10. “He’s hot.”

TEN

“HE’S HOT.”

HARLOW

We get to the Chi Kappa house and I can already feel the panic in my stomach starting to build. I hate this new side of me. Yeah, this will be my first time back since the night of the injury, but shit used to not get to me like this.

Lenny takes my hand, holding it as we walk through the house. She flashes a bright smile at all the faces we pass. She hums various hi’ s and hey there's to multiple people until we end up near the bar in the back of the house by the pool.

I look around and feel like everyone’s eyes are on me. Is it because of what I’m wearing or because everyone knows what happened the last time I was seen at a party here? Lennon gets herself a glass of wine and water for me, then we settle into a spot, standing and watching as people start to arrive. She’s mindlessly talking to me about the rest of the week and what we should do this weekend since there isn’t a swim meet.

I’m trying to listen to her words but my mind is starting to wander back to the last time I was here. My eyes scan around me to the grand pool, the myriad of rock features, and then they lock with Beckett who’s standing across the way with a few other frat brothers. His eyes turn into slits and I can tell his grip is tightening on his drink, but what on earth could I possibly have already done wrong tonight?

“Harlow.” A voice behind me speaks softly and a shiver is sent down my spine.

“Oh my,” Lennon speaks before I do and I turn to understand both Beckett’s stare and Lennon’s comment.

Standing behind me is one tall, blue-eyed, lifeguard. Except, he isn’t a lifeguard at the moment. No, he’s a mouth watering sight, wearing an all-black suit, with a matching black button down underneath. I’m trying to find words but it feels like they are stuck in my throat. Another guy steps forward, with darker hair and dark eyes in almost the same outfit and breaks the silence by extending his hand in my direction. When he does, I notice a few tattoos peeking out on his forearm.

“Hi, I’m Wesley Porter, Shep’s best friend, but you can call me Wes.” I shake his hand while he finishes his introduction but I can’t help notice how he’s really looking at Lennon and not me.

“Harlow. Um, but you probably already knew that if you're Shep’s best friend.” Suddenly, I feel the gaze of Shep burning into me so I grab Lennon and push her forward. “This is Lennon, my best friend.”

“Geez, Low, bit rough there,” she says over her shoulder, giving me her famous side eye, but then promptly sticks her hand out in Wes’s direction. “Lennon, like she said. I think we have a class together?”

Wes’s face lights up and I can’t help feeling like Shep and I are now the ones who don’t belong in this conversation.

“That’s right,” Wes chimes back. “You’re on the swim team.”

“I am!” Lennon smirks. “A guy who does his research? Go ahead and take me home now!” She laughs but Wes’s face turns the most precious shade of pink.

“Oh gosh, she’s kidding. Lenny, please.” I blink in her direction with wide eyes, hoping she catches on to the awkwardness lingering in the air.

“What?” Lennon says under her breath. “He’s hot.”

I smile uncomfortably as Wes extends out his arm for Lennon to grab on. “Can I get you another drink?” He nods to her now empty wine glass. “I think these two have some things to discuss.”

Lennon giggles before slipping her arm through Wes’s and they wander off towards the bar again, but not before she can yell back over her shoulder for anyone nearby to hear, “Good luck!”

I try to laugh, but when I look at Shep his stare is locked on me. I feel the air being sucked from me and, for the second damn time in the span of a few minutes, I can’t seem to find words.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he states coolly. “I know today was hard for you and I’m not sure if it got any better based on some passing glares I’m receiving from your boy, Beckett, over there.”

I turn and face Beckett again who’s now withdrawn from his group and staring at Shep and me. My stomach knots up thinking about the conversation he and I had earlier at my apartment. I cannot have another confrontation with him so I try and pull a hail mary.

I push Shep away from me, dramatically enough that I notice Beckett’s eyebrows raise. “Seriously, you need to leave me alone.” I raise my voice a little now that I know Beckett is paying full attention.

Shep’s mouth drops open a little and he furrows his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I mean it. I don’t know why you keep talking to me but you need to stop. I’m here with Beckett.” I cross my arms and take a step away from him.

Please take the hint, Shep. Please.

Shep looks around and realizes Beckett is now walking in our direction. “Whatever, Harlow. Enjoy your evening.”

He turns to walk away and I can’t help but feel bad. I know he really does mean well, so I move to the front of him, hiding my face from Beckett and mouth, “I’m sorry.”

Shep moves away from me with an even more confused look on his face and I turn around and intercept Beckett, hoping my performance worked.

“Babe, I was starting to get worried you might be ditching me for Fords.” His voice is loud enough to cause Shep to turn his head back in our direction.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’ve had enough of this.

I interlace my fingers with Beckett’s and nod my head in the direction of the house. He grips my hand and we make our way inside towards the formal dining room. Once there, we duck off into a hallway when he grabs me by the waist pressing my back against the wall. I can’t discern the look on his face but I give him a soft smile.

“Hey, I’m sorry about that. I seriously don’t know what his deal is.” I kiss Beckett’s cheek and look up at him hopefully, but that hope is fleeting as I feel his hands tightening around my sides, his fingers pressing into the exposed part of my back. They squeeze tighter and it feels like my ribs are being crushed from behind.

“Beckett,” I choke out. From this angle, nobody would be able to tell what’s going on because it merely looks like a couple having an intimate moment against the wall. I try to push his hands off me with mine but he doesn’t react or move.

“Beckett,” I call again, but his eyes are darkening and it’s like his soul has left his body. “You’re hurting me.” His fingers are pressing so firmly into my skin, tears are springing to the edge of my eyes.

He finally speaks, his voice low and gravelly. “I thought I told you to leave Shep Fords alone.”

“Did you not hear me? Hear what I said to him?” I squeak out. My breathing is becoming raspy and I don’t know how long he’s had me in this hold now. “Beckett!”

At this point I'm entering fight or flight. T hink, Harlow. Think. I lift my heel ever so slightly before bringing it down on his foot.

“Shit!” he yelps as whatever dark trance he was in is now broken. I push him off of me and make a run for the closest bathroom, locking myself inside. I don’t even bother to turn on the light as I shrink further away from the door, running into the edge of a counter.

“Harlow?” I hear his voice calling out eerily. “Harlow, where are you?” I can hear his footsteps approaching but just as they stop by the door, someone calls out his name. “Yeah, be right there.” I hold my breath and pray that he gives up on his hunt for me. I close my eyes, thinking he’s gone but then I hear a low voice through the mere inch of wood, “We’ll talk later, Harlow.” Then he turns and walks away.

I can’t fight it anymore. I collapse to the ground, covering my mouth with my hand as I try to stifle the sob that’s now wracking through my body. How did things get this far?

After a minute or so passes, I gather the courage to stand up and turn the light on but my breath catches as pain radiates through my body. I look over my shoulder and my reflection in the mirror causes another sob to leave my mouth. On the middle of my back are two very distinguishable hand prints that are slowly changing from a bright red to a dark purple.

“I CAN’T DO THIS!” I scream, finally letting out all the emotions I’ve been harboring for what feels like the last few months. I slide down the wall, meeting the ground once again, and surrender to the ache in my chest. My shoulder, the fights with Beckett, the interactions with Shep, the judgment from Coach Bradford, all come crashing down on me. I feel like I can’t breathe.

I kick my legs out from under me and unclasp my heels, throwing them across the small room. As I lay my head back against the wall, tears streaming down my face, another realization hits me. There’s absolutely no way my swimsuit will cover up the bruises forming on my back. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

“I give up,” I say to myself, accepting the fact I’ll be spending the rest of the night here until I can find a moment to slip out without anyone noticing me, or Beckett’s handiwork.