I’m standing before I even realize it. Erik’s hand lands on my shoulder, trying to calm me down, but my body’s already in defense mode.
“Shut up,” I say, annoyed with this prick. “You’re disgusting. You probably don’t even get laid yourself because you’re more worried about every other guy’s sex life around here.”
Brett’s smile is gross, like he enjoys pushing people’s buttons, and he wants to find more. “You think you’re her type? That girl doesn’t want some church-boy savior. She wants a guy who’ll be rough with her, who will treat her like the whore she is. Isn’t that right, Chase? Didn’t you say—”
The switch flips.
I don’t think. There’s no speech about respect, no counting to ten, no intellectualizing why this kind of talk keeps girls unsafe. There’s just motion. My fist finds his face with a hard, flat sound, knuckles singing, the world snapping into a sharp, bright line.
Brett staggers back, hand to his lip, eyes huge with the shock of what consequence feels like. Everything stops as he stands there, staring at me…and then he lunges.
Two guys I barely know grab him before he can do anything, and Erik’s already in front of me, palms on my chest, pushing me back.
Mason steps between us, turning his attention to Brett with a lethal tone. “Don’t try anything,” he tells him. “Just let it go.”
“Your boy just swung on me,” Brett yells with blood running down his mouth.
“And you earned it,” Mason says so calmly that you can hear the threat behind it loud and clear. “Just walk away.”
“Mind your fucking business,” Brett spits at him, making Mason now look like he’s about to hit him, too.
Chase quickly intervenes, putting one hand on Brett’s chest. “Come on, man. Stop.”
Brett shrugs them off, glaring at me over his shoulder. “Whatever,” he mutters, wiping his mouth, and then backs away toward the door.
He mutters something under his breath as he turns, saying something about me being soft and how I don’t know how things work around here. I’m not really listening to him anymore; I don’t even care. My hand is throbbing where my knuckles cracked into bone.
I don’t even realize how heavy I’m still breathing until Erik tightens his grip on me, pulling me from the thoughts and the anger.
“Hey,” he says, leaning in close to the side of my face. “He’s not worth it.”
Mason comes over, scanning me, knowing how far my temper can go if pushed right.
“Let’s bounce,” he says.
We head away from the crowd of onlooking people and leave the house, knowing that if we stay, Brett is the kind of guy who won’t let his ego lose a fight.
“Want ice for that?” Erik asks, nodding at my hand.
I flex it and wince a little, then shake my head. “Nah, I’m good.”
Mason watches me. “You sure you’re good?”
I take a deep breath in and nod. “Yeah. I just…” I scrub a hand over my jaw, not wanting to lie. “I just can’t listen to guys like that.”
Mason nods like he understands, like he would have done the same thing. “Yeah.”
Erik turns around, walking backwards in front of us. “Dude’s a clown. I kinda enjoyed seeing you rock him like that.”
“I mean, it’s not even about who she did or didn’t—” I stop myself, shaking my head. “She’s a person. Not a story you tell to feel big.”
Mason glances back at the house before it’s fully out of sight. “Simone is going to love hearing about this. She would have decked him herself if she were there.”
That kind of makes me smile. “Yeah?”
“Oh, absolutely,” he says, and I can hear the pride in his voice over that girl before he tries to play it off.
Erik bumps my shoulder. “Want food? Or we can just go somewhere else and pretend tonight never happened?”
