Best Friends with the Heartbreaker

"Where's Jace?" the blonde airhead demanded in exasperation when she hurried over after spotting me through the mist of the crowd. I rolled my eyes. Did she honestly need to ask? "I don't know," I bit out. Brett Holloway grabbing a feel a few minutes earlier had already soured my mood, and staring at the cliche version of the school's most popular girl, who only acknowledged me when she was hunting for my best-friend, wasn't helping. "He said he was heading to the bathroom," she went on like I hadn't spoken, then bit down on her over-painted rose red lips. I smirked because I knew exactly what was going on. Jace had spotted someone hotter than the girl in front of me, said he needed the bathroom, and was probably making out with a hotter girl, either in the bathroom or in one of the seven rooms at Nico Barrett's mansion. "If you spot him, tell him I'll be outside grabbing some air," she said, then vanished back into the crowd again. I raised my spiked cola and took a swallow, the burn of it spreading while the alcohol worked through my system. Jace, Jace, Jace. What the hell was I gonna do with you? I asked myself while sneaking a glance at the stainless steel clock hanging on the... wall. 11:49 pm. He ought to be down any second. He was my ride home, after all, and he knew I had a midnight curfew. Jace Harmon. My best-friend from way back in our nappy days. My screwed up friend who didn't know the first thing about commitment. The school's player. That label had dumped me in more nasty situations than I cared to count. He'd flirt with one girl, sleep with her, then hook up with her best friend the day after. Fun, right-not- while I got stuck cleaning his messes. 'No, sorry, Jace isn't available right now.' 'Yeah, he's really sorry.' 'No, Jace got too drunk.' And my personal favourite, 'Jace up and moved to Switzerland.' I've cleaned up more disasters than I can count. That's me. Savannah Cole. No joke. That's my name, and don't start running your mouth teasing me over sharing a name with that jolly white-haired old guy circling the world in one night doling out free shit. My stupid name would've made me stand out in any room, but tack on being friends with Jace and everybody recognized me, if they didn't already know my name. I was the girl every other girl envied for being so close to the guy every girl and even a few guys wanted. In seven minutes I was about to be the girl grounded until she hit thirty. 11:53 pm. Shit, Jace. Where the hell were you? Making out with an airhead, idiot! I answered myself. I pulled out my phone and started typing a text to mom. Might be a little late. Sorry- "Sorry, sorry, sorry, Sav," my best-friend hollers before he comes stumbling down the stairs, still obviously tugging his black polo shirt into place. I glare at him. I could see why girls fell for him. I wasn't blind, y'know. Dark curls fell in a messy but ridiculously attractive way. Blue eyes that could make anybody melt, and a killer body mostly hidden by the shirt clinging to his toned waist and the low-riding jeans he'd clearly dragged on in a rush. He catches sight of me through the crowd and makes his way over as people part for him. He flashes a 100-watt grin, dimples showing up right on cue. "Sorry, Sav. I had business to handle," he says apologetically. "I can tell." My gaze drifts to a brunette with bedroom eyes whose make-up and clothes are in total disarray, her hair doing nothing to hide that she'd been completely swallowed by lust a few minutes ago. Jace doesn't even bother glancing behind him. That's his M.O, anyway. Once he's had you, or you've had him, for a night, you turn invisible again no matter how hot you are. "Forgive me?" He throws on his own brand of puppy dog eyes, somehow a whole lot sexier and a lot more effective than the regular kind. "Pass me the Jag keys and we'll call it even," I say, holding out my hand and hoping like crazy he'd actually give them up. A scowl crosses his face. "Love you and all, Sav, but nobody drives the Jag except me." Dammit! "Couldn't hurt to try, right?" I head for the front door after flicking another quick look at the clock. 11:56 pm. "Move it, Jace! You've got less than three minutes to get me back home or I'll slice off a particular anatomy of yours while you sleep. So the Jag better make it." "You wound me, Sav. Like the Jag wouldn't make it!" He hurries after me, ignoring the yells chasing him. "Besides," he says with a smirk as he comes up beside me, "you love me far too much to ever do anything to my prized member." He presses a kiss to my cheek and climbs into his car, leaving me out in the cold night. My breath catches and the smile that had been on my face seconds ago vanishes. If only you had any idea how right you were.