“Charley?” Claudia gripped my wrist. “We can go, babe.”
It was unfair of me, right? To feel betrayed. To feel the blade of jealousy score across my chest. To feel the burn of his loss in my gut. I only had myself to blame. Six months ago he was mine.
I’d given him away.
“Oh shit,” Claudia said, “it just got worse.”
I blinked, tugging my eyes from the car crash that was my relationship with Jake, only to find my focus zeroing in on the beautiful brunette walking toward me.
Melissa.
Yup. It just got worse.
I flinched at the sympathy in her eyes as she came to a stop before us. “Claudia, Charley.” She gave us a pinched smile.
“Hey,” Claudia answered, her tone wary.
I gave Melissa a nod, not sure I was able to speak past the burning lump in my throat. It took everything within me not to look over Melissa’s shoulder at Jake and the redhead.
Melissa looked over her shoulder for me. When she looked back at me, her expression was unreadable. “Jake told me you guys broke up.”
Another score across my chest. I only just stopped myself from touching it, to see if there was an actual wound.
Jake was friends with his ex? He was confiding in her? Since when?
Her eyes softened, like she’d caught something in my expression that tugged at her compassion.
I quickly wiped my face clean of emotion.
“This is just what he does,” she said, gesturing behind her. “When he’s hurting. Specifically when he’s hurting over you.”
Why was she telling me this? What did she expect me to say? That I was sorry Jake turned into an ass**ley manwhore when his heart was broken?
So I didn’t say anything at all.
Melissa shifted uncomfortably. “Just try not to be too pissed at him. He really loved you.”
He really loved me? Loved.
By some strength of will, I didn’t let her know that hearing those words was like taking a bullet.
“Why do you care?” Claudia suddenly stepped toward her, her eyes glittering with suspicion. “He dumped you for Charley, so why would you give a crap about him or Charley?”
Melissa shrugged. “Time heals, I guess. And I don’t care about Charley. I care about Jake.”
The uncharitable thought that perhaps Melissa was hoping history was about to repeat itself raced across my mind. Maybe she thought Jake would whore around for a while and then end up running back to her.
Apparently that occurred to Claudia. “He’ll never care about you the way he cares about her, so do yourself a favor and get over it.”
Jake’s ex looked like she’d been punched. She stared at Claudia incredulously before looking to me for help. All I could do was stare back at her, stunned Claudia had enough bitch in her to say that. Melissa shook her head and wandered back into the crowd.
“You do realize I’m to blame for her heartbreak,” I said to Claudia.
“Yeah? Well, that right there wasn’t her being nice, Charley. That was her kicking you when you were down. Oh look, Charley catches her ex-boyfriend flirting with another girl and is obviously gutted by it. Why don’t I stick another knife in her by telling her Jake is my friend again and I clearly have plans to go after him once he’s done sampling the redhead.”
I smirked sadly at her. “I don’t even need to tap into my rage. I’ve got you to do that for me.”
“Well, ye-uh,” Claudia said, still looking agitated.
“Claudia.” I grabbed her hand. “I’ve got no right to be mad at him.” Right?
My friend’s eyes misted over. “It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you.”
I blinked at the rush of tears heading straight for my own eyes and turned around so I had my back to the room and to Jake. “It’s self-inflicted. Doesn’t count.”
She sighed but let it go.
“Guys, you made it!”
Looking over my shoulder, I saw Lowe grinning broadly as he made his way across the room. I was immediately enfolded in his hug and I found my arms tightening around him without even meaning to. Tears stung my nose. “Happy birthday.”
His own arms tightened and when he pulled back, he searched my face in concern. “Babe,” he murmured.
Not wanting to make his birthday about Jake and me, I forced out a smile and stepped back to let Claudia greet him.
“Happy birthday, Lowe,” she chirped a little too cheerily as she hugged him. “Great party!” She looked across the room where a beer pong table had been set up. “Oh, I see Matt.” Sure enough Matt lounged against the wall, talking to some chick with his eyes glued to the table. Way to show your interest, Matt. “Why don’t you take Charley to get a drink while I go say hi.”
Lowe frowned as he watched her walk away and then I saw him stiffen when he caught sight of Jake across the room, still flirting with the redhead. Lowe looked back at me and I did my best to keep my face blank. I got the impression he wasn’t buying what I was selling. “Let’s get you that drink.”
I grabbed hold of the hand he held out. He led me into one of the quieter dorm rooms.
“Beck’s friends with three of the guys that room here. They opened their dorm rooms to us for the party.” He grinned over his shoulder at me as he led me toward a desk littered with beer. “How he talked them into that, I have no idea.”
“Here.” I held out a small gift-wrapped box.
His eyes lit up as he took it. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
I shrugged. “It’s just a little thing.”
“A wee thing, Row would say.”
I flinched at the mention of our Scottish friend Rowena. “I haven’t spoken to her at all since I left Edinburgh.” Another thing to feel guilty about. “Have you guys?”
He nodded as he unwrapped the box. “She actually joined us for a couple of weeks this summer. She’s fine. And she gets that you’ve got a lot going on.”
“Still, I’ll email her when I get back to Purdue.”
Lowe opened the box and lifted out the small item inside. He turned it over and his eyes flew to mine.
“I saw it and thought of you.” I gestured to the guitar pick in his hand, my eyes on the words written across it: Play It Fucking Loud.
“Bob Dylan,” he answered quietly. “You remembered.”
Back in Edinburgh, back when I was with Jake, back when everything was good, we’d all sat around the kitchen one afternoon, talking about everything and nothing. We’d gotten onto the subject of favorite quotes, and Lowe had talked about the reported incident when Bob Dylan was playing in Manchester and someone in the crowd called him “Judas” for playing electric guitar. In response Dylan told his band to “play it f**king loud.” Lowe said he got it—Dylan’s anger, yeah, but mostly his conviction in himself and his music.