Pissed off, I chugged the rest of my beer and slammed the bottle down harder than I intended on the warped wooden table before heading back inside.

The sounds and smell and heat of the party washed over me and assaulted all of my senses. The buzz in my head and veins seemed to instantly cross the threshold of tipsy into drunk. Tyler had moved a bit farther into the room; I spotted him talking to a girl whose dress revealed more skin than it covered.

My heart constricted a bit as Amber's words came back to me. The girl was making no secret of her interest. She continuously ran her fingers through her hair like she had a tic and leaned forward more than necessary to talk in Tyler's ear so her cleavage was on display more than it already was. People passed in front of me as I watched, so the scene was stuttered like the two of them were caught in a strobe light.

She touched his arm. Her lips were at his ear. Fingers through her hair. Tugging her dress down further. Was I imagining it, or did he take a step back to put an arm's width of distance between them? Did I see her pout at his lack of return or was it wishful thinking?

The conversation with Amber echoed through my mind again like a bad song stuck on replay and my stomach churned. Resigned, I made to walk around the room in search of Vanessa when I stopped myself.

"No," I thought. "Amber is right."

I turned on my heel and walked purposefully over to Tyler and the girl.

"Sorry to interrupt," I said, flashing the two of them a winning smile. "But he owes me a dance." I winked at the girl who scowled as I took Tyler's hand and led him to where people had moved furniture to form a makeshift dance floor.

"Thanks for saving me," he said, grinning at me. I smiled in answer, but inside I was elated.

Alcohol gave me the extra nudge of confidence I needed to place his hands on my waist. My shirt didn't quite reach the waistband of my jeans so his fingers skimmed along the skin of my hip bones. A little thrill of desire went through me as our bodies moved together in time with the fast-paced music.

"You're beautiful," he murmured into my hair. A delicious shiver went through me as his teeth grazed my ear. I tipped my chin up so I could kiss him over my shoulder. Our lips connected in a rush of heat, and I opened my mouth slightly to run the tip of my tongue along his lower lip. He still tasted like cinnamon; sweet and hot at once.

His fingertips pressed into my waist. The slight increase in pressure was enough to turn the thrill of desire into an ache that spread across my navel. A bead of sweat trickled down the nape of my neck from the heat of the party, the heat of our bodies, the heat of our mouths still moving together.

My heat pounded in my chest, but for the first time in forever, it was pounding from exhilaration.

I wasn't a virgin, having had my first time with Chris the summer before our senior year of high school. It had been a Tuesday night, while we were fooling around on the couch in his basement with a movie on TV playing in the background and rain drumming against the windows. Neither of us had planned it; it just sort of happened. We had been clumsy and awkward back then, but it had been sweet, the way we had learned one another's bodies.

So it wasn't the idea of sex itself that bothered me as I continued kissing Tyler—it was why I wanted it.

Was it because I wanted to forget Danny, and Tyler was the perfect distraction? Was it because I wanted to get back at Chris? Or was it because I actually wanted him? It didn't help that the music had changed into a slower, more sexual song.

The onslaught of these thoughts, which my drunken mind couldn't handle in the background, made me stop kissing Tyler, though we continued to dance. But I couldn't have said what it was that made me look up at the front door at that moment.

It had been opening and closing all night with people coming and going. This time it opened to admit a group of four guys with thirty-racks perched on their shoulders like old-school stereos. In the dim light, it was hard to make out their faces. The one in front stooped to place his beer on the ground and as he stood up, one of the lights threw his features into sharp relief. It was the guy who had assaulted Amber.

I stepped away from Tyler and began frantically searching the crowd. The only thought I could process was that I had to find her before he did.

"What is it?" asked Tyler, catching the look of panic on my face.

"It's him," I said, pointing to the guy. Instantly, Tyler's face darkened; I had never seen him look so angry—or so frightening.

"That son of a bitch," he said, starting towards him, hands curling into fists.

"No!" I cried, putting a hand to his chest. "We need to find Amber before we do anything." As the words left my lips, I spotted her dancing with some other girl on the sofa.

"Go find Vanessa and Kevin and explain," I said, shoving him towards the kitchen before plunging into the crowd.

People cursed at me as I shoved them aside, throwing sharp elbows at those who didn't move fast enough; it seemed to take an eternity to cross the living room. The music was too loud, the bodies too close, the sweat on my neck and arms cold and clammy. Finally, I made it to the side of the couch, ducking the other girl's arms as she swayed back and forth. I tugged on the hem of Amber's dress, but when she didn't look at me, I grabbed her wrist and all but yanked her off the couch. I steadied her as she stumbled in her heels.

"What the hell was that for?" she snapped. She smelled of booze and her eyes were glassy.

"He's here," I said breathlessly.

"Who—" Amber began, but she must have read the answer in my eyes. Her face turned the color of sour milk and her gaze started darting around the room.

"What do you want to do?" I asked.

"Where is he?" she demanded, not seeming to hear me. A fight or flight instinct seemed to be waging war inside of her.

I looked over my shoulder. The guy had detached himself from the group he arrived with and was talking to another girl leaning against a wall. Their faces were only inches apart; one of his hands was perched on the wall behind her so he could have an excuse to lean in close.

I turned back in time to see Amber drop her flask, which clattered to the floor, empty. An emotion I couldn't name was carved into her features. A feral kind of fear. She shouldered past me as though she had forgotten I was there, but she wasn't headed for the door. She was angling straight for him.

I followed in her wake, afraid of her intentions, not knowing if I should grab her hand again and lead her towards the door. Brushing past other party-goers, she drew level with the pair who didn't notice her until she tapped the girl on the shoulder.

The attacker's eyes narrowed when he recognized Amber.

"I just wanted to let you know that he is the scum of the earth," Amber said, jerking a thumb at the guy but pointedly not looking at him. "And I hope for your sake you don't change your mind if you end up going back with him. He doesn't take 'no' for an answer."

Confusion flickered across the other girl's face, but Amber didn't give more of an explanation before turning on her heel and walking away.

I knew I should go after her, but the bruise on my side throbbed watching something almost like smugness ease the guy's features as he watched Amber disappear.

"She might not want to report you, but she wasn't the only one there that night," I said, just loud enough for him to hear me.

He turned his glare on me, having not realized I followed Amber over. "Who are you?" he asked. He stepped closer and I stiffened.

I had never gotten a good look at his face during the fight. He was a stereotypical pretty boy, glossy brown hair, smoldering blue eyes, full lips girls would fall over themselves to touch. His clothes carried the aura of their designers and emphasized all the good angles of his body.

But as he stood over me, trying to intimidate me with his beer-laced breath, I saw the person underneath the attractive exterior; the glint in his eye that expected instant gratification, the stance of his body that spoke of assumed power, the flexing in his hands as though he wanted to swat me aside like a fly. I held my ground, the throbbing in my side fueling my anger.

"I know who you are." He snorted, an ugly smirk lifting the left side of his face. "Yeah, she told me about you. You're her crazy roommate. It doesn't matter what you say, no one will believe you anyway."

Ouch. It stung a bit to think about Amber telling stories about me. Calling me crazy. I shoved my feelings aside. I couldn't afford to let my guard down. Not with him, not with him so close.

"I don't have to say anything," I said. I lifted the side of my shirt just enough so that he could see the fading bruise spread across my rips and hip like a bleeding tattoo.

"You don't even know my name," he sneered. But, for the first time, I saw something like fear in his eyes.

"She does," I said, jerking my thumb over my shoulder in the direction Amber had gone. "She doesn't have to tell her story for me to tell mine. Old-fashioned assault is still a crime."

My voice came out braver than I felt.

"You attacked me," he said, stepping even closer so we were nearly chest to chest. I resisted the urge to spit in his eye. Was this how Amber felt? I wondered. Staring up at someone who saw you as something they could control. "Besides, it's still your word against mine."

"And mine," said Tyler, appearing at my shoulder. The atmosphere shifted with his presence. The guy backed up half a step once he placed Tyler's face, clearly remembering the blow to his jaw. Kevin drew level on the other side of me.

Vanessa was nowhere to be seen; I could only hope she was with Amber.

Now, undisguised nerves created an even uglier expression on the attacker's face. He was outnumbered and cornered against a wall. Around us the party continued unawares, but the air in our corner felt as taught and electrified as a powerline.

"I think it would be best if you left," I said with as much disgust and venom as I could muster. "Unless you rather I call the cops."

"We'll show you out," added Kevin, angling his body towards the door.

The guy's eyes flickered between the three of us, sizing us up as though he was considering a fight, before he gave me one last dirty look and stalked past. Kevin trailed close behind him.

As I watched him recede into the crowd, I grabbed Tyler's hand to stop him from following, just in case. But I continued to hold onto him to anchor myself as a wave of dizziness hit me in the chest like a fist. I watched Kevin slam the door behind the attacker, and finally exhaled a breath I didn't know I had been holding in.

_______________________________________________________

Yikes! So what do you guys think? Was it realistic/a good idea for Amber to confront him? Do you think Dash did the right thing? What do you think will happen now?

This was another chapter I had to write a few times to try and get it right, so any feedback would be really helpful! Again, I want to portray situations as realistically as possible and I would love to know what you guys thought. Any little thing helps.

Thank you so much again to everyone who has kept reading. It means the world to me :)