schedule tonight because my head was not in the game. It’d been squarely focused on the agitated redhead sitting in the stands at the fifty-yard line. I’d been surprised to see her, frankly, and her presence had thrown me off in a big way.

My cell phone lights up with a text notification.

Beau:Dude.

Beau:Where are you?

Me:Still at home.

Beau:Your girl. Not your girl? Whatever the hell she is to you … I’m so fucking confused.

Beau:She’s here.

Beau:Three sheets to the wind already.

Me:OMW.

Striding up to Beau’s front door, I wonder what’s going on. It’s not that I’ve never seen Scarlett drink before, but damn, she has a big meet first thing tomorrow morning. She’s so responsible about her scholarship, I can’t figure why she’d get drunk the night before.

All the usual suspects are present when I enter—football team, cheerleaders, and other assorted Roses deemed cool enough to be here. The place is hopping already, and it’s only ten o’clock.

I duck into the kitchen to find Beau exactly where I thought I would—mixing drinks, surrounded by a gaggle of girls, all hoping to be the one he takes to his bed tonight. Such a damn player. I snort to myself and give him a nod over their heads. “Hey, man.”

“Hey, you’re here!” His eyes shift to the open archway through which a portion of the living room is visible. My gaze follows. Bodies gyrate to the music, sweaty and hot. Nothing out of the ordinary, to be honest.

I frown and turn back to Beau, who is looking at me anxiously as he finishes with the cocktail. He looks back into the living room, his eyes widening. I look back, and that’s when I see them. Micah and Scarlett. Dancing. Together. What the fuck? Blood roars through my head. I blink once. Look back. Blink again. Nope, I’m not seeing things.

Beau drops what he’s doing, which doesn’t surprise me, as I’m about to barrel over there like a freight train, and he knows it. He grabs my arm, yanking me into a corner with him as I heave out a series of angry breaths. “First, you should know that we both apologized to her for… I don’t even fucking know what. She’s been mad at us ever since we asked her what happened between you two on Friday night. You really made a mess of things, didn’t you?”

I rub a hand over my jaw. “That I did. I have my reasons, though.”

He barks out a laugh. “Maybe you’ll share eventually because I can’t begin to fucking imagine what the hell is going on.”

“You’re right. You don’t have a clue. Have you ever known me to do things just because?” I dip my head, eyeing him in a way that I hope communicates that my motives are pure.

“Fair enough, man. You have your secrets, I have mine. Second, you told Micah to watch over her.” My eyes flick to his, and he presses his lips together. “Yes, he told me about that. And he’s actually doing you a pretty big favor right now. She showed up an hour ago with Max. Like I said, we apologized, but then she seemed worked up about something and did three shots of vodka before I could convince her it wasn’t a good idea. Now she’s pissed at me all over again because I tried to stop her.”

I close my eyes.

“That left Micah and Max to take care of her.” He gestures toward the other room. “She got it into her head that she wanted to dance. Once she wore Max out, Micah took over.”

In through the nose, out through the mouth. Breathe. I still feel pissed off, but Beau is right. I did ask Micah to make sure she was okay. And I trust my boys. I would rather have her dancing with one of them than with anyone else.

“She’s drunk, dude. Something’s going on with her.” He lets out a huge guffaw. “Hell, it probably has to do with you, so maybe you should go relieve Micah of his duties.”

I give a short nod, my jaw locked tight with tension. Slightly more calmly than I’d been two minutes before, I stride into the other room. My gaze catches Micah’s, and he gives me a grim look, ever so slightly shaking his head. Scarlett’s swaying to the beat, one of Micah’s legs between hers. He’s got one hand on each of her hips, and after a second glance, I realize he’s basically holding her up so she doesn’t fall. She raises her arms over her head as she dances, completely lost in the music.

I find a place against a wall to lean while the song finishes out. Scarlett’s skinny jeans seem to be molded to her ass and legs, and her pretty green top swings as she moves, a small slice of her midriff exposed with her arms up in the air. The sight has heat flowing through me like lava.

She swivels around, putting her back to his front. I’m grinding my teeth so hard I won’t have any molars left by the end of the song if she doesn’t stop pushing her ass into his crotch like that. I force myself to take a fortifying breath. I don’t know how much more of this I can handle. Jesus.

Micah shoots me an apologetic look when she reaches back and grabs his hips to hold on to as they move together to the beat, then throws her head back against his chest when she really gets into the song. Her eyes are shut. I don’t think she realizes I’m watching her yet.

---