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FOURTEEN
easier to breathe
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I FOUND ITquite ironic that I found it easier to breathe once I had left the bathroom, despite the heat of the club. I tucked away every shred of doubt and regret into my back pocket, and walked with my head held high.
It felt undeniably powerful that I had stood up for myself without caving, even though it was something that I was used to doing. I supposed it had something to do with the fact that Isaiah wasn't easy on my resolve.
"You know, the woman I met at the bar didn't seem like she would cave that easily."
Dean.
I resented the condescending tone. I turned towards his voice curtly, an eyebrow raised in slight annoyance.
"You're right. That woman doesn't cave that easily. It's a shame that I am her. It's really a bruise to my ego that you think I would let him go unscathed."
Dean leaned against the stone wall of the club, his arms folded in a serious manner. He was watching me intently, a storm beneath the wispy gray of his irises.
I traced the outline of his jaw with my eyes, taking in the rough stubble. It was quite different than Isaiah's usual smooth jaw, and I was surprised to find that I found it attractive.
He wasn't my type, in the slightest. I didn't go for blondes, albeit sandy. I was into darker types, both in skin color and hair.
But I also wasn't rigid in my tastes. Dean seemed to possess an allure that I couldn't place my finger on.
It was amusing that he wasn't my type, yet back at home I found myself in a relationship with a blonde-haired boy. I used the term relationship loosely, since it was exclusively for show. Keegan Allen was nothing more than accessory on my arm, as every golden girl at Richmond Prep needed one.
Funny that I hated his guts.
"Where's your boyfriend?" he asked smoothly, pushing off of the wall.
"I don't have one." I paused, glancing over him. He was dry now, although his hair was positively tousled. "You seem to have cleaned up quite well," I said in amusement, referring to earlier when I had drained the last of my vodka on his head in order to break up the fight.
Pity, it was quality vodka at that.
He grunted, rolling his eyes. "Now I smell like some drunk who lives in a bar." He lifted the arm of his fitted blazer to his nose, grimacing.
I held back a laugh, covering my mouth with my hand. "Some women like that. Try it out, maybe you'll attract someone." I made my way back over towards the bar to replace the drink I had lost.
