Free Lost to You by A. L. Jackson Page B

extended his hand. Dark brown eyes shifted down the length of my body as he shook my hand.
    I had the urge to hide behind Christian, or maybe run.
    I looked back around the room again.
    Yeah. Running seemed like a really good idea.
    “Come on.” Christian tugged me into the crowd, a crush of bodies and music and the overpowering smell of alcohol washing over me in a heady wave. His mouth was close to my ear. “You want a beer?”
    Not really, but what else was I supposed to do in this atmosphere? “Sure,” I shouted over the music.
    Christian wound us through the room, pausing to talk to a few people, introducing me to faces and names I would never remember. To the right, a small kitchen overflowed with students surrounding a keg. The music played from the other room, and in here, people yelled as they drank, girls laughed too loud and wore too little.
    Self-consciously, I peeked down at my jeans and sweatshirt. No question, I was out of place. It was affirmed by the stares I received, the quick glances and hushed whispers.
    I edged closer to Christian’s side.
    What in the world was he thinking bringing me here?
    Strangest was, in it, Christian emanated ease, brash as he bantered with his friends. It was hard to reconcile the two, the Christian I’d come to know in our quiet evenings at his place, and the one I’d first recognized when he walked through the door to the café more than three months before.
    Worst was, they were here. I could feel them, the eyes that caressed Christian with familiarity, those who’d known his body the way I’d never allow myself to. Their eyes would ultimately slide to study my face with barely constrained sneers, then drop to the place where Christian had his hand wrapped around mine.
    What they didn’t know was that this was the first time Christian had ever held my hand, that I didn’t belong to him, and that I never would.
    Jealousy struck me like a slap to the face.
    Because for the most fleeting moment, I wished for once to trade them places. Just once to slip into the role of the casual girl who could handle this .
    Christian broke from me, filled a red cup, and passed it my direction, cutting into my thoughts. His smile was so infectious, directed only at me. Blue eyes embraced my face, searching, silently asking if I was okay.
    I’d once thought him too pretty. Now I knew better. He was beautiful. I’d spent countless days and hours with him, and the effect was still the same. I’d just learned to disguise it, to lump it in with the affection I felt for him as a friend. And it was strong, the part of me that begged for Christian’s touch. But the affection I held for him was so much greater than the hunger these girls were watching him with, so much greater than the obscured lust that swirled and pulsed in my veins.
    I could never give into one night. Not even a short-lived affair. It just wasn’t worth it. I’d never survive without Christian in my life.
    Sipping at the bitter liquid in my cup, I fidgeted uncomfortably as my attention flitted around the room at the faces of the people Christian called friends. Halfheartedly, I listened to the conversations happening around me, pretending to act as if I was interested and enjoying myself, since Christian seemed to be having fun.
    I forced myself to finish one beer in the span of time it took Christian to down five. He attempted to include me, but I just couldn’t settle, couldn’t find comfort in this place. I gave a little yank at the hem of his shirt to get his attention. He turned back to me.
    “Is there a restroom I can use?”
    I could tell he was a little buzzed, his pupils wider and slowed. He squinted to focus on me. Then he tipped me that earth-shattering smile. “Yeah, sure...it’s right down the hall. You want me to come with you?”
    I forced myself to smile back. “No, I’m fine. I’ll be right back.”
    “Okay.” He turned back to the guy he was talking to.
    Keeping my head down, I made my way