No, he didn’t fucking tell me because we don’t talk. I give Ripley such a horrific scowl that he bites his bottom lip.

“You’ll pay for this,” I mutter into his ear.

“Come on, we’re all together again,” Brody says. “Now let’s go, I need a drink.”

I stare at Blade who is staring at me, and the air is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Aria,” Peyton chirps.

I nod, forcing out. “You too.”

“Aria,” Blade says, his voice low and husky.

“Blade.”

Melanie is looking between us, then she takes my hand and announces loudly, “Did anyone invite Yates?”

Clever, Mel.

Ripley shoots her a look and she flips him the bird.

“Who’s Yates?” Peyton asks.

“Her boyfriend,” Melanie says. “He’s going to be a doctor.”

I swear Blade’s face gets so tight he looks as if he just sucked a damned lemon. I scurry past them, dragging Melanie with me. We climb into the big car, right up the back. Blade gets in the front, and I don’t miss him glancing at me in the rearview mirror. Peyton gets in the front too, and everyone else piles in. Then we’re on our way.

Ripley turns to me; he’s a seat in front. “Don’t be so bitter. You know you want to high five me right now.”

“What I want,” I whisper, “is to punch you in the nuts.”

He grins. “You’ll thank me for it later.”

“No,” I assure him. “I won’t.”

“Hey Blade,” I say loudly. “I’d like to pick up my boyfriend. Can you swing past his house?”

The whole car goes silent. I don’t want to be alone tonight, watching Blade and Peyton, and living in the past. I need Yates, and I need to make sure this is the one and only night I see Blade.

“Fine,” Blade grinds out tightly. “Where does he live?”

I give him the address and fifteen minutes later, we’re out the front of his flash apartment. I climb out of the car, assuring them I won’t be long. I run up to the front door and knock. Yates opens it a minute later, and stares down at me. “Holy hell, you look gorgeous, Ari.”

I smile. “We’re all going out. I wanted to see if you would come?”

“We?” he asks.

“Yeah, my step-brothers and Melanie, plus my, ah, oldest step-brother is in town.”

Yates face lights up. “Great, I’d love to meet him. Give me five.”

Five minutes later, Yates comes out wearing a pair of jeans, thank god, and a black sweater. Over top he has a stylish leather jacket.  He actually looks really good. I take his hand and we walk to the car. When we’ve climbed in, I lean forward and say, “Blade, Peyton, this is my boyfriend Yates.”

Blade turns and extends his hand, but I swear, if looks could kill, Yates would be dead. “Blade,” he says, taking Yates hand. He obviously squeezes it hard because Yates’ face goes tight and he mutters, “Yates.”

God.

“Hi Yates,” Peyton calls. “I’m Peyton.”

No shit, Sherlock.

“Nice to meet you, Peyton.”

With those charming introductions out of the way we get going towards the club. This should prove to be an interesting night.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Vodka orange!” I yell over the music.

I’m pumped. Melanie, Peyton and I have been dancing like maniacs for the past two hours. I won’t lie, dancing with Peyton is somewhat awkward, but it isn’t her fault Blade is a dick. Now we’re having a drink stop.

“Make that two,” Melanie yells to the bartender.

She then turns to me with sweat trickling down her brow. “So, talk, how are you feeling?”

“Drunk.” I laugh.

She gives me a look and I sigh. “I’ve moved on, Mel. It’s fine.”

“Didn’t look like that. To me it looked like your heart ripped out all over again.”

I shrug. “Shit happens. I’m coping and that’s all that matters, right?”

“Right,” she says, dragging that word out. “’Cause it’s not awkward bonding with Peyton.”

I snort. “You’re right about that.”

“Ladies.”

We both spin around to see Blade leaning over the bar. He flashes us both a killer smile and my knees threaten to go out from beneath me. Melanie leans in, “I’m going to dance. Bring my drink.”

Then she rushes back out to the dance floor. Horrible, horrible friend.

“Nice dress.”

I ignore Blade. I have nothing to say to him.

“Not even going to talk to me?”

The bartender slides me the drinks and I take mine, sipping it.

“Come on, Aria. Seriously?”

I turn and glare at him. “You did it again; you fucked me and left me. Then you chose not to speak to me for an entire fucking year. So, yeah, seriously.”

He frowns. “Thought leaving it would help you get over it.”

I laugh bitterly. “Gosh you’re arrogant. Don’t flatter yourself. In case you didn’t notice, I moved on.”

He snorts. “What? To the dude who is so fuckin’ prissy I want to take his head and rub it in the dirt just to rough him up a bit?”

“Watch it,” I growl. “At least I’m not dating fantastic plastic over there.”