Losing Her by Mariah Dietz Page A

hours into the party I realized I was wrong. You’ll probably roll your brown eyes at me to know I thought it might encourage her to come over if I could find a girl to talk to Jameson. Men generally pick up their game if there’s competition when they’re truly interested. It took getting to know you for me to realize jealousy and competition don’t create a healthy love. It’s a natural emotion, but it’s not something that should ever be used as a pawn.
    I was scanning the dance floor for a prospective girl when Brock walked up to me with a shit-faced grin.
    “I heard some girls talking about riding the Max train tonight. I had to come find out if it was true!” He clasped my hand in his and slapped my back with the other. “I can’t believe these girls still think your shit don’t stink! Rub some of that bullshit mojo magic on me, player.” He took my hand and rubbed it on his chest, making me laugh even though I sincerely loathed the sentiment. I didn’t know at that time you were just as lost as me, but rather than hopping from one person to the next, hoping one would make you feel something different, something that made you want to commit to someone like I did, you did it by staying in the same relationship, waiting to feel something more.
    “Gentlemen, it’s nice to see you both here.”
    I turned to see Nathan Hudson approaching, and frowned. Even before I knew you hated him, I loathed the guy. He could be such a cocky bastard and I hadn’t consumed nearly enough alcohol to listen to him discuss who he planned to sleep with, and who he already had.
    “Check it out. Baby Bosse is here.” You know I can get agitated over stupid things, but even before I loved you, I felt protective over you. I turned to gaze over my shoulder and caught sight of your bright yellow jeans, making it easy for me to follow you. “I’m so getting in her pants tonight.” You’ll be impressed to hear he said these words to me and I didn’t level him.
    “What’s up, Baby Bosse? How are you doing, Ace?” You smiled at him. He could have told me the winning lottery numbers and I wouldn’t have known because I was so distracted. You see, you’ve always been more difficult than others for me to read. For starters, you’ve had a lot of practice placating people—I just wasn’t aware of how fluent you were. I don’t think even you were. And then there’s your mouth. The way your lips curve, and the different variances of your smile that are so slight and yet so significant. Maybe that’s what misled me. Maybe your eyes held a warning and I just never paid enough attention because your mouth was always my favorite distraction. I hated that you smiled at him. I hated it more that it made me question myself.
    “It’s good.” Your words broke me from my thoughts and when my eyes left your mouth, I saw you looking at me. Your eyes didn’t hold mine; they never had on the few occasions we caught each other’s attention growing up. I had no idea what he’d asked you. Your words took several seconds to process as I tried to gain my footing with all the noise and commotion happening around us. God, do you remember how loud that place was?
    “How are things going with Eric? Where’s he at tonight?” I strained to hear your reply over my ensuing thoughts and the commotion, because if I had been completely honest with myself, I’d mentioned this party to Jameson, hoping he’d insist on coming so I could see if you were here with him. I’m not sure what I would have done if he’d followed you through the door that night.
    “Dude, did you see Claymore? She’s gotten hot! And her new rack, man, I want to bury my face in it!” Javier’s laugh was too loud as his scrawny arm slid around my shoulders. “Come on, you have to see this.”
    I wasn’t about to move. I don’t know that I actually sensed your hatred for him at that point, or if it was still my own desperation to learn more about you, but there was no