He stared at the bottle, probably shocked by her stupidity. Or he really wanted a sip.

I couldn’t witness this. I stood and bumped my arm into Caryn’s back.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, stepping away.

“Sorry?” she asked. “Look at me when you apologize, bitch.”

I let the alcohol in my veins win and turned to look at her with a half-grin. “I only see one bitch in this bar, Caryn, and I’m certain it isn’t me.”

“Is that so?” She dropped the bottle on the table and took a step toward me. “Then why have you been after Ryan like a lost puppy?”

Ryan stood. “Caryn, enough.”

“I’m after him like a lost puppy? Really? You’re the one who is always all over him, even when it’s obvious he wants to be far from you.”

“That’s what you tell yourself, so it won’t hurt as much.”

“You’re delirious.”

Jason stood too. “Jess, ignore her.”

“No, princess,” Caryn continued. “You’re the one deluding yourself here. Do whatever you want to have him at your feet. In the end, you’ll leave and I’ll be here to pick up the pieces, to put him back together.”

“Caryn,” Ryan said, a snarl in his voice. “Drop it.”

“What? It’s the truth. She comes in here all self-righteous. At first, she’s mad at the world. Then when the world doesn’t give a shit, she changes tactics and goes after you.”

“Caryn, shut up,” I hissed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What, bitch? Did I say something that wasn’t the truth?”

I clenched my fists. “Call me bitch one more time …”

“Bitch!” she shouted. “Cow, tramp, slut!”

My blood boiled and I jumped on her. Ryan shot out an arm and pulled me back, drawing my back into his chest.

I jerked against him. “You’re the bitch, Caryn. You are.”

She came at me. This time, Jason stepped in the way. “Enough, Caryn,” he said, keeping her back.

Caryn’s friends came to her aid, and Sophie and Rachel jumped to their feet to intervene.

Ryan retreated, taking me away from Caryn, and I kept twisting in his arms, trying to get free so I could finally claw her eyes out.

“Stop it,” he hissed in my ear. “Everyone is watching.”

Stilling, I looked around. Every head in the room was turned toward us, their eyes wide. Some had their mouths hanging open; others were gossiping. It was just a matter of seconds before the almost chick fight news hit Twitter.

Ryan dragged me out of the bar. I thought he would let go of me once we were on the sidewalk, but his grip was firm around my waist while he pulled me along with him.

“Let me go,” I said, trying to elbow him in the stomach.

“Stop fighting me.”

“Then let me go.”

“So you can go back inside and keep doing what?” He looked down at me. His eyes were hard and his jaw popped. He wasn’t happy. “Stop and think for a moment. Whatever you two were doing, it was ridiculous.”

He was right, of course, but I would be damned if I admitted that to him. Besides, I was a little proud of myself for standing up to her. Sixteen-year-old me would never have stood up to a bitch like Caryn.

The anger slowly receded and the dizziness from the alcohol took over. “It’s okay. I won’t go after her. I promise. You can let go now.” He eyed me suspiciously, but dropped his arm from around me. I stopped and looked around. We were half a block from The Pub. “Where’s Rachel’s car?” I resumed walking back to The Pub and reached for my cell phone to send her a message that I was waiting outside. Three steps later, my heel caught on the sidewalk and tipsy me tripped. Pain shot through my foot, and I flailed for a second, sure I would kiss the sidewalk, but Ryan was right there. He caught my elbow and pulled me up before my knees touched the ground.

Gritting my teeth, I limped the next step. “Shit.”

He looked down at my legs. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“I think so. My ankle is hurting.” I tried taking another step and I whimpered. The pain was even worse than before. With a loud sigh, Ryan swept me into his strong arms. My breath hitched. “What are you doing?”

“My apartment is right there.” Walking, he jerked his chin ahead. “We’re gonna sit down and see what happened to your foot.”

“No, it’s okay,” I protested. “Just … help me to Rachel’s car. I’ll text her and she’ll take me home.”

“We’re already here,” he said, walking us past his closed garage. He went up the stairs and paused in front of the door. “Hold on to me.”

“W-what?”

“Just hold on to me, please?”

Wary, I wound my arms around his neck. The arm supporting my back dropped, and he fished his keys from his pocket. As if he did this every day, he unlocked the door without looking, and carried me inside. He kicked the door closed and deposited me on the couch.

In the same rhythm, Ryan got an ice pack from his fridge then sat beside me. With gentle hands, he put my foot on his leg. Because I was wearing a dress and didn’t want to flash him, I grabbed a pillow and placed it on my lap. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.

Ryan moved my foot from one side to another, and I hissed.

“It’s swelling,” he said. “But I think you only twisted it, nothing major.” He placed the ice pack on my ankle.

At first, the coldness shocked me, but in seconds, it began soothing the pain.

His eyes met mine, something hard and raw written in them. “What were you thinking?”

“About?”

“Letting Caryn get to you like that. Reacting to the bullshit she said.”

Shrugging, I averted my eyes. “Maybe I can blame the tequila.”

“Even so. You shouldn’t give her the time of day.”

I returned my eyes to his. “You do.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you don’t get to do that.” He held my foot a couple of inches up and shifted on the couch, turning his torso to face me before depositing my foot back in his lap. “Don’t insinuate something and then shut up. Talk to me, Jess.”

Talk about what? About how Caryn was right? About how it hurt to see them talking and standing close together? About how I was leaving soon, and she would stay here to take care of him? Disgust rolled in my stomach.

“Were you jealous I was talking to Caryn at the bar?”

“W-what? Of course not!”

“We weren’t actually talking, Jess. We were—”

“I don’t want to know.”

“—acting like our usual selves. She bothers me. I try to let her down nicely, but she pushes it until I snap. Still she comes back. I think she’s a masochist.”

It was too good to be true, but how would I know if he was telling me the truth? Besides, it didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. As I kept reminding myself, I was leaving and he was staying.

I slid my leg from his lap and put my foot on the ground. Pain shot up my muscles. Shit. How would I walk away from here? I grabbed my pumps—one had a broken heel, great—in one hand and my cell phone in another.

“What are you doing?” Ryan asked, leaning forward.

“I should go,” I whispered.

His warm hand touched my arm and I shivered. “Stay. Just for a while longer.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Just hear me out,” he said, his tone almost pleading. I looked at him. “I need to say thank you. Thank you for helping at the site, for bringing others who also helped a lot. Thank you for taking me to see Brody. Thank you for calling John.”

“I … You’re welcome.”

“Jess, I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’m glad you came back, even for a short while. I’m glad we were able to heal, like you said. To find closure.” He ran his hand through his hair. “There’s one thing you should know before you go.”

“What?”

“When we started flirting, that trip was already scheduled, but I had forgotten about it. You made me forget about it. I … I don’t know how to explain. I had never experienced anything like what I did with you. It was like you could see the good in me, and you also knew my flaws, but you were willing to help me out, to wait for me to come around. I had no idea how much I had fallen for you until that night.”