“It’s not a good look.” Harper doesn’t bother hiding her disappointment in me.
“You’re right.” I take a deep breath as we head out with the crowd. “Maybe it’s time for me to drool someplace else.”
Doubt it’s possible. And then I remember how much Grant hated it when I drooled over Rush—not that it was genuine—more like bad advice from Daisy.
Or was it good advice? Grant kissed me in a heated craze after Rush put on the moves. Maybe this time I’ll put on the moves. Maybe this time I’m not gunning for a kiss.
Maybe I just want Grant to feel as miserable as I do.
Grant
Headingto Beta house after a victory like that usually means a party is in order. Hell, a party is in order no matter what the outcome, but tonight, the last game for a few weeks, I know it’ll be big. Big is a good thing, especially when Darcy is headed back to the house with me—the more bodies to hide her presence with. In all honesty, I didn’t think I’d see Ava at the game. If I knew she would have been there, I would have never invited Darc. But she’s back in town and asked to hang out. I thought the game was platonic enough—enough in general, but she’s insistent to see the inside of my frat house again.
“I would have never pegged you for a frat boy.” She marvels as we head into Beta. “The boy I knew was on the fast track to becoming a gaming geek, content to live out of his parents’ basement.”
I can’t help but laugh as we move through the crowd already in the commons room to greet us. “I would have. You know me well.”
“So, what’s with Grant 2.0?” She glances down to my crotch, and my discomfort level rises. “Is everything about you free and loose these days?” She stares me down as she waits for the answer.
Darcy may not be the only girl I’ve slept with, but I was her first and her last. I’m not too surprised by her sense of entitlement when it comes to who I might be entertaining on my mattress.
“Maybe,” I say, snatching a soda off the refreshment table and handing it to her. Anything to keep the conversation from progressing.
“So—like maybe there’s a girl out there you’re interested in?” She searches the crowd as if she might spot someone, and I do the same, only my eyes snag on the exact girl I was hoping to find on my mattress.
Ava wraps her arms around Rush and shakes her head at him. Granted she looks like she’s having a miserable time, she is holding him. From this angle, it looks one-sided, as if she’s anchoring him down, and something deep inside of that corrosive heart of mine dies a little more.
Shit. All this time Rush has assured me he was just being a friend, being there for her when she needed someone, holding her up for me because he knew I couldn’t.
I don’t like that I couldn’t, but at the moment, especially for those first few days, that was true to an extent. It’s hard to look at her. My eyes drag across her features, slow as Sunday, and every inch of her ratchets up that ache in my chest a little bit more. I’ve never felt pain this alive, pain this visceral. It’s different than losing Stephanie. Death has a way of forcing you to compartmentalize it. With Ava, it’s as if she died and is living out some alternative reality right alongside me—without me, of course. I want her to. I want her to be happy, to have love, and laugh once again. I just don’t want her to have those things with Rushford Knight, asshole extraordinaire.
“So Grant”—Darcy steps in front of me and lands her arms over my waist—“now that we’ve kept our distance for almost six solid months, what do you think?” She rocks us side to side like we’re dancing. Her teeth graze over her lower lip in that flirtatious way she likes to do just before she kisses me, and something inside me demands to bolt. “You think we can give this thing another whirl?”
I glance over her shoulder at Ava, and our eyes lock from across the room. Ava with Rush, me with Darcy. Is that the way it’s really supposed to be? I was never great at saying goodbye. Maybe we could have worked out. I could have manned up—been nice to her. It wasn’t her fault. But goodbye is one thing I didn’t get to say to Steph. Ava’s own sister took away that right from us—and now I’m right back to bitter. Nope. Ava wouldn’t want me in this state. I don’t know if I could ever leave it. I’m beyond repair in many ways, and as strong as I feel for her, I don’t know if I could ever turn off the flood of hatred I feel toward Aubree Vincent. If I did—what would that mean? It would marginalize Steph’s death, make it passible on some level. Nope. Forgiveness isn’t where this train is headed.
Ava nods to something Rush says to her, and now he’s looking my way, too.
I spin Darcy around until she’s facing them, forcing Ava to see that I’ve moved on, even if it isn’t true. Ava can’t have me. I can’t have her. Some things can never work out together, and we happen to be two of them.
“Is that a yes?” Darcy’s eyes flicker with hope, and my gut churns because in no way did I mean to give it to her.
“That’s a—”
“Maybe?” Her head cocks to the side as she does her best to plead. “I’ll take that. Don’t say another word about it. The last thing I want is you changing your mind!” She hikes up and lands a kiss to my cheek.
Crap. I step back and catch Ava looking away. My intention was never to hurt Ava. And I’m pretty sure making her watch Darcy hang all over me is doing just that.
I lead Darcy to the back near the pool table, and we make small talk about life in The Hills,the good old daysshe calls them. I want to remind her that I lost my sister in those “good old days.” My family is a skeleton of what it once was. But I know Darcy is talking about us—our good old days. Little does she know they were never that great. I was going through the motions even then, too tired, too lost and in shock over my home life to figure out how to exit a mind-numbing relationship.
“We were good friends,” I remind her.
Darcy cuts a dry smile. Her entire affect stiffens as if I’ve poured fish guts over her selective memory party.
“You were a lousy friend.” She makes a face. It’s true. I never did a lot of talking. I was probably a lousy listener, too. “But you were good in bed, and that’s worth a thousand unreturned phone calls.” Her finger glides over my lips, and there it is, the invite she’s been holding just out of reach all night.
A moment thumps by, and I’m pretty sure that signals to her I’m considering this. In truth, the only thing I’m considering is how to make it clear to her that we’re over without getting my eyes clawed out. Not that Darcy is the eye clawing type, but there’s a desperation about her. She’s wearing its scent thick like perfume.
“I’m going to head to the restroom. I’ll be right back.” I duck out of the room and lose myself in the crowd. Maybe I should get back together with Darcy. Give it one more try. After Ava who is there really? Maybe Ava simply woke up something that’s been asleep in me for so long. She kick-started my heart, and now maybe it’ll work for Darcy, too.
