“Hey, Al,” Cooper calls over her shoulder. “There’s a few stouts in here. You want one?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks though.”
“Really?” Cooper turns, brow raised. “You love a stout.”
“I’m not drinking tonight,” Alley says coolly.
My eyes shift to her. “Babe, if you’re not drinking because of me… you don’t have to do that. Seriously. Have a beer. I’m good.”
“No, babe.”She called me babe.She hasn’t called me that in months. “If you’re not drinking…” She shrugs. “Why would I?”
I shit you not—I think I just fell in love with my wife all over again.
I catch Scarlett rolling her eyes. “I’ll take one,” she says, throwing me a look as she stands and joins Cooper at the bar.
I take a deep breath, biting my tongue. If we were in New York, I’d say something. Have a come-to-Jesus moment with her. But I can’t do that here.
Cooper brings Ryan’s beer over and starts collecting empty bottles and glasses. “Jesus, babe. How drunk are you?”
“Pretty fucking drunk, babe. But whatever I’m doing—it’s working.” He nods at his mountain of chips, and she laughs, leaning down to meet his lips with a kiss.
Adam tosses his cards into the pile. “I’m out.” He stands and stretches. “Hey, Coop, I’ll take one of those beers.”
“And I will raise…” Alley says, counting her chips. “Seven. Because that’s all I have left.” She laughs, and Leo, Ryan, and I all match the bet before flipping our cards.
Ryan wins. Again.
“That was the last of my bloody chips,” Leo mutters, taking a long sip of his freshly poured whiskey.
“Damn. Me too.” Alley tosses her cards into the pile but stays put along with Leo.
“Don’t look now,” she whispers, nudging me, “but Scarlett may have found her next victim.”
I glance across the room. Adam’s on a stool, legs spread wide. Scarlett’s standing between them, her hand sliding along his bicep.
That’s Scarlett—being Scarlett.
My leg bounces under the table, anxiety pouring out of every limb.
“I don’t know why I never thought about them. God, they’d actually be so great together.” Alley’s grin stretches wide as her hand drops to my thigh, steadying it—steadying me. Like she knows what a mess I am inside.
I glance down at her, then smile. She always sees the best in people. She’s not noticing the fact that Scarlett’s practically auditioning to fuck Adam, or that she seems to loathe metonight. She just sees her friend, trying to find someone who makes her happy.
And she sees me. Nervous. Out of my element.
Trying.
I wrap my arm around her shoulder, give it a squeeze, and pull her close. I kiss her temple. “I love you,” I murmur, before I can stop myself. It just slipped out. But it’s what I feel. And I’m tired of holding it in. I love her too much not to say it.
She doesn’t say it back, but she smiles and laces her fingers through mine. My thumb strokes hers as Ryan deals the next hand. I’m almost out of chips, but I couldn’t care less. All that matters is that my wife is holding my hand. That she invited me here to be with her friends. She’s giving me a second chance…
Or fiftieth.
Four hands later, Ryan’s swept the table and I’m out. Everyone’s buzzed or drunk by now—except Alley and me. Early 2000s hip-hop plays over the speakers, and Vivian’s passed the video baby monitor off to Leo and is pouring herself another glass of wine.
The group’s scattered between the bar and the couches. I’m standing at the bar—with my fucking water—across from Ryan.
Tonight’s the first time I’ve met him, and he’s cool. He’s in tech, I’m in SaaS, and there’s a decent amount of overlap. Conversation’s been easy. He’s asked a lot of questions about me, what I do, even how things are going with Alley. He’s taken an interest, and I appreciate it more than I’d like to admit.
