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Hunter grinned at me. “Do you think I could study over here next year?”
“Sure, then you could have as much of Mischa as you wanted.”
“Well, well, well, what’s going on here?”
A tall guy with dark, spiked hair approached us with a seedy grin on his face.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Elliott asked, rising from his chair.
“Don’t,” Georgia said, pulling him back down, “Ignore him. We’re not fighting with Leon tonight.”
“How lovely to see you,” Leon said, with the kind of sleaziness that made me want to punch him in the face. He rested his hand on Georgia’s shoulder, and she visibly flinched at his touch. Elliott put his hand over Leon’s, prising his fingers off and squeezing them hard to make his point.
“You have about two seconds to get away from us before I have you removed,” Elliott told him.
Leon raised his hands, “Hey, I just wanted to say hello. I-” he trailed off as his eyes rested on Isabelle. More specifically, Isabelle’s cleavage.
“Wow, Isabelle, we don’t see you looking like that very often. Maybe I’ve been chasing the wrong sister. You should call me sometime.”
Isabelle lowered her head, folding her arms across her chest to block his view.
If he doesn’t quit staring at her, I will smack him in the teeth.
“Back off,” Elliott said, and this time he stood up. Even though Leon was tall, Elliott towered over him, and he took a step back.
“Relax,” he said. “I’m going. See you at college, Georgie.”
He winked at her as he left, and his use of her nickname made her shudder.
“Who in the name of hell was that?” Hunter asked.
“Leon Baxter,” Willow told him. “The epitome of disgusting, vile and creepy.”
Isabelle still hadn’t relaxed, her eyes nervously darting through the crowds, as if she was expecting him to come back.
“He’s been borderline stalking me since we started college,” Georgia explained. “He’s in our English Lit class. He asks me out almost every time I see him, has no sense of personal space, and he has a promising future as a flasher or a peeping tom.”
“You’re not explaining this properly,” Elliott said. “He isn’t just creepy, he’s threatening. He’s backed Georgia into a corner several times, telling her what he’d like to do to her. She won’t let me go to the police, or kill him, but he’s running out of chances.”
After witnessing the way he stared at Isabelle, I completely understood Elliott’s instinct. Men who bully women are at the top of my ‘things-that-piss-me-off’ list, and I never wanted to see fear on Isabelle’s face again.
“Why haven’t you gone to the police?” I asked. “Sounds like he’s done a lot more than just hit on you.”
“Jesse’s right,” Hunter added. “If he’s scaring you-”
“He’s not,
” Georgia interrupted. “It’s not a problem. I have less than a year of college left now, and as long as I stay out of his way, there’s nothing to worry about.”
Isabelle’s eyes told a different story. She and Georgia had never shown any sign of having problems at college, though. Maybe Georgia really believed Leon wouldn’t hurt her, or she’d gotten good at pretending she could handle it. Either way, it was good to know the girls had someone like Elliott around to watch out for them.
After the disruption from Leon, it took us a while to fully relax again but we went back to Hunter’s icebreaker game, which got us back on track. We were having such a good time in the restaurant, we stayed for the whole evening instead of braving the cold to find a bar. Hunter and I finally ordered our first legal beers. Somehow, it still felt slightly illegal, but that just made it more fun.
Willow was picked up by her dad at eleven, so the rest of us began the walk back to Isabelle and Georgia’s house. There was an odd number of us, and because Georgia and Elliott were a couple, they peeled off together, walking a little ahead of Hunter, Isabelle and me. Isabelle and I hadn’t been alone since the day in her bedroom, mainly because I didn’t want her to feel like she had to talk to me. But after spending the evening sitting across from her, seeing the discomfort on her face, I wanted some time with her. I felt protective of her, maybe because she looked so delicate. It sucked that I was so close to her, but too far away to offer any real comfort.
When we got back to the house, Hunter went straight to bed, Georgia and Elliott said a prolonged goodnight at the door, and I went into the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea before going up to my room. I’d always thought tea was bland, but having a cup every morning had really given me a taste for it. As I heaped three spoons full of sugar into the cup, I heard a giggle behind me.
“How can you put so much sugar in?” Isabelle asked. “You won’t be able to taste the tea!”
