The Boyfriend List (20 page)

She took an
assertive step forward, and he noticed she was taller today, thanks to the
six-inch heels that wound their way up her ankles. Nearly as tall as him now,
it was easier to tell that she’d smudged a little too much makeup around her
eyes, and that those eyes were considerably glazed already with the combination
of alcohol and who knows what else. The strength of her perfume, a less than
subtle aroma that was more cheap than seductive, encircled him and nearly made
him nauseous

“You remembered.
I’m flattered.”

 
“It’s good to see you again.” It was a
blatant lie. He was already dreading the almost inevitable introduction to
Reagan. “How do you know Petra?”

“I don’t,
actually.” She shrugged casually and sauntered up a little closer, if closer
was at all possible. “I’m an old,” Pausing, she seemed to be in search for a
word full of implication, “
pal
, you
could say, of Justin, who I guess knows Petra somehow. When I mentioned I had
no plans for the night, he naturally invited me to tag along.”

And just like
that, a dark cloud had settled over the evening.

“Naturally.” Ian
remarked dryly, suddenly on edge. He threw a quick glance in Reagan’s
direction, and was glad to see she was happily distracted in excited conversation.
“Justin’s here too?” It was all he could do to spit the name from his dry
tongue. Eyes clouded with anger scanned the room, hoping to see him before
Reagan did.

Isabella nodded
in silent confirmation, her eyes studying him with uncertainty.

“Is that how you
got my number?” He finally turned back to her. “Because I don’t remember ever
giving it to you.”

“I have all
kinds of connections, Ian.” She remarked slyly as she reached across his torso
to accept another drink from the bartender. Their faces passed closely in what
he was sure she’d meant to be a sign of invitation, but the overwhelming smell
of alcohol on her breath only defeated her purposes.

“Apparently.” As
his mood clouded more with every second he remained in her presence, he knew it
was time to get back to Reagan. But there was something that’d just occurred to
him, something tugging at his gut that he needed to clarify first. “How long
have you known Justin exactly?”

Isabella took a
sip of her drink while she considered, “About two weeks. We spent some time
together over spring break.” There was a slight slur around the edge of her
words now.

And with that
statement, all his harrowing suspicions that Isabella had been the “other girl”
at Justin’s lake house were confirmed. Though he’d yet to see the picture
– Reagan’s phone had been dead the one time she’d tried to show him, and
he’d been too busy with damage control duties to search for it on Facebook or
anywhere else – he knew now there was no one else it could be. His world
had just gotten exponentially smaller, and if he didn’t act quickly it would
close in on Reagan too. He couldn’t risk that, not tonight. Not with everything
going as perfectly as it had been.

As the thoughts
rolled through Ian’s mind, Isabella was scanning his body possessively. “Seeing
you here was a pleasant surprise though.” One last step closed all but an inch
of space between them. As she raised a hand, prepared to run it up the length
of his jacket in an intimate gesture, Ian grabbed her wrist to stop her. His
grip was firm, just a little more than was necessary so there would be no
confusion. The tactic worked, he couldn’t help but to notice the look of
discomfort and surprise that fluttered over her face.

“I’ve got
someone to get back to.” Then he released her hand, still contemplating whether
he should rejoin Reagan, or remove Justin from the equation of obstacles first.

“A girlfriend?” From
the indignation in her voice, Ian assumed Isabella wasn’t used to getting
turned down.

“Yes.”

A little laugh
escaped her throat. “Funny you didn’t mention her the other night. Seems to me
if she was important enough, you would have said something about her at
Mojito’s.”

It was Ian’s
turn to laugh now, sincerely amused by her catty return. “Seems to me you
wouldn’t have cared even if I had. I mean, you obviously didn’t seem to care
that Justin had a girlfriend, did you?”

And with that,
Ian left Isabella at the bar, a look of shock tearing over her face.
 

Ian deposited
the drinks with the girls, then kissed Reagan lightly on the cheek before
making the excuse to locate the restroom. She didn’t seem to mind his extended
absence, she was caught up in the night, and the fun she was having radiated
from her complexion. The plan was to keep it that way, and to remove any threat
to her joy before she even saw it coming.

So naturally Ian
had absolutely no intention of hiding away in the bathroom. Though he knew
Reagan had already had it out with the guy, there was a conversation
he
needed to have with Justin as well.
Just to make sure things were clear from this point forward.

He spotted him
almost immediately, dressed sloppily in pants and a shirt that were several
sizes too big, his longish hair laced with sweat was hanging in his eyes. It
appeared as though he were trying to get close to a petite blond in a painted
on blue dress, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t having much success. Ian
rolled his eyes at the amateur technique. He’d never understood what Reagan had
seen in him, and it perplexed him even more as he watched this train wreck from
a distance.

As he neared, he
paused his determined stride just long enough to throw his strong arm around
the guy’s shoulders. “Hey buddy.” Ian enjoyed the look of sheer terror that
passed through Justin’s glazed eyes at the sound of his voice. “You and I need
to have a little talk.” And before he could respond, Ian dragged him forcefully
over the side and into the shadows of the club.

Using every bit
of his strength, he slammed Justin’s back up against the wall and grabbed the
front of his shirt. Practically lifting him off the ground, he snarled into his
face. “You’ve got some nerve coming here tonight, and bringing that trashy
whore with you.” It appeared as though Justin was going to stammer a reply, but
Ian didn’t give him a chance. Slamming his back into the wall again, he
continued, “You’re lucky I found you in a public place, and that I actually
care enough not to ruin Petra’s birthday. But I swear that if you so much as
even look in Reagan’s direction tonight, if you even
think
about going anywhere near her, I’ll put you in the hospital.
Now get your shit, and get out. And don’t make the mistake of showing up around
her anywhere again. We clear?”

“Is there a
problem over here?” A man dressed all in black, looking very much like a
pro-bodybuilder, was making his way over to them.

“No, no
problem.” Ian quickly released Justin, who slumped to his feet. The guy tossed
a wary glance at the bouncer as a bead of sweat rolled from his greasy head. But
wisely, he didn’t say a word. “He was just leaving, weren’t you?”

After thinking
it over a minute, Justin nodded his head. “Yeah, sure. I’m on my way out.”

Satisfied, Ian
adjusted his jacket, and left the matter to the more-than-capable professional.

By the time Ian
had rejoined the group of friends, a satisfied smirk spread across his lips,
the slightly drunk Derek had broken through the crowd and made his way over to
Petra. As he draped an arm around her shoulders, completely invading the
personal space she seemed to be coveting, he leaned in for a sloppy kiss, only
to get a hand of rejection to his face.

 
“Happy birthday babe.” He slurred,
seemingly undeterred.

“I’m not your
babe. Yet.” She corrected. Then looked to the group around her who was watching
on in amusement. “This is my new
friend
Derek.”
She began. “Derek, this is Ian, Sabrina, and Mike. Reagan you already know.” A
plea for help shot out from her eyes as they settled on Reagan, who couldn’t
help but smile at the show of affection.

But the smile
quickly faded. A face she’d only seen in pictures, and hoped never to see in
real life, had passed behind their group as the girl slinked her way to the
dance floor. In a flash of panic, Reagan felt the blood drain from her face as
she clutched Petra’s arm and pulled her closer.

“What is
she
doing here?” Though she was trying
her best not to make her resentment obvious to everyone else, she couldn’t help
but notice from the corner of her eye the look of concern Ian sent her as she
hissed into Petra’s ear. Trying to ignore it, she turned away just a little
more.

 
“I don’t know.” The confusion was as
evident in Petra’s voice as it was on her face. “I don’t recognize her. Who is
she?”

“You don’t
recognize her?” Reagan’s voice squeaked out in disbelief. “That’s the boyfriend
stealing slut who slept with Justin over spring break!”

“That’s
her
?” Petra’s jaw dropped at disbelief.
“What the hell is
she
doing here?”

“That was my
question.”

“Well, I didn’t
invite her. Not that it means much now,” Petra tilted her head as she
scrutinized every particle of the girl, “but you’re definitely cuter than her.
And better dressed. And rumor has it that they’ve already broken up, so that
should make you happy.” She offered a smile with the new information.

“What?”

“Yep. Couple of
days ago. Or so I’ve heard.”

“Why?” Reagan
wanted to know. No, not
wanted
to
know,
needed
to know. She needed to
know if Justin had been just as much of an ass to this new girl of his, or if
he’d reserved the behavior just for her. She wasn’t sure why, but somehow if he
were to blame again, it would make her feel better about her situation. Give
her something close to closure so she could confidently move on.

“She found
another guy.” Petra shrugged.

Well, it wasn’t
closure. But Reagan still allowed herself to feel a little satisfaction. “Karma.”
She decided.

Petra nodded in obligated
agreement and took another sip before turning back to her group.

The satisfaction
was short lived and soon forgotten, however, when the boyfriend stealing slut
sauntered over and laid her claws on a blonde hottie standing in close
proximity. That blonde hottie, Reagan noted when he turned to look over at the
interference, turned out to be none other than Brett Hanson.

“You’ve got to
be kidding.” Reagan murmured to herself, as she watched the interaction of the
girl whispering something in his ear, which he returned with a polite smile. To
her infuriation, she couldn’t make out the exact words being said, and while
she realized she was staring – maybe a little too intensely – her
curiosity was absolutely killing her.
It’s
not my problem, it’s not my problem, it’s not my problem
... she began
repeating to herself. And it wasn’t. She had Ian, someone who was not only one
of the most attractive guys on campus, but was also already one of her closest
friends. She didn’t want Brett. She didn’t need to get to know him now. Yet she
still got a certain amount of satisfaction out of watching him turn away from
her, and watching her pout off in another direction.

The fact that he
was even here showed fate must have an evil sense of humor. No, she corrected
herself. Not fate. There was absolutely no fathomable way that after a week of
tracking him down and checking off his qualities, fate would have plopped Brett
Hanson down in her lap like that. Well, in near proximity to her lap at least.
No, this could only be the doing of someone more devious, more conniving and –
above all - more loyal to her than fate. This had Petra’s handwriting all over
it, and she’d probably had it arranged since that first day at Blue Nickel.

“Petra,” She
pulled her friend close again, ignoring the conversation she’d just
interrupted. “Have you met him yet?” Reagan whispered.

“Him who?” Petra
was trying to push the tiara back into place as she spoke.

“
Him
him.” Pointing her finger right in
front of Petra’s face, both girls followed her lead.

“Oh.” Was all
she could say, but the look of guilt confirmed Reagan’s suspicions had been
correct.

“I’ll take that
as a yes.”

“This was my
backup plan for you.” She shrugged her apology. “In case you hadn’t worked up
the courage to meet him for yourself.”

“Oh my god.” The
groan escaped her before she could stop it.

“I didn’t
realize this thing with Ian was going to happen, and it’s not like I could
un
invite him. Sorry.”

As appreciative
as she was that Petra had gone to such lengths to help her, there was a little
twinge of something else in her gut she couldn’t quite place. “This could get
awkward.” Reagan decided.

“Maybe for you,
but not for him.”

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t know
you.”