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I gently extracted myself from him. “That was more than ten years ago, Brandon.”
“Couldn’t have changed that much.”
“Funny you say that,” I said with growing aggravation. “I would say that I’ve changed a lot, but you wouldn’t know that, as you’ve spent the entire time talking to me about your awesome life in LA and all the roles you could have gotten but missed. I’m not interested. You missed your chance to get someone as amazing as me.”
I turned and strode away from him, feeling unbelievably empowered. Even though I could hear the words bitch and led me on being muttered under his breath. It might have been nice to flirt with him, but that didn’t guarantee that I had to go home with him. And it most certainly didn’t mean that he could push me around because of something I’d felt as a teenager.
Meredith announced from the front of the room that it was time for the bar to close and that everyone should head out now. A few people mentioned an after-party to the reunion, and groups started arranging to go to someone’s house to keep hanging out. I had no intention of doing that at all. I’d promised I’d get Landon home, and that was it.
When I found Landon, he was drinking straight out of a pitcher of beer someone had purchased for a game of beer pong on the patio attached to the side of the building. My eyes were round with concern at his level of inebriation. His eyes were glassy, and he was sloshing beer everywhere.
“Landon, I told Jensen I’d get you into a cab at bar close. It’s two. Time to go back to Austin’s and sleep this off.”
“Heidi, Heidi, Heidi,” he crowed, his words slurred. He slung an arm around my waist, ignoring the looks from the remaining football players in his crowd. “Don’t listen to Jensen. He doesn’t know shit.”
I easily slipped out of his grip. “Time to go, Landon.”
He placed the pitcher down on the table and stood up to look at me. But his balance was total shit. He stumbled forward into me, and I had to lean him up against the booth for him to stand straight.
“God, you’re fucked up.”
“Heidi,” he said again.
“What?”
“You heading out with McCain?”
I gritted my teeth. “What if I am?”
“Have at it, Martin,” Landon said, swinging his arm. “He only fucks anything that walks. Go for it, if you’re into that.”
“Even if I were into that,” I said in irritation, “it would be none of your goddamn business.”
“None of my business?” he said with a sharp laugh. “Right.”
His buddies patted him on the back and nudged his shoulder as they passed.
“See you at the after-party, Landon!” one guy called.
Landon yelled and held his hands up, “Yeah, man!”
The other guys cheered him on and then disappeared out of the now-empty room.
There was no way I was going to let him go to some party; that was for damn sure. He was too drunk to go anywhere.
“Landon, you’re drunk. Can you let me get you home, so I can fulfill my promise to Jensen?”
“Fuck Jensen!” Landon announced.
“I think Em has that covered,” I growled in frustration.
“Awesome. Another thing we have in common. Shitty wives, a penchant for whiskey, and my ex.”
“Would you cut it out?”
“I’d normally say blondes, too,” Landon said. He ran his hand through my long blonde locks and grinned at me.
I slapped his hand away from me and tried to remain calm. “Time to go. Let’s go. Right now.”
