All Broke Down (Rusk University #2)(69)
Author: Cora Carmack

I should be glad that he’s okay. That’s what I want for him, what I’ve wanted for him from the beginning. But all I can think about is how I felt after Henry. I was thrown for sure because my five-year plan had just completely unraveled, but when the dust cleared, I wasn’t sad. Not at all. What if that’s how Silas feels?

“Aw shit. I shouldn’t have told you that, right? It’s freaking you out. Listen . . . Silas is no stranger to mistakes. You’re gonna be fine. He’ll understand.”

I hear a cheer from the front of the house, and I take that as a sign that the first of the team has arrived. I take a few deep breaths, but I still feel like the ground isn’t quite steady beneath my feet.

Stella’s frat boy returns with a new drink, and as I stand to go in search of Silas she pipes up from over her cup. “Should plan A fail, there’s always plan B!”

“What’s plan B?”

“Naked apology. Works every time.”

I see his roommate Brookes first, and I can’t read the look he shoots me, but I’m 99.9 percent sure that guy doesn’t like me. Silas says he’s a funny guy, but I’ve never seen it. Then again, I’m usually on the receiving end of a glare.

I make my way over to stand by the stairs while people stream in. I recognize five or six guys from the team, but surrounding them are people I don’t know. Girls. Guys. They’re raucous and loud, and I’m willing to bet most of them are already drunk.

When Silas enters, it’s mostly girls around him, but he has an arm slung around a shorter black guy. He’s shaking him by the shoulders, and the guy is smiling, and the people around them are laughing and cheering, and he looks good.

He doesn’t look remotely as torn up inside as I feel.

He walks right past me without even seeing me, and I think about making a break for it. I could do this another time, somewhere a little less public.

Then from the door I hear, “Captain Planet! What are you doing here?”

Torres has a girl on each arm, but he ditches them both and jogs down the steps into the foyer to throw his arm around me instead.

He leans down to say something to me, but I don’t even hear it because Silas definitely sees me now. His gaze is hard on me, on Torres, really, and I don’t even think the guy realizes it.

I’m about to say something when I finally register what Torres is whispering to me, “And incoming in three, two, one . . .”

Silas says something to the player he’d been talking to and then starts in my direction.

Torres laughs. “Do I know my boy or what? You’re welcome. Now, I’m gonna run before I lose a tooth.”

He jogs away from me toward the kitchen, and starts singing the school fight song at the top of his lungs. Half the party joins in, and I can’t hear anything over the tone deaf and the drunk. But I don’t need to hear to see the way Silas hesitates now that I’m alone. He stops, looks me over briefly, nothing more than a quick scan, then turns and goes back to the crowd he left.

They move into the living room, and I stand there, my back pressed against the stair railing, trying not to react, trying not to let everyone see that I’m crumbling.

I was always scared that Silas would hurt me, but I never thought it would be like this.

Never thought I would feel invisible with him.

I stay there as the party kicks into high gear around me. I should leave. I should do something, but it’s easier just to stand here, to pretend I’m as invisible as I feel.

“How much of an ass**le am I if I say I told you so?”

I turn and Brookes is sitting on the stairs just above me.

“If you have to ask how much of an ass**le it makes you, the answer is you’re already an ass**le.”

He leans his forehead into his hand and gives a low, husky laugh.

“I’ll take that.”

“And I’ll take that I told you so.”

What had I told Silas? If he took me down with him, it would be because I jumped, not because he pulled me? Well, I’d jumped.

And I hit bottom.

“You need a drink, girl. Come on.”

I think back to my earlier declaration of who I am. I wanted to go to parties and be bold. I wanted to meet people. Well, here’s my chance.

I won’t be invisible. No matter how Silas Moore looks at me. Or if he looks at me at all.

Chapter 29

Silas

I assumed Dylan had already left; instead she’s stolen away all my friends.

I walk into the kitchen a couple of hours later to refill my beer, and she’s sitting on top of the dining room table. Brookes, Torres, McClain, and Dallas are around her, and they’re watching in rapt attention as she tells a story.

I sidle a little closer, my back to the group, and hear the tail end of it.

“I don’t even think. I just grab the handcuffs off Matt and snap them on the first thing I see, and the police officer is just staring at me like I’d completely lost my mind. Which I had, of course.”

“Here’s my question,” Torres says. “What was your friend Matt doing with handcuffs?”

She laughs, this high, tinkling noise that goes straight through me.

“Matt is . . . oh God, how do I explain him? Matt doesn’t have a serious bone in his body. He brought the handcuffs as a joke. I don’t think he even remembered they were in his pocket.”

“See,” Torres continues. “I want a thing like that. A gimmick that’s just mine. Like . . . the weird guy who always has a pair of handcuffs.”

“You have a thing,” Dallas says. “You can’t seem to hold on to your clothing when alcohol is involved.”

“I’ll have you know, I am fully clothed right now.”

“You’re not wearing shoes.” Brookes cuts in, low and matter-of-fact, and the table erupts into laughter.

I look, because I’m a f**king train wreck. Dylan’s head is tossed back, her gold hair fanned out behind her, her long, gorgeous neck on display.

Torres shrugs. “So I got comfortable. What’s the big deal?”

“Do you have any idea where your shoes are?” Dallas asks.

He thinks for a moment, opens his mouth, and then closes it.

The laughter doubles, and Dylan covers her wide smile with her hand, leans forward, and her eyes catch mine. I grab my beer and head out of the kitchen before the rest of the group catches sight of me, too.

I’ve just edged my way out into the living room, when I feel warm fingers graze my arm.

I turn, and she’s there, too damn close for comfort, too damn far for everything else I want.