In His Bed (18+)

Chapter 47

The lights slowed, dimming ever-so slightly as the music morphed from a bouncy, dance beat into a slow, romantic ballad.

That's my cue.

Stepping off the dance floor, I headed for our table, digging my purse out from under the pile of discarded tuxedo jackets.

Nate was nowhere to be seen, a fact that I was intensely grateful for.

Probably puking in the bathroom...

Annoyed as I wanted to be, in the back of my mind I reasoned that what he did with the remainder of his night was none of my business. After all, this wasn't a "date" date, and once we'd posed for photos, there was nothing else I really needed him for...

Except...

As I turned around, I caught sight of Sierra smiling in Owen's arms, gorgeous in her iridescent gown, eyes full of stars.

Clutching my purse against my chest, I felt my heart ache, longing to be held like that.

Immediately, my thoughts turned to the man whose touch I craved...

We can't; we're in public.

Jason was somewhere around the room - I'd seen him chatting and joking with some of my teachers, and occasionally risking a searing glance my way.

Like now.

I shivered, feeling the sudden, telltale heat of his eyes on me.

In fact...

Zeroing in on the sensation, I turned my head at the precise angle to see Jason glance away. Angling his head down, I watched him listen with paternal forbearance as Faith apparently griped at him.

With a sigh, I sidestepped the dancers, skirting the edge of the room and heading for the exit.

Out in the hall, a sizeable line of people seemed to have the same idea as me, waiting as the harried volunteers at the refreshments table dispensed waters, sodas and snacks.

Weighing my impatience against my increasing thirst, I grimaced as thirst won out. Picking up my skirt in one hand, I walked to the end of the line, slipping my phone out of my purse to pass the time.

Unlocking it, I was surprised to see a message pop up almost immediately-

-from Jason.

"I'm guessing Nate wasn't much of a dancer?"

Looking around to ensure that no one was peeking over my shoulder, I replied, "I don't think he's even sober enough to walk right now."

"Yeah, I saw the flask. Do me a favor?"

A favor? With a grin, I typed, "Anything."

"Whatever else you get up to tonight, do NOT let him drive."

"Considering he left his car at Amanda's? I can probably make that happen."

I paused, my mind flashing back to a memory of Nate sliding his keys into his tuxedo jacket pocket.

Oh, yeah. Nate is "losing" those tonight...

"Thank you." He replied.

"I mean," I bit my lip as I typed, "this is me repaying you for wearing what you're wearing."

"Oh?"

"Were you trying to outshine every guy in the room, or is this just what happens when you put on a suit?"

"Hey, I'm only following the chaperone dress code."

"There's 'following the dress code,' and then there's showing up looking like you stepped off of a photo shoot." Shaking my head, I continued, "Seriously - I think the only person who hasn't checked out your ass is Faith."

A momentary pause followed my message, and then he was typing.

"Now I'm stuck with a mental image of Paul leering at my backside - thanks for that."

Snickering, I was about to respond when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

As I turned, my mood soured in an instant.

Will.

The boy who'd shattered my heart stood behind me, eyes wary, as though he expected me to lash out at him.

I mean, I might...

"Hey."

I cocked an eyebrow, wordlessly questioning his audacity.

"I just..." He took a breath, meeting my cold stare, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

What?

Will continued, "I never said it before; I guess I was kind of in denial about how badly I'd fucked up, and I felt like saying it would make it real - but..." His voice lowered to a mutter, "It doesn't matter. Just - I'm sorry for everything."

Glancing around, I whispered, "Do we have to do this right now?"

"I know, the timing's not great-"

"'Not great'? Will, we're at prom. I want to spend tonight dancing and being stupid with my friends, and then you come by and decide that this is the moment to reopen old wounds?"

"I didn't think they were that old..."

Irritation tingled on the tip of my tongue, and I grabbed his wrist, dragging him away from the refreshments table toward an unobtrusive door marked, "Stairs".

Letting the latch click shut behind us, I whirled on him, voice sharp as I uttered one word: "Why?"

He frowned, "Because you deserve an apology?"

I shook my head, terse, "Not that - why did you do it in the first place?" Glaring at him, I felt the anger burn through me, "That's the one thing I never understood - the one question I never got to ask; you hated Faith, you hated being around her, and you constantly told me that I deserved better - and then you went behind my back and-"

"We were drunk!" Will cried out, defensive.

"Bullshit!" I snapped, "No amount of alcohol would excuse betraying me like that!"

Losing his temper entirely, Will yelled back, "Oh, really? Then please explain how the fuck you still managed to forgive Faith?"

His words echoed against the stone walls, and I stepped back to get a clearer view of him.

He's right.

He's completely, one hundred percent right.

In the aftermath of everything, I had passively let Faith worm her way back into my life, occupying her old, familiar roles of "best friend" and "worst enemy".

Why?

Whispering, I shook my head, "I guess that I expected more from you."

His tone softened, "Hailey-"

"No, Will. I- I've known Faith for years now; I know who she is, and I know what she is. When she does something thoughtless and hurtful, shit-" I shrugged, "-that's just an ordinary Tuesday. But you?" I sighed shakily, "I trusted you."

Will's mournful eyes stared into mine. "I know. I really fucked up."

It wasn't a revelation, or a declaration, but a simple admission of fact.

"Yeah, you did." Twisting the door handle behind me, I turned without another word and walked out.