on my crap. “Are you alright?” Chase looked down at me and I felt enveloped in his protective care. His hand slipped to my lower back and I instantly felt better in his bubble of white-knighthood. It was really nice to have someone stick up for me, to say something on my behalf. Even if he was a victim in all of this too.
“I’m not trying to be a douche,” Ryder said a little bit softer and he drew my attention back to him. I met his gaze from across the table and couldn’t help but fall just a little bit into his silver depths. “Sorry, Ivy. I wasn’t trying to pick on you.” He held me motionless from where he sat; I was more than a little bit paralyzed by the look of sincerity in his eyes. I could see that he felt bad for calling me out, but that was it. There was nothing else there, no hidden desire, no blatant interest, just apology. He was completely immune to me and suddenly every single one of my thoughts was wrapped up in Ryder Sutton and how the hell he could resist me.
“Hey, it’s fine,” I shook my head, breaking our stare down and searching for anything else to look at. Chase’s hand warmed my back, setting of anxious feelings of guilt and embarrassment for letting myself get so sucked into the vortex of Ryder’s self-control. I settled my gaze on one of my orange peels and began shredding it between my fingers, shrinking a little from these unfamiliar emotions.
“Sam Evans doesn’t think it’s fine,” Amber half shouted from across the table.
My head snapped up with her accusation. Instantaneously I was consumed with every negative, hateful emotion possible. “Shut your filthy mouth,” I growled, not caring that there was a captive audience surrounding me. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t you ever say his name again with that much disrespect.”
Chase’s hand became stiff and still on my back, his whole body rigid next to me. I felt wide eyes burning into me with intense surprise and curiosity. But I couldn’t explain. I couldn’t explain how it was my fault what happened to Sam and that I would have to live with the guilt and sin of that night.
“Did I hit a nerve?” Amber smirked pompously.
“You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. So I suggest you stop talking now,” I threatened in a low voice. My hands had started to tremble so I clenched them together and hid them beneath the table. My breathing stuttered and staggered in a worthless attempt to draw in oxygen. Black spots prickled my vision and I could only fear the impending breakdown that was swooping down on me between the flashes of horrific memories of that night.
“God, you’re such a bitch,” Amber’s voice bit out from somewhere beyond the craziness playing out in my head.
I felt Chase whisper against my ear, asking if I was alright, but I wasn’t capable of answering him at this point. It was all caving in on me, my control was slipping, my future was fading away….
“Who’s the bitch?” a strong voice cut through my haze and called Amber out on her bullshit. “Don’t start shit you know nothing about just because you’re jealous.”
I lifted my eyes to Ryder who was very effectively putting Amber in her place. Her face had paled and her eyes filled with tears at his admonition. I felt the shattered pieces of my soul start to mend themselves back together and I worked to pull in a full breath, filling my lungs and expanding my chest. Ryder turned back to me, his gaze softening, his eyes searching.
“She’s been trying to hook up with Chase for two years,” Ryder explained in a loud enough voice that I knew this was still directed at Amber. “She’s jealous of you.”
I nodded because that was all I was capable of. Ryder held my eyes for half a minute more before turning back to a stunned Kenna. He went back engaging her in conversation, giving her every ounce of his doting attention. Slowly quiet chatter grew around us and everyone at our table seemed to move on. I leaned into Chase, enjoying the strength of his chest against my back, relishing in the warmth of his body pressed against me.
I would survive this.
I had to.
Chapter Twelve
“Finally!” Sloane called from the top of her staircase when my mother and I walked into her midtown French