“Are you going to drink that beer or nurse it all night?” Jace asks beside me, arching a brow when I blink over at him, like I forgot he was there.
“I’m drinking it,” I mutter, taking a tiny sip, only for my stomach to revolt.
Nothing is the same without Tatum.
Not football.
Or school.
Fuck, even beer sucks without her.
Chris snorts, then tips my glass into his empty one. “Sure ya are.”
“Dude, he just took your beer and you’re not even going to say anything?” Damon asks, eyeing my now-empty glass.
I shrug, not giving a shit. In fact, I wouldn’t even be here if West hadn’t practically dragged my ass out of the apartment.
“Be smart,” Jace says. “If you’re going to waste our bye week by wallowing, at least drown yourself in a pint of beer.”
“I’m just not feeling it.” I shrug.
The guys exchange a knowing look, and I sense a lecture coming on, so I pick up my phone and begin scrolling social media before they have a chance to lay into me about moving on and letting her go, and all the other bullshit expressions I’ve heard a thousand times before.
“Come on man, you’ve gotta move on,” Damon says.
Here we go . . .
“You can’t keep holding out for a girl who’s made it very clear she wants a life with someone else.”
“Like you moved on from Avery all those years ago?” I snap.
“That was different.”
“Oh,really.How exactly was that different?”
Damon’s mouth pinches, and the table falls silent as I return my attention back to my phone in search of Tatum’s latest viral post, excited to see how many views she’s gotten. Last I checked, it was at over a million views, and I don’t even care if stalking her stats makes me a sad motherfucker. I’m too proud of her not to.
But when I navigate to her page, the post is nowhere to be found.
I frown and exit the app, then re-enter it, thinking there must be a glitch, only to find it’s still absent from her profile.
I glance up from the screen, brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would a post on TikTok just disappear?”
“Since when areyouon TikTok?” Jace arches a brow, eyeing me over the rim of his beer.
“Notme—Tate.”
Chris leans back in his seat. “You’re stalking her social media now?”
“It’s not like that. I’ve been following her for years,” I grumble. “And right now, it’s the only way I have to check on her and make sure she’s okay.”
“And is she okay?” West asks.
“Hell if I know. Sheseemsokay in her posts.” I frown. “It’s not like she’s going to break down on camera and admit her boyfriend is a controlling handsy ass.”
Damon snorts. “Good point.”
“But what’s that have to do with a missing post?” Jace asks. “And should we be worried you’ve memorized them to the point of knowing when one’s gone missing?”
