Free Salvation by Anne Osterlund Page A

after Char. Not that Salva wanted her. One thing he was not feeling, as he watched her wind her arms and legs around his best friend, then down one beer after another, was jealousy.
    “Hey, Tos.” Salva leaned on the back of the chair where his friend was sprawled, happily losing at poker. “You think maybe you could tell Pepe to ease up a little on the charm? He doesn’t need to get her plastered, you know?”
    Char was a slow learner, though a lot of Salva’s peers weren’t aware of it because nobody’s stereotype of someone with a learning disability was a gorgeous girl with bare shoulders and legs that stretched to heaven. But he knew she didn’t like to admit when there was something she didn’t understand.
    And she would not have understood his rejection.
    He had told her to shut up. She would comprehend that—would have taken it hard. Would have grasped, finally, that their relationship wasn’t going to the next level.
    But she wouldn’t understand why. Not really. And he couldn’t explain—couldn’t apologize for shooting her down in public because she might misinterpret the apology as an expression of interest. Which would leave him right back where he had started.
    Of course, she wasn’t
acting
hurt. Laughing at his best friend’s jokes and accepting every drink Pepe passed her way. She was acting as though the evening’s outcome was just as she’d expected.
    Tosa glanced up from his cards for the first time since their blond hostess had waved him aside and disappeared into the ranks of her other guests—a diss that might not have been a bad thing. Salva wasn’t sure his openhearted friend was any more prepared to function at Linette’s speed than Char was at Pepe’s.
    “I don’t think it’s Pepe’s fault,” Tosa said. “She was drinking plenty at Linette’s last party all on her own.”
    Probably true.
Char did struggle with setting her ownboundaries, never having had any practice. “Yeah, well,” Salva stated, “Pepe doesn’t have to help her down that road, does he?”
    “Listen, man,” Tosa replied, “I’m not getting in his way tonight. That girl hasn’t given him the time of day before, and I don’t think he’s gonna be too happy if we interrupt. If you want to play hero, go right ahead.”
    “I can’t. You know he’d read it the wrong way.”
As would Char.
    Tosa took a swig of his own drink. “You sure about that?”
    “Yes.”
    “Cuz there are plenty of other girls lookin’, if you’re on the prowl.”
    Salva was
not
on the prowl, though it was easier to worry about Pepe and Char’s relationship than to analyze his own status. “I’m not really looking.”
    Tosa wiggled his eyebrows, then shrugged. “Well, you probably don’t have to look, the way you smell in that cologne. You friggin’ reek of desperation.”
    Salva put him in a headlock.
    Never a good idea with a guy over six feet tall.
    In a matter of seconds, Tosa had him on the floor, one foot on Salva’s back. “Footrest for sale! Anybody want a footrest?”
    Salva swept his friend’s ankle, then rolled. And Tosa crashed down beside him. They both broke into wild laughter.
    Which finally brought their blond hostess back into the room. “Listen, you two,” she snapped, “anyone who breaksfurniture in this house has to work it off, and you don’t wanta know what kind of trashy jobs my stepmom comes up with.”
    Tosa sobered, giving her his largest puppy-dog eyes. “Sorry, Linette.”
    She bought it. Salva could see the witch-in-charge go right out of her and the maybe-I-should-take-another-look seduction slide into her features. A second later, the duo was winding its way into the next room.
    Great. Well, that had worked well. Now Salva had not only one friend seducing a girl who was two speeds behind him, but a second friend getting seduced.
    Which was what parties were all about.
    So why am I not looking for someone to lock lips with? Just for entertainment’s sake?
Salva let his gaze