There’s no sign of him yet. The stage up front is empty except for a podium and two folding chairs waiting for occupants. One of our precious bottles of spring water is perched on top of the podium.
That catches my attention.
Who are we waiting for? Who deserves such a gift?
Who is ‘he’?
No idea, but I decide that I might as well stick around and find out—and that’s when someone reaches down and taps my shoulder.
“Sorry. I’m gonna need a little help squeezing by.”
Part of me wants to snap that there are still plenty of other seats around, that if he can’t slip past me, that’s not my problem, but I swallow the nasty retort an instant later. What the fuck, Xandra? Don’t take your crap mood out on everyone else just because you have your own problems.
So, with a faint smile, I scramble to my feet and come face to face with Tony Morello.
Shit.
His eyes brighten when he takes me in. “Thought it was you. Wasn’t sure with your hair hiding your face, but I’d know those pretty green eyes anywhere. How’ve you been, babe?”
Before I can answer, he grabs my upper arm, pulls me close, and presses a kiss to my cheek.
My stomach curls in on itself.
Tony Morello was the linebacker on Madison High’s championship football team, a brawny jock with slicked-back dark hair and a single dimple in his left cheek. He’s also this guy I grabbed by the hand and fucked in a locker room during senior year so that I could brag to Hallie that I wasn’t a virgin any more, either.
Since then, whenever I was lonely or needed a little affection and didn’t have a guy I was seeing, Tony was always willing to ‘catch up’ for old times’ sake. I made it clear at seventeen that I wasn’t interested in anything more than a FWB sitch. He seemed a little disappointed back then, and decided after the Turning that his being in town when the world went to hell meant we were supposed to survive the apocalypse together.
And maybe the old Xandra gave him the idea that she might be willing to at least keep him as her fuck buddy before the lurkers ate us all, but that was until the attack that cost me my sister. Since then, the idea of losing myself in meaningless sex makes me sick to my belly, especially when I remember that the only guy I’ve fucked after has been Hallie’s lover.
The same lover who is somewhere in this auditorium…
I shake my head, shoving my hands in the pockets of Rory’s jacket before I shove Tony away from me. At least he releases my arm, even if he makes no move to take a seat. “I’m as good as I can be.”
“Yeah. I heard about your sister. Shit. I’m so sorry. She was good people.”
She was thebest. And, no shit, he heard. In the Grave,everyoneknows what happened that night.
“Thanks. I… yeah. Appreciate it, Tony.”
That should’ve ended it. He gave his condolences, now he can move on. Take your seat, Tony. Leave me alone.
He doesn’t seem to be able to read my mind because he stays right where he is.
Instead, he stays where he is, crowding me while blocking the row. “It’s good to see you’re doing okay, though. And I meant it. You’re looking good.” His deep brown eyes look me up and down. “Real good. You know, maybe when this meet is over, we can go for a walk or something. Get some air. Talk or… whatever.”
Whatever, huh? Why do I get the feeling that he’d be more than happy to bend me over one of the rusty bleachers and occupy the both of us that way?
I open my mouth, but before I can figure out how to refuse one of the only guys I’ve never said ‘no’ to, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. For a second, I think it’s someone on the stage, but it’s not. It’s coming from the front row instead as a sandy-haired figure stops glaring over at me and begins to make his way past the crowded row.
My heart starts pounding.
Chase.
That’s Chase.
He must’ve somehow seen the way that Tony’s cornered me, and based on the furious look on his face, he’s going to do something about it. As I watch him go, he keeps his eyes on us. From across the room, Chase smiles at me. He looks at Tony like he’s mentally picking out a grave.
Shit.