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She glances behind her, and my breath hitches when I spot that familiar pink hair. “This is my best friend, Tyeler.”
The friend is staring down at her phone and looks completely uninterested, but I need to know if it’s her. I mean, there can’t honestly be that many beautiful girls with pink hair, can there? Before I can mentally determine the odds, Davianna pulls Tyeler next to her, and she’s forced to look up. The same gray eyes I remember stare back at me.
“It’s nice to meet you, Tyeler.” The cocky grin on my face relays my silent message—I didn’t forget about you.
Tyeler rolls her eyes and, before she can get a word out, Davi wraps her hands around my arm. “I hear you’re from California. I’ve been there a few times. Daddy owns a house in Malibu.”
Great. She’s that type. “Oh, nice.”
I shoot Jace a look. It’s the same one we’ve used for years. The one that tells him to be my wingman without actually saying it. And he picks up on it the same way he always has, trying to start a conversation with Davianna. Unfortunately, she can’t seem to be bothered with much he has to say, and her metaphorical talons are practically digging into my arm.
Tyeler goes back to her phone, but I can’t manage to take my eyes off her. Don't get me wrong— Davianna is hot, but she doesn't compare to her friend. Not by a long shot. Problem is, judging by the way she’s acting, I don’t think she gets rejected often. And those who don’t, never take it well when they do.
After almost an hour of painful small talk, Jace takes Davi to get a beer, finally leaving me alone with Tyeler. She’s been quiet since they came over to us, only chiming in when prompted by Davianna. This might be my only chance to talk to her, though.
“So, I found you,” I quip.
She looks up at me, but this time she’s lacking that flirty glint in her eyes she once had. “Pretty bold of you to assume I wanted to be found.”
Her words hit me right in the chest, and she gives me no time to recover as she walks away to go find her friend. I can’t even tell if she was kidding, but if I had to guess, I’d say she wasn’t.
Fuck me.
IT'S NEARLY ONE IN the morning as I down what has to be my eighth beer. I probably should've crashed over an hour ago, but there was no way I was leaving Tye alone with Mason. Not with his track record. There's no doubt in my mind that she can handle herself, but I wouldn't put it past him to slip something into her drink if he isn't getting his way.
Finally, she kisses his cheek in what looks like a goodbye and heads for the door. Mason looks like a dejected puppy, but I'm relieved. After watching her spend hours talking and flirting with him, I was convinced they’d hook up. Obviously, he was just part of her game tonight.
Glancing around at my friends, I see they're all conveniently distracted. If Jace knew what I was about to do, there's no doubt in my mind that he would try stopping me, but I just need to talk to her. I couldn't get my mouth to move before, but the shock has worn off now.
I discreetly make my way outside, finding Tye standing on the sidewalk. She's texting on her phone, and, at first, I think she doesn't even realize I'm out here. But as usual when it comes to her, I'm wrong.
"What do you want, Carter?"
Taking a second to compose my thoughts, I swallow. "That's a loaded question, but I'll start with just letting you know you should keep your distance from Mason. He's not the guy you think he is."
She turns and stares at me for a second before chuckling and shaking her head, looking away. "You always were the jealous type—just never with the right girl."
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it?"
Her tone is stern, her words clipped to show that she's not interested in what I have to say on the matter. Instead of walking on dangerous ground, I steer toward something a little safer.
"I tried coming to your place," I tell her. "After that night, I came there, but either you weren't home or you wouldn't answer the door. But I tried."
She doesn't say anything. She doesn't even look my direction. Instead, she keeps her eyes focused on anything but me.
"I wasn't trying to abandon you, Benz."
The nickname that's only ever come from me must strike a nerve, because her whole body tenses. But still, we stand in complete silence.
A couple minutes later, a black SUV pulls up and she opens the passenger side door, not even sparing a glance at me as she gets inside.
"This definitely makes us friends," the man behind the wheel teases.
I watch her roll her eyes through the side view mirror. "Just drive, Noah."
As the car pulls away, her gaze finally locks with mine, but it doesn't warm me like it once used to.
No.
This version of her is different.
Broken.
Calculating.
Seething.
This version of her has a vendetta, and I've got a target painted on my back.
