Page 66 of The Cheerleader

I look around to see Liz and Judy flirting with Dane. He’s flanked by a few guys from the team who are trying to get noticed. They’re all holding glasses of beer in various stages of empty.

The sensation of being out of place breezes over me like a chill. What the hell am I doing here? In a pub when I don’t even like beer?

“What’s wrong?”

I look up at Bryan, shocked at his tone of voice, so different from the menace of a moment ago, still quiet but caring. Then I remember his concern for Liz that night when I first met him.

I smile at him, but he holds onto his expression, waiting for me to answer.

“I…” I almost say I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong, but I can’t. He continues to stare patiently, and something about him demands honesty.

Heaving a breath, I give it to him.

“I don’t want to be here. Not really. I mean, the girls are fun, but I don’t like beer or drunk guys and…” I run out of reasons for how I feel and end up a little confused.

He nods. “I’m leaving. I’ll walk you out.”

“No, you don’t have to do that. I came with Liz and⁠—”

“Tell her you want to leave.” He pauses and almost smiles again, if that telltale tic in the corner of his mouth counts. “She’ll understand. She’s good people.”

I laugh. “I guess you would know.”

That gets me an instant frown.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing. Just that you know each other. From way back, right?” God, what’s wrong with me? I have no business asking questions about their relationship.

He nods. “We do know each other. I don’t know what else she’s told you, but I consider her a friend.”

It’s not my imagination that he emphasizes the word friend, and it’s a little scary that his emphasis would set off a wave of nerves tingling in my stomach.

I nod. “You don’t have to leave on my account.”

“I’m not. I only planned to stay for a few minutes.” He reaches over and puts his full glass of beer on the end of the table where his teammates are gathered, flirting with the other cheerleaders.

“What about your teammates?”

“What about them?”

I heave a breath. “I don’t remember the last time I had this much difficulty carrying on a conversation with someone who wasn’t a difficult adolescent.”

He snorts, and I see a definite uptick in the corner of his mouth, maybe an honest-to-god smirk. “You sound like a schoolteacher.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Not bad. More ironic.”

A pleasant frisson of shock buzzes through me as if I’d chugged a whole pitcher of beer, but without the awful taste. Because I think he’s flirting with me. A flush of heat climbs my neck to my cheeks, and before I think another thought, Liz comes over, throwing an arm over my shoulder.

“Hey there—how are my two best friends getting along?”

Any pleasantness I felt is gone, and the heat of shame ignites the fire of guilt, scorching my cheeks.

“We were just talking about leaving,” Bryan says, his intense eyes on Liz. I cringe and want to intervene, to explain that it’s nothing because it isn’t.

Liz turns to me. “You want to leave?”