Sanjana attempted to go around him, but his arm shot up and blocked her. “Get lost, Red.” He jerked his head in the direction of the door. “She wants to stay.”
Terrific. He was going to be that guy. Emmaline sent Sanjana a pointed look, conveying that it was time for her to speak up for herself and help with her own rescue.
“Um, it’s been fun, Trevor.” Sanjana cleared her throat. “But I should go.”
“No, you don’t want to do that,” he announced with a certain nod.
“Um, yeah. I do.” Sanjana’s voice wobbled. She looked at Emmaline beseechingly. She was clearly in over her head and needed help extricating herself.
“Let her go.” Emmaline inserted an edge to her voice.
The jock turned then, firmly planting his bigger body between Emmaline and Sanjana. “We were having fun before you showed up, buzzkill, so why don’t you get lost?” His oversized hand dropped to her shoulder and shoved.
It wasn’t a hard push. It surprised her more than anything. She didn’t expect him to put a hand on her. Caught off guard, she staggered back, bumping into the opposite wall of the corridor. She rubbed at the back of her head where she’d banged it.
Trevor stared at her in satisfaction. Then suddenly his smug face was out of her line of vision because Beau was there, shoving Trevor against the wall, holding him with one hand at his throat. “You don’t ever touch her, Webber.”
So, they knew each other apparently, even though this guy definitely didn’t attend their school. She would have remembered him.
“Sanders!” Webber laughed, holding both hands up in the air. “I didn’t know she was a friend of yours.”
“She’s more than a friend, meathead.”
Pleasure suffused her, a warm bloom in her chest. More than a friend.
Beau continued, “That’s Nolan Martin’s sister.”
Webber’s eyes widened ever slightly. “How was I supposed to know that?” To Emmaline, he said, “Hey, I didn’t know who you are. No hard feelings.”
She glared at him. “It shouldn’t matter who my brother is, asshole.”
Trevor looked confused.
Beau gave him a hard shake as though that might jog some sense into him. “You don’t touch any girl like that.”
She grabbed her friend’s hand. “C’mon, Sanjana.” She pulled her through the party. Angry, disgusted . . . and not just at the guy who shoved her.
She was angry at Beau for some reason she couldn’t yet articulate.
Why did he have to even mention she was Nolan’s sister? As though that was the only value she possessed. As though her worth wasn’t even her own.
Right now she just wanted to get away. She hurried outside, ignoring the cold. She was almost to the car where Hayden waited when she heard Beau calling her name.
“Um, Em, Beau’s calling you.”
“Just keep going,” she muttered to Sanjana.
His words rolled through her mind on repeat. That’s Nolan Martin’s sister.
That was always the bottom line with him—all she was to him in a nutshell. Beau Sanders wouldn’t speak to her at school, or out of school, if not for Nolan. They wouldn’t cross paths. If he saw her in the halls . . . Well. He wouldn’t see her. She’d be invisible to him.
She blinked back burning eyes. No. She would not let herself get all broken up about this. She was a new girl . . . a new person. Or at least she was trying to be. She had red hair and she was talking to guys (and they were talking to her) and she was very close to finally getting her first kiss. She felt it. The taste of it was almost there on her lips like salt on a sea breeze.
“Emmaline! Wait up!”
She spun around. “What?”
Beau trotted down the walkway. “What’s going on? Are you mad?” His gaze roamed her face intently, peering at her like she was one of those tricky optical illusions, a picture with a hidden image inside it.
“Yes . . . no!”
“You sound mad,” he pointed out.
She sighed, feeling tired. “I just want to go home.” She motioned to the car. “Thanks for the jump.”
“You want me to give you a ride home?”
She hesitated, looking down and plucking at her damp sweater. “I’m soaked in beer.”
“Here.” Sanjana pulled off her oversized sweater, revealing a black crop top underneath. “Put this on.”
“Sanjana!” Emmaline cried, her fingers closing around the mustard-colored sweater. “Aren’t you cold?”
Sanjana shrugged. “No.”
Emmaline watched her friend traipse ahead toward the car and then glanced back at Beau. “I guess I’ll ride with you. I’ll just put this on.”
He nodded and they marched across the lawn to where his and Hayden’s vehicles where parked.
Hayden was waiting beside her car. “There you are,” she called as they approached. “Ready?”
“Sure, yeah.” Emmaline motioned to Beau. “He’s going to give me a ride home.”
She nodded and glanced at Sanjana as she plopped into the passenger seat. “I guess I’ll handle her.”
“She’s had a few drinks. She might need to sober up a little before you take her home. Her mom is pretty strict.”
“Plenty of time.” Sanjana slapped the air. “My curfew is eleven thirty.”
“I got her,” Hayden reassured.
Beau’s truck was angled in front of Hayden’s car. They climbed up into the cab. Emmaline slammed the door after her and, hesitating only a moment, she quickly pulled her beer-soaked sweater over her head and dropped it to the floorboard. Beau glanced at her and then looked away. She felt the heat climb up her face as she struggled to slide on Sanjana’s sweater. Her hands fumbled and she told herself it was just the cold. Not nerves.
Beau started the truck, adjusting the temperature and angling the vents her way. Her heart squeezed a little. He was nice like that.
“God, I’m ready for spring,” she muttered, searching for the neck hole.
It was just a bra. No different than a bikini top. Even as she told herself that, it felt different. Sitting next to Beau in her bra felt . . . different.
“Yeah. It’s a pretty cold winter.”
She finally succeeded in getting the sweater over her head. Leaning back, she clicked her seat belt on and released a satisfied breath. “There. Now let’s go.”
Beau smiled and pulled out onto the street.
Lesson #25
Kissing someone you care about can feel like a first kiss all over again.
x Beau x
Beau felt guilty.
It wasn’t logical. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He knew that. He knew Nolan would appreciate him looking out for his sister. He doubted, however, that Nolan would appreciate him checking out his sister . . . something he had definitely been doing when she changed sweaters beside him.
At some point recently Beau had stopped looking at her like Nolan’s little sister and started looking at her like a girl he wanted to kiss. A girl he wanted to more than kiss.
Nolan would not be okay with that. He would never be cool with it.
He mentally groaned. Nolan would kill him, and Beau would deserve it.