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My friends blew kisses as Patrick steered me through the crowd. His tense hand on my back sent a flash of dark excitement through me.
Near the front door, he helped me on with my coat before draping an arm around my shoulders as we exited into the cold damp moonlit air.
We crossed the lawn and passed a clump of trees spattered with snow. A sharp tug on my hair woke my body up.
“You are so fucked,” Patrick whispered in my ear. Prickles ran over my skin.
“Excuse me?”
“We agreed: no other people. And three weeks in, you’re letting some other guy grind on you? His hands were all over your body.”
“I had things under control,” I giggled, trying to brush it off. “And your attention was all over that girl.”
I regretted my words as soon as I saw the smile on Patrick's face.
“Jealous?” He pulled me closer.
“No, you are,” I retorted. He blinked, and I dug deeper, sensing an advantage. “Turning into such a possessive animal at the party…” I singsonged. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Patrick. I never knew you cared.”
His jaw tensed, and a vein pulsed in his neck. His lips pressed together, turning white. I’d hit a nerve — a deep one. Quickly, I backpedaled.
“Look, you’re giving me shit. I'm just throwing it back.”
He let out a breath. “I know that girl from class.” His hand was still buried in my hair, tangling it, undoing all the effort I’d put into styling it. “That’s all. I don’t want her.”
“You seemed pretty into that conversation.”
“I was bored, Christina. I was killing time until eleven-thirty.”
“Then why were you talking to her?” I threw up my hands. “You give me such a hard time about lying and pretending. You aren't any better.”
He walked a few paces without answering. The lights along frat row pooled on the snow.
“That’s fair,” he said finally.
“See? No one’s totally honestallthe time. It’s not possible. Sometimes you gotta stretch the truth to make people feel good.”
“Like you and your ‘friend’?” He didn’t make air quotes this time, but they came through his voice.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re her bitch, Christina. She walks all over you. She comes on to the guys you’re with. She tells you to get her drinks like you’re her servant.”
“It’s none of your business. Sydney needs me. And I thought you said she wasmypet, you jerk.”
He shrugged. “Some pets own their masters.”
“Will you stop talking about us like that? I don’t want to hear it.”
“Babe, I think there are a lot of things you don’t want to hear.”
We walked down frat row in seething silence, our feet crunching on the snow.
“Are you ‘friends’ with Brayden Bronson?” I asked.
“I see him at the gym.” Patrick’s expression made it clear that he wished he didn’t.
“Hey!” A group of laughing partiers staggered past us. “Hey, Christina!”
