My heart thumps. Turns over, inside my chest. “Yep.”
“Then I’ll wait for you.”
He says it so easily. But his words settle around my shoulders like a warm blanket.
“Careful,” I say teasingly, clearing my throat. “I’m starting to think that you and I might be friends, Jared Bennett.”
I offer him a smile to hide the pounding of my pulse.
I’m holding my breath. Behind me, someone shouts to be served, but I don’t move.
He doesn’t look away.
“Yeah, Emilia,” Jared says roughly. “We’re friends.”
I can feel myself smiling. “Okay then.”
38
Jared
Friends.
I watch as she turns away. There’s a slight flush in her face as she tucks her hair back behind her ear, darting another glance at me before she hurries over to the impatient girl waiting for a drink.
Forcing myself to listen to the music, I work my way through a few more beers.
And Emilia is… skittish.
Awkward. Fumbling, nearly spilling the beer she hands me on her next pass.
I grab for the bottle at the same time, my fingers wrapping around hers before I release them with a mumbled apology.
I can be friends with Emilia.
I can.
Ben asked me. He asked me to take care of her. To watch over her.
He didn’t ask you to look at her like that, asshole.
Fuck.
I slide off my stool. I’ve drunk more than I realized, and I stumble, bumping into a stool as I make my way to the restroom. Running the water until it’s cold, I toss several handfuls over my face and stare into the cracked glass of the tiny mirror.
She’s not for you.
My hands grip the edges of the discolored porcelain sink.
If he was here, I wouldn’t feel like this. This weird, fucked up, unsettled sensation that lingers in my chest every time I look at her.
If Ben was still here, there wouldn’t even be a question of looking at my brother’s girl. Not in a million lifetimes.
So why the fuck are you looking now? Because he’s not here to stop you?
Guilt settles in my stomach like a stone as I make my way back to my seat. When Emilia glances over, I don’t meet her gaze, ordering my drinks from Carla instead until she cuts me off.
“No more.” Carla eyes me. “You’re going to fall off that stool. I’ll get you some water.”
