Page 28 of Lost Boy

“Hey!” I holler, charging toward him as he turns around.

“Haley, what the fuck are—”

Unable to help myself as the madness inside of me boils uncontrollably, I shove his chest. “You listen to me! I didn’t get drunk because I can’t stand Nash! I’m drunk because you keep stringing me along. Giving me a little hope before yanking it away!” I shove him again. “You took me to a bookstore, Cade! A bookstore! And now, here we are, a week later, and you didn’t even want to speak to me after the game. What the fuck is that?!”

“Haley…” He says my name like a warning. Almost like …give it up and walk away.

But I’m too drunk to listen. Or maybe too pissed off to care.

“Go back inside,” he mutters. “Now.”

I’ve always been Miss Calm, Cool, and Collected. Yet here I am, losing my mind over Cade Huff in plain sight.

“No,” I say through gritted teeth. “I was having fun with Nash. My night went from being crappy because of you, by the way, to decent because of him. And you couldn’t stand it, could you?” I shake my head. “You just had to swoop in and ruin it for me. Do you hate me that much that you couldn’t let me have one measly night of fun?” I exhale slowly. “You know what? I am going to go back inside, and I’m going to find a guy to take me home.” I glare, acting like a complete child, knowing this is toxic behavior but so desperate for him to see me. “Someone who doesn’t treat me like I’m an infectious disease half the time, like you do!”

As I start to turn, his hand catches my wrist, and he pulls me toward him. “Do you think I want to be fucking chasing you around at a party, sick to my stomach as I watch you look at Nash the way you should be looking at me?” he growls. “No, Haley. I’d give anything to not fucking care what you’re doing or who you’re doing it with.” He gets closer, angry, hot energy rolling off his body.

“If you care, then why do you push me away?” I whimper. “Can’t you see I want you to care?”

“You only think that because you don’t really know me.” His voice is gritty and raw. “If you knew the fucking truth, you wouldn’t be running after me right now. I promise you that, Haley.” He laughs bitterly, but it dies quickly. “You wouldn’t look at me the way you do either.”

I stare up at him. “I don’t understand.”

“And you never will either.” He drops my wrist. “I’m not the type of guy you want to be chasing. It won’t end well for you.” He takes a step back. “What happened in there with me and Nash? That was a mistake. Forget it.”

Turning away from me, he stalks off. Every fiber in my being wants to chase him—again. But my brain tells me not to be that pathetic. So, instead, I gather myself up, walk back inside, and find Watson.

Because I’m ready to go the hell home.

After looking around for a few minutes, I find Watson in a group of guys and immediately beeline it for him.

“Would you mind, um … taking me home?” I say quickly. “Please.”

Stepping away from the group, he bends down and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Yeah. Sure, sure. Let’s go. Are you all right though? Did something happen?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m just really tired, and I drank too much.”

He throws his huge arm around me. “Let’s go, Hales. Let’s get you home.”

As we head out, we walk by Remi, and I take her hand. “I’m super tired. Watson is going to take me home. Do you need a ride? He won’t mind.”

“If you’re all right, I think I’ll stay.” She glances at the group she has been dancing with before turning her attention back to me. “But if you need me, I can totally go home too.”

I give her a reassuring smile, though I’m sure it’s lopsided and goofy because of how fuzzy my brain feels. “Stay. Have fun. But please, if you need a ride, call.” I laugh and give her a hug. “I mean, I personally can’t drive you tonight. But I know Watson would.”

“Thanks, babe. Love you,” she says, smiling as I release her.

“Love you more.” I turn back toward Watson.

And everything starts to spin. And my head feels fuzzier than ever.

I guess that last shot wasn’t the best idea after all.

Cade

Even in my drunken, high stupor, I’m fucking fuming as I walk along the sidewalk, heading home. I didn’t want to leave her there. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to tell her why I act the way I do when it comes to her. The fucking girl makes me feel things I never have, and it’s making me insane.

I made that scene with Nash, but truth be told, he’s not a bad guy. I know he wouldn’t hurt her; it’s the other ones there I worry about. And despite the fact that she’s been hurt before, she seems to trust so easily. And she shouldn’t.