Better Than Okay (18 page)

She looked up as the bartender arrived and she thanked him,
pulling her card out of her bra.

“I got it,” Raven shook her head and dug her card out of her
purse. “Brian is in love with you, Destiny,” she said after the bartender
returned her card. “It’s so obvious to anyone who sees you two together. Hell,
it’s been obvious since I’ve known you. He wants to be there for you. Let him.”

Destiny released a frustrated breath. Raven didn’t get it. It
wasn’t that easy. Nothing was that simple anymore. She grabbed two of the
drinks, heading back toward their couch. She paused as she approached, causing
Raven to nearly spill the drinks she was holding on her when she almost rammed
into her back.
 

“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” Destiny breathed aloud.
She glanced back at Raven and nodded toward their couch. “It’s Pink Dress and
Loud Girl.”

Raven gave them the once over, familiar with who they were after
one of Destiny’s rants about them, and then shrugged.

“You know you have nothing to worry about, Tweety.”

Destiny released a breath and scowled. “I’m just tired of her
being everywhere.”

Raven shook her head. “When we get there, sit on his lap,” she
said conspiratorially. “Come on.”

They made their way back to the couches.

“Clarence, your libations,” Raven smiled, handing a glass to
Dorian with a small curtsy.

“Thanks, Chipmunk,” he replied easily.

Destiny gave the extra drink in her hand to Brian. Loud Girl had
taken it upon herself to sit next to him, in the seat she had just occupied.

“Thanks,” he said, meeting her eyes. He started to motion for Loud
Girl to get up but Destiny shook her head and perched herself on the armrest,
crossing her legs. Loud Girl didn’t bother speaking so she didn’t either. She
looked Destiny up and down and shifted herself closer to Brian. Destiny pressed
her drink to her lips, downing half of it. Numbness. That was the mission.

“Chipmunk, this is Amber. Amber, Chipmunk,” Dorian said, waving a
hand between them.

He took a swig of his drink.
 
Raven smiled at Pink Dress, who was actually wearing mint green tonight.

“Chipmunk?” she asked curiously, studying Raven.

“It’s Raven,” she replied, casually seating
herself
on the edge of couch. “So, you guys just happened to be here too?”

Raven threw a look at Destiny as she said it and she knew it was
for her benefit. Pink Dress nodded and Raven smiled brightly.

“Coolness! Well, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Dorian’s told
me so much about you. He’s always going on and on about how much you mean to
him!”

Dorian tossed her a murderous look and Pink Dress beamed. Raven
managed to look innocent as she smiled at Dorian. Destiny knew she was trying
hard not to laugh. If there was anything Dorian hated, it was girls who had the
audacity to catch feelings for him. Keep it casual; keep it moving. That was
his motto. He glared at Raven as she chatted it up with Pink Dress, going
overboard with the friendly conversation.

Destiny glanced at Brian who had sat forward in his seat, his
elbows on his knees. He was staring a hole through her but she looked away and
pretended not to notice. She downed the rest of her drink just as the DJ
smoothly mixed out of Michael Jackson and Prince’s “U Got the Look” came on.
Loud Girl instantly started gyrating in her seat like a hooker.
 

“OMG, I love this song!” she exclaimed, her voice carrying over
all of space and time. “Come and dance with me Bri!”

Bri
?
Did she seriously just call him
Bri?
Destiny watched as Loud Girl stood
and grabbed Brian’s hand.
 
She felt
sick to her stomach. But she didn’t say anything. Loud Girl wasn’t broken. She
wouldn’t freak out when he touched her. Brian pulled his hand back, frowning,
his
eyes on Destiny.

“You should go dance,
Bri
,”
Destiny pressed him, standing quickly. She nearly toppled over and she steadied
herself with a hand on the armrest. “I am.”

Destiny turned without waiting for anyone’s reaction and
maneuvered her way through the swelling crowd toward the dance floor. The drink
was strong and since she downed it so quickly she was already feeling fuzzy.
And numb. Just like she wanted. She wished vodka could make her disappear
completely because that’s what she really wanted, to disappear. She stumbled,
bumping into happy, dancing people who barely noticed. Their bodies pressed
against hers as she tried to navigate her way toward the back of the dance
floor. She could feel herself starting to panic at all of the accidental
contact.

Someone reached out and grabbed her waist and she froze, her heart
in her throat. She turned to see some guy pushing up on her. His eyes were
brown and glazed. Her breath was coming quicker and she started to move away
but he held onto her, pulling her against him as he backed her into the wall.
She looked around frantically. Everyone was dancing zombie-like, the neon
lights flashing a hundred times a minute on their drunken faces and she felt
like she was in the middle of hell.

She squirmed against him, trying to break free of his grasp but he
must’ve thought she was dancing because he wouldn’t let her go, he just kept
trying to pull her closer. Once upon a time, a random guy grabbing her to dance
in the middle of a crowded club wouldn’t have been a big deal. But that was
before.

Now all she could feel was his hands on her, his weight. All she
could see was his eyes. She was hyperventilating. She gulped in air quickly,
inhale after inhale, but she couldn’t push the air back out. His hands were on
her waist and she couldn’t get away. All of the self-defense moves she’d been
learning at the Y escaped her and she couldn’t get away.

Someone was pulling at her arm. She was shaking her head no,
repeating it over and over again as she was pulled against another chest.

“Destiny!” It was Brian, yelling her name.

She collapsed into him, grateful, as she sucked in air, trying to
calm her breathing. She was sticky and wet with sweat.

“Just calm down…
breathe
… just breathe…”
he whispered gently in her ear, holding her close.

“What the fuck, bro?” the guy she’d be been dancing with, if
that’s what you could call it, pushed Brian’s shoulder. “I had her first.”

Before she could even muster up a proper reaction to being
insulted, she was being shoved behind Brian’s back. He grabbed the guy and
slammed him forcefully into the wall, his movements speedy and precise as he
twisted the guy’s arm behind his back.

“You touch her again, I’ll break your fucking fingers off.”

His voice was even and controlled and he twisted the guys arm,
holding onto his wrist even harder. After a few long seconds he released him.

“Jesus, relax, bro,” the guy was saying as he shook his arm out.
He glared at Brian then looked away quickly, clearly shaken.

Brian turned and grabbed her by the elbow leading her toward the
exit. Her breathing was still choppy and she was having a hard time focusing.
She drew in a breath once they hit the warm, thick air outside. She was pacing,
ignoring the line of people who were still waiting to get inside of the lounge.
She felt Brian’s eyes on her as she gathered herself. Her heart rate had
started to slow and she finally looked at him, which was a mistake because the
fury in his eyes was even scarier than the drunken panic attack she’d just
experienced.

“Come on,” he ordered, grabbing her elbow again, ushering her toward
one of the cabs that was waiting at the curb. “Can you walk?”

She nodded, wondering why he’d even asked her that. He was
practically dragging her and obviously could care less about her answer anyway.
He opened the door for her and pushed her inside, climbing in behind her.

“What about Raven?” she asked, managing to speak for the first
time.

He fixed a look on her. “She’s with Dorian. She’s fine.” He leaned
forward and gave the driver directions before leaning back against the seat. He
looked out of the window then at her, his eyes flashing with anger.

“What the fuck was that, Destiny?”

She jerked back, her eyes widening. He’d never cursed at her like
that. Ever. Even when she’d accidentally wrecked his car the day after he got
it his senior year. Of course, it was just a fender bender, but still. He
stared at her for a second then shook his head when she didn’t respond, glaring
out of his window again. Neither one of them said anything for the rest of the
twenty minute drive to his apartment.

When they pulled up to his complex he paid the cabby and thanked
him, then held the door open for her, pulling her out of the cab. He held onto
her as they walked to his door, since at this point, she was stumbling. She’d
wanted to be numb. Instead she was drunk. He pushed her inside of the house and
locked the door behind him then grabbed her elbow again, pulling her toward the
kitchen. He sure was pushy when he was pissed.

“You sure are pushy when you’re pissed,” she said aloud,
giggling.
 

He looked at her and she scowled then giggled again. He didn’t
respond as he grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He twisted the
cap off and handed it to her.

“Drink this.”

She did as she was told, gulping down half of the bottle. She
didn’t realize how thirsty she was. She wiped her mouth and looked at him. Damn
he was fine.

“Your eyelashes are so long. You look like a Calvin Klein model,”
she told him, nearly falling as she backed herself against the kitchen counter.

He shook his head, his expression still grim. “Drink more.”

She pressed the bottle to her lips again, doing as she was told.
He seemed satisfied when the bottle was nearly gone and he took it from her and
sat it on the counter. He stared at her, his features tight.

“What?” she exclaimed, trying to sound irritated. She was pretty
sure her speech was slurred at this point. He continued to stare at her, then
ran a hand over his head.

“You can sleep in my bed,” he said finally, his voice void of emotion.

“And where will you sleep?” she asked, tilting her head. Her eyes
traveled from his eyelashes—everything started at his
eyelashes—down to his sexy lips, to his chest.

He stared at her, shifting his weight. “On the couch.”

She shook her head, her hair falling over her shoulders. She ran
her fingers through it then steadied herself, bracing her hands on the counter
behind her.

“I don’t want you to,” she said, returning his stare. “Sleep on
the couch, I mean. You should sleep in your own bed.”

He sighed, irritability written all over his face.

“Am I killing you again?” she teased, grinning.

“Yes,” he said starkly.

He pushed himself off of the counter. “Come on.”

He nodded for her to follow him and once again, she did as she was
told. He entered his room and flicked on the light.

“I guess you need a shirt or something,” he said as she stood in
the middle of the room, trying desperately not to tip over.

She watched him head to his neat dresser and open a drawer. He
pulled out a plain white t-shirt then crossed the room and handed it to her.
She took it and held it to her face, sniffing it like the dork that she was. It
smelled like him. Despite his obvious agitation the corners of his mouth
quirked up a little then he shook his head again.

“Goodnight, Destiny,” he said.

He headed toward the door without glancing back at her.

“Wait,” she practically yelled. She kicked off her heels and
headed for the door, blocking the entrance.

“Don’t leave yet,” she said. “Don’t leave at all. Okay?”

“I need to,” he said, looking down at her. He pushed her gently to
the side so that her back was steady against the wall, next to his desk.

“No,” she said again, moving to stand in front of him.

She pulled the door shut behind her and leaned her back against
it. The room was sort of spinning and she waited until it stopped.

“Why don’t you want to sleep with me?”

He sighed, looking down at her. “You’re drunk.”

“So? That’s not what we’re talking about,” she said. “And I’m not
like, drunk, drunk, drunk. You know?” Her tongue felt lazy. She looked up at
him. “I repeat… why don’t you want to sleep with me?”

She dropped the t-shirt in her hands and reached for the bottom of
his shirt, tugging him toward her.

“I want to sleep with you,” she told him, looking into his eyes.
“I think about it all of the time. Before and after Connor Dorsey. Which has to
mean something, right? That I think about it, before and after?”

His expression was a mixture of desire, agony, and compassion and
her stomach tightened. He was standing so close. And all she wanted to do was
kiss him. All she wanted to do was kiss him, and touch him and be with him,
without thinking.