Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths #4)(32)
Author: K.A. Tucker

And even now I see that odd, secretive smile touching his lips, his attention glued to me.

A look that Caroline studies intently and, by the way her nostrils are flaring, does not like in the least.

Inside me, bright, glorious, satisfying fireworks are exploding.

Dead silence hangs in the air for two seconds after the last note of the song plays and then a roar of applause explodes. I can’t help but beam. I let my eyes skate over Jared for only a millisecond, enough to see that familiar glow, and then I focus on Ben as he makes his way over to scoop me off the stage with a set of strong hands around my waist.

Good fake boyfriend.

“Why do you want me fired so bad?” Ben asks, his voice crackling with the low, soft tone as he leans into me. Not too close, but surely close enough to be inappropriate for Jack’s romance barometer. I hope he left before I took the stage.

“I think you’re going to do that all by yourself.” I take a step back, just in case he didn’t. I truly don’t want Ben to become a casualty of war and, if Jack’s still here and he sees this . . . “Where’s my drink?”

“Lina has it,” he murmurs, his chest rising as his eyes fall to my cle**age. “And you’d better guzzle, because we’re leaving right now.”

Oh boy. Ben obviously has plans for me. Tonight. That’s probably a good thing. It helps with this plan of mine: In. Impress. Out. I don’t want to linger too long and be forced to face the two of them together. Leaving on a high note gives me the upper hand here. “I’ll be there in a second, okay?” I pull the guitar strap over my head and hand it back to the guitar player, who offers me a nod of praise before jumping back onstage. With a gentle jab at Ben’s ribs, I head to the ladies’ room, feeling his eyes scorch my back the entire way. Or maybe they were Jared’s eyes.

Or both.

But the second I step out of the stall, I find a very different set of eyes scorching me. Ones full of hatred. And fear. They’re attached to the ginger-headed bitch waiting by the sink, her hands planted on her hips.

“What are you doing here?” she snaps.

So predictable. I turn on the tap. “Right now, I’m washing my hands. Do you want to know what I just did in there?” I jam a thumb over my shoulder to point at the toilet. “Because that’d be a bit weird.” If roles were reversed, I’d have punched her by now.

“I warned you!” She sticks her French-manicured fingernail in my face, so close to my nose that I fight the urge to swat it away. “Stay away from him!”

I give her my best confused look. “I’m here for a work party.”

“Really?” A haughty smile creeps over her lips. “So you haven’t been sending messages to Jared? Because somehow he found out that I knew his password.”

“And how’d that work out for you?”

The visible clenching of her teeth tells me not very well. “You asked him to come.”

“No. He said he wanted to go out for drinks and I told him I’d be here tonight,” I say slowly, and then switch my tone to something more patronizing. “I think you should be more concerned with why Jared wants to meet up with his ex-wife in the first place. Why he’s going out of his way to be friends with me.”

Her brow pulls together. I can see the wheels of suspicion begin churning, the once supremely confident Caroline suffering from the affliction of doubt. Is Jared cheating on her? Would he? My work for tonight could be done. I could just leave her with that.

But, of course, I don’t, because the burn from their treachery has left emotionally crippling scars inside. “I wonder what it’ll feel like when you catch him with another woman.”

“He wouldn’t do that to me.”

I stare hard at her, looking for the truth behind that. I can’t tell if she actually believes it. If she believes she is that important to him. “No?” I plaster on my own wicked smile, and I know it’s a winning one because her face pales. And then, because this woman still hasn’t shown an ounce of shame for what she did to me, hasn’t attempted to say “I’m sorry,” I go straight for her jugular by hissing, “I’ll be sure to let you know what I think of your shower.”

Her eyes flash with rage. “You whore!”

I’m guessing Lina and Nicki saw her follow me in and had their heads pressed against the door because the second Caroline shrieks, the two of them plowed through it, followed closely by Ben and Mason and a couple of curious women on their way to the bathroom. It’s perfect timing, really. I was just standing there, my arms folded across my chest, when Caroline flew at me, claws out.

I let her get one scratch across my collarbone in and a few solid fingerprints over my throat before I shove her away.

Nicki intercepts any further attack by firmly holding her arms to her side. I’ve seen her put people in headlocks before, so this is rather gentle. I doubt it’s necessary, though. By Caroline’s splotchy red face and the way she’s smoothing out her dress, she’s embarrassed. “I’m filing a restraining order against you.”

I dab a tissue that Lina provided against the scratch along my neck. It comes back with a few spots of blood. “Good luck with that. I haven’t done anything wrong. If you’ll recall, I moved away from you. I have never approached either of you.” Well, that is technically a lie, but she doesn’t know about the paintball. “I did not get your new phone number. I did not message Jared first. And I certainly did not just physically attack you. In front of witnesses. I’m just here, celebrating with my co-workers. And my boyfriend,” I add, gesturing to Ben, who shoots an exasperated look my way while Mason has one of his own for his friend. “Maybe I should be filing a restraining order against you? What do you think?” Just to be a complete ass, I ask Lina. “What do you think?”

“I think the court would be on your side, but I’m no lawyer.” Turning slightly, Lina muses, “What do you think, lawyers? Would Reese have a case here?”

Mason pushes a hand through his hair for the tenth time. I wonder what’s stressing him out more—being in a women’s bathroom or having no clue what the hell is going on and who Caroline is. Clearing his throat, he manages to get out, “I believe Reese would have a very strong case. In fact, we should call the police and file assault charges right now.”

I don’t believe it. Jiminy Cricket is actually defending me. Sure, it probably has more to do with him wanting to please my best friend, but . . .

I’m going to buy him a club-sized pack of Lysol wipes as a thank you.

“Caroline?” We all turn to find Jared stepping into the women’s washroom with what I presume is the manager behind him. I make sure any trace of a smile is wiped clean off my face as I clutch my throat a little more obviously. Not that Jared is necessarily going to buy the wounded act coming from me, but . . . “What’s going on in here?” He looks from her to me, to the paper towel across my neck, and back to her with surprise. “Tell me you didn’t just attack Reese in the bathroom.”

Caroline’s face turns an even darker, more unflattering shade of red. I think the sweet little Georgia peach has been caught with her prissy drawers down, exposing the very unladylike underside that she prefers to hide.

“I’m not going to press charges. I just want to go back to celebrating Ben’s night with him.” Looping arms with Ben, who’s still watching me with an odd look on his face, I walk out of the bathroom and down the hall with my head held high, the others trailing.

“We’ll catch up to you guys in a minute,” Ben calls out, pulling me back and into a small alcove near a service entrance, off from the main room and away from spectators.

“Sure. Maybe Lina can fill me in while we wait,” Mason mutters, shooting me a glare as they continue on.

Ben lifts my chin with his finger to inspect the scratch. “It’s not too bad.”

“Unless she’s rabid.”

That earns a small smile. “She was practically foaming at the mouth. I’m surprised you didn’t hit her back. Then again, I figure that all went down exactly like you wanted it to, didn’t it, Miss Devious?” The smile falls slightly as he asks a little bit more softly, “Was all of this for him?” I hear the question behind it. Was any of tonight for me?

Shit. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Ben does actually care.

Ben’s eyes drift to my mouth, reminding me of last weekend, making me feel as though I’ve somehow just betrayed him. Even though I haven’t, because we’re just friends, something both of us were adamant about. Are adamant about. Still, I’m starting to feel a little bit guilty.

“Hey, Reese, are you okay?” I guess we’re not as well hidden as we think, because Jared has easily found us.

“She’s fine. Take your crazy wife and get out of here,” Ben answers for me, his hands tightening around my waist as if to hold me in place.

Jared’s gaze hardens as he stares at Ben. I’ve seen Jared turn into a hothead before, ready to pick a fight.

“Don’t even think about it, man,” Ben murmurs in warning. “Just turn around and take that welted ass of yours home.”

He did not just say that.

Jared’s light green eyes narrow as if processing, darting from me to Ben and back to me. And . . . there it is. The recognition. Oh my God. My stomach just dropped to the worn wood floors. I’m going to kill Ben.

Jared opens his mouth to say something, but a sobbing Caroline comes out of the ladies’ room and, from the looks of it, she’s being escorted out of the restaurant by the manager. With a small head shake, Jared turns and follows her, his jaw set with annoyance.

Ben pulls me around the other side of the alcove, until we’re practically in the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you just outed me like that! Now he’s going to file a restraining order!”

“No he’s not. And no judge will grant it, anyway,” Ben states, shaking his head. “Please tell me you don’t actually want that ass**le back?”

“No.” Maybe. “I want to hurt him,” I admit openly. It’s the truth, and when I say it out loud, I can’t help but accept that Lina is right: I am a bad, bad person. I also can’t help but think that maybe this is too much drama for Ben. Maybe he’s going to throw his hands up right now and hightail it out of here.

And something about the idea of that pricks at my stomach.

Ben nods slowly as if he somehow understands, as if he gets me. That doesn’t mean I can’t see the disappointment in his light blue eyes, dousing my moment of malicious glory. “You know you’re only going to hurt yourself in the end, right?”

“It’s a risk, yes.”

“Well then why bother? You could be spending all that effort impressing me.”

That earns a raised brow. “To what end?”

“To a king-sized bed with Buzz Lightyear sheets,” he answers matter-of-factly.

The snort escapes unbidden. Well, at least he’s consistent. Folding my arms over my chest, I challenge, “You do not have Buzz Lightyear sheets.”

He shrugs, his eyes dipping down the top of my dress. “Only one way to find out.”

Checking behind him, likely to ensure we have no spectators, he turns back to stare at me for a long moment, his eyes searching my features. I’m still a little high on revenge fumes, but I’m pretty sure the sudden quickening beat of my heart has more to do with flashbacks of being in the pool with Ben than to anything related to Jared.

“I need to get out of here before I get into trouble.” There’s a slight pause, and then a sly smile makes those dimples all the more prominent. “And you have to make up for lying to me.”

“You live in a frat house,” I state, taking in the sizeable brown brick house in an older part of Miami.

Ben’s friend Nate’s deep chuckle fills the interior as Ben explains, “It’s not a frat house. It’s just a big house where six guys who went to college together live.”

“You sure about that?” I climb out of Nate’s Navigator to hear shouts from the porch as a group of guys chug their beers to a chorus of something that sounds like an Irish drinking song. “Because I don’t think your roommates know yet.”

Slapping the hood and thanking his friend for the ride, Ben ropes his arm around my shoulders just as Mason’s Subaru pulls up behind us. “Didn’t even want to be separated from me for a car ride, did you?” he says with a smirk.

“Have you ever ridden anywhere with Mason?” I had to once, for a total of twenty minutes, to get a ride to campus when the Audi was in for a tune-up and it was raining too hard to ride my bike. When Ben shakes his head, I explain, “He signals half a mile away from his turns.”

“And I’ll bet you pointed that out to him.”