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Some of the tension bled out of me as the bodyguard vanished to the other side of the doors. I wasn’t used to someone hovering over my every single breath. Even when we’d been holed up at the Vandals’ clubhouse, I’d had more freedom. I understood security, but this was a bit much.
Turning, I found Ezra at the bar. Of course, he already had it open and was pouring himself a huge measure of whiskey before he stripped off his mask and took a drink. The red on his jaw was going to darken to a bruise. There was blood on his lips that he dabbed away and after he tossed back the whole glass, he poured another.
“Anyone else want something?”
Adam ripped off his own mask as he strode across the room to take the glass away from Ezra. “Not now, and you’re cut off.”
“Excuse the fuck out of you,” Ezra snarled as he glared at Adam. “You want me to deal with the sewer rat, then you get to deal with me having a drink or three.”
“You’ve had plenty,” Adam informed him, his tone flat. I sighed, and it sounded almost abnormally loud in the quiet of the room. It pulled both Adam and Ezra out of their glaring contest to face us. “Do you want a drink, Lainey? Milo?”
I reached up behind my head to tug at the silk ties holding my mask in place. With care, I caught it with my free hand and eased it free. I didn’t want it to pull my hair. Milo cut a glance down at me and I shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind cold water, but I don’t think alcohol is going to help this situation.”
Ezra snorted. “There’s ice since someone already stocked it, and probably water in the fridge.” Despite the sarcastic tone, he checked the small fridge beneath the bar and came up with a few small waters—ideal for watering down a drink. It would do.
Pretty Boy stripped away his mask and set it next to mine on the table before intercepting Ezra to take the water bottles. The tension crackled in the room as Ezra glared at him. For his part, Milo remained almost expressionless. The only resistance I read off of him was in his posture. He was holding himself back from punching him again.
The burn of someone watching me slid over my skin and I flicked a look to where Adam studied me. He glanced at them, then at me again. I could almost hear the tumble and click of the wheels turning in his head. It took effort to keep my expression neutral, but I fought for it and when Adam tilted his head, I raised my eyebrows.
If he wanted to ask, then he needed to use his words. I wasn’t going to pretend I knew what he wanted. Not anymore. I’d been wrong far too often.
“Ezra,” Adam said abruptly, breaking the standoff between the pair. With a grunt, Ezra surrendered the water bottles to Milo and then glanced past him to me. As with Adam before him, I didn’t try to pretend to understand, nor did I give in to my own curiosity.
Neutrality was the best I could do right now. The temperature between these three flamed toward volatile on a good day. If they forced me to choose sides, I glanced at Milo as he crossed the room. Then I would stay with the one I came with—I didn’t owe Ezra or Adam any explanations. Nor did Milo. He didn’t entirely give Adam or Ezra his back. If anything, he moved so he could keep them in his periphery.
“Thank you,” I murmured as much to him as to Ezra as Milo unscrewed the top of the water bottle. They were glass bottles, and the coolness penetrated the gloves. I debated tugging those off, but for now, I left them as I took a long drink. Like me, Milo took a drink and glanced toward Adam and Ezra again. The pair weren’t looking at us anymore; they were having some kind of violent disagreement with their eyes.
It was kind of fascinating, I supposed, for anyone who had never seen it before. They didn’t just communicate, they could war with the way they looked at each other. I didn’t have the key to fully interpreting the language the pair exchanged, but I didn’t mistake it for anything else.
Adam was furious with Ezra, and Ezra didn’t seem to give a damn.
“You wanted to talk,” I said when the three of them continued in the silent standoff. If we weren’t going to say anything, maybe we should return to the party. As it was, our absence would already set off the gossips. That would have to be fine. I’d rather they debate what they thought was happening than actually understand what it was.
Of course, I would prefer to understand the differences. Then maybe we could all get past them. For a brief time there, the four of us had been allies.
Was it too much to hope we could be again?
“Actually,” Adam said, as if taking the opportunity I offered as he unscrewed the cap on his own water bottle. “I wanted to find out what set off these two to act like they were brawling in some dive bar in Braxton Harbor rather than a ballroom during the event of the season with all of our parents in attendance.” The last might have been a dig at Milo or a reminder about who we were here.
Andrea had been out there, too.
That reality settled into my bones and I closed my eyes for a moment. Dammit. Milo stroked his knuckles down my arm. A gentle reminder I wasn’t alone.
“She didn’t see,” Adam said and I blinked to find him watching me again. There was a frankness in his gaze. “She and her friends were dancing on the far side. There were too many in the way. She didn’t see.”
“She probably heard though...”
Adam shrugged. “She won’t care. She’s too obsessed with her friends. The idea that two of the adults got into a scuffle won’t matter. Those who recognized them won’t be talking to her.” The fact he dismissed it so quickly was far more soothing than it had any right to be. Then again, Adam protected Andrea as fiercely as I did. “I promise,” he said. “She didn’t notice.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
“I didn’t know she was here,” Ezra admitted, the first hints of an actual apology creeping into his tone. “I wasn’t really paying attention to anyone else except for—well, except for you.” He fixed his wild green eyes on me. “I still want to talk to you.”
“I’m here,” I pointed out and tilted my head to glance up at Milo. “We both are.”
“Shall we start with why you hit him?” Adam asked, his gaze also going to Milo.
