The hallway leading to the restrooms was crowded. I stopped short. I spotted them kissing outside the men’s room.
Regge was against the wall. Tall, dark, and slutty was looming over him, his mouth slobbering over his neck. My Regge. The music became dull thunder in my ears. People jostled me out of the way.
His hands were looped around Jason’s neck as his chin tilted up. Jason whispered into his ear, hands roaming over Regge’s hips, reaching back to cup his ass.
A guy shoved me out of his way. “Dude, make way, I gotta piss.”
I was frozen. A steady line of traffic kept obscuring my view.
“Regge?”
He shouldn’t have heard me, but there was a lull in the music, and his name slotted right into that space.
Regge’s gaze was wide open when he looked at me. Jason was intent and focused on his goal, his big thigh pressing in between Regge’s legs. I could only stand there like an idiot and watch while my entire vision of the future got sucked away.
Before he moved, I turned and jogged back out onto the floor, passing Marco and Henry on my way to the exit.
“HB!” Regge caught up with me on the sidewalk. I kept walking. I couldn’t leave him—I was his ride. He wasn’t familiar with the city or rideshares or the metro. But I had to get out of that club.
His hand touched my arm. “HB, wait. I’m sorry.”
I pulled away. “Don’t be. That’s why I brought you, right? To get out in the world. Be yourself.”
My own words hit me. What had I been doing? Instead of helping him be independent, learn his way around, I’d kept him close. Playing video games, working at the same bar, hanging with our little group of friends, falling for him, I supposed.
“That wasn’t me,” he whispered.
“Sure looked like you.”
“I mean, it was, but—”
“What? Did he force himself on you?” His forehead scrunched, but he shook his head. My jaw popped because I ground my teeth so hard. “Because when someone says they’re still grieving, they don’t hook up with the first rando who looks at them.” My tone sizzled now. Little jealous Mentos in a Coke bottle, fizzing to the top. “You told me Charlie was your everything. You couldn’t—” My voice cracked.
“I know.” His voice carried over the few smokers watching us from the door.
“You said you weren’t ready. But that’s not true, is it? You just weren’t ready for me.”
Well, that was it. If he hadn’t known how I felt before, he did now. And he didn’t care. My feelings nearly splattered over the sidewalk—a sticky mess of emotions and too much alcohol.
“Hunter.” His hand reached out. His voice was that of a weary parent, not a guilty lover.We weren’t lovers, my brain screamed at me. I should get over it.
I slid away from his hand. “Can you get home? You have money for a cab?”
He looked stunned for a moment. Wild-eyed, abandoned. My heart lurched. I was being a brat. I almost saidnever mind, I’ll hang out, wait for you. Orlet’s go home.
Then he straightened, his green eyes blazing. His chin came up as he spat out the next words.
“I survived the streets of London as a lad. I can bloody well find my way as a grown man in Philadelphia.” He twisted the knife. “I’m most sure that Jason will see me home.”
My throat burned as I forced out the words. “Good. Have fun. Have the fucking time of your life.” I turned away.
“Fine,” he shouted after me. “Don’t wait up.”
THE HERE AND NOW
Chapter One
Hunter on seeing the future and still being late
