“It was great,” she over emphasizes.
She watches me for a moment, but I have no clue what to say next or how to proceed. This is not exactly the welcome I expected. After a moment, her eyes meet someone else across the room.
“Excuse me, Noah,” she says angrily and pushes past me to talk to whoever caught her eye.
Okay, what the hell was that? Who the fuck is this new woman and what did she do with the one I love? More than that, why is she so upset? And what the fuck is with the cold shoulder? Shouldn’t I be the pissed one here?
I make my way over to the private bar, which includes its own personal bartender. Normally, I try to stick with beer at parties, but tonight I feel like bourbon.
Ordering two double shots, I pause briefly before shooting back the first. Taking a deep breath, I take the second quickly. Shooting it back, I feel better the more the liquid burns going down my throat.
Looking back at Eva, her furious gaze meets mine. She looks slightly confused, a little sad, and still obviously very mad at something I can’t for the life of me figure out. Returning my attention back to the bar, I order another. I take it hungrily and feel the tension that has built during the last twenty-four hours slowly start to fade away.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Eva
Noah has now royally succeeded in totally pissing me off. First, it was his awkward and delayed reaction to my text message earlier. Then, the fact that he didn’t insist on picking me up for my party that, news flash, he was throwing for me makes me boarder line irrational. That, plus the conversation with Gwen the night before, has my blood boiling.
He never called when he got off work. Then showed up forty-five minutes late to a night he planned especially for me. To top it off, he walked up to me like nothing was wrong, nothing was different, and wanted my attention directed at him right away.
The bastard.
Even if I am slightly overreacting, I really don’t care. Maybe it is time shit hit the fan so I can figure out what the hell I want in life.
To make matters worse, he’s now sitting around the bar with Rex and Michael, shooting back shots and continuing to ignore my existence. I mean, truth be told, I did shrug him off, but damn it, he blew me off first. In fact, he blew me off all day.
I thought maybe he might leave the bar and come find me, try and talk to me about why I was so upset now that I had time to cool off. Instead, he continues drinking— a lot.
You’re just fueling a fire, asshole, because I’m sure as hell ready for a fight.
I look over to see Rex falling off his bar stool. Michael is barely able to stand himself. It’s a good thing they own the place or they’d all be thrown out. They have people they trust filling in for them out front, and unless all hell breaks loose, which never really happens in a small town like this, they’re actually free to do what they want at their own club for once.
Deciding to use the restroom to freshen up, I make my way down a small hallway to the ladies’ room and am thankful it’s empty when I walk into the small space. I take all the time I need, staring at my reflection in the mirror, trying to think of my best options, and regain control over not only my thoughts, but my seemingly out of control life.
Still undecided after nearly twenty minutes at staring at my reflection, I open the door and hope I can make up my mind before I return to the room. Walking back down the hallway, I look down, consumed in thought, not watching where I’m going. I bump into someone from behind and grab onto the person to stable myself in my heels.
“I’m so sorry,” I began.
“You can bump into me anytime, Eva,” Trevor says. He smiles, “Are you enjoying your party?”
I think for a moment about giving him a short and sweet answer, although Trevor and I have history, and he will be able to see past anything I’m trying so hard to hide. It’s probably wrong to lean on him with my frustrations, but I have no one else to talk to. Even Gwen got tired of my rambling earlier this evening, and although it could pose to be a bad choice, maybe talking to someone, preferably a man, is how I can work through this.
“Actually, no,” I say, relief floods me as I let my guard down and finally allow some of my emotions out.
Trevor’s smile softens, a look of concern fills his eyes. “Why?” he asks, taking a step closer.
“Just not really my scene anymore,” I try to explain. “Plus, I had a really bad night last night, and an even worse day today.”
I shake my head, remembering aspects of why I feel exactly the way I do. I want to forget it all, rewind the last twenty-four hours, change what I can, and have the best night imaginable. But that’s impossible.
“If you were my girl, I’d make sure and plan you a party you wanted. Not leave you alone while you were so obviously upset,” Trevor whispers, taking another step closer.
I know I should run. I know I should push him away. Paralyzed, I stand still.
“I haven’t been your girl for a long time, Trevor,” I tease, a nervous laugh escapes my lips.
I hope that he gets the hint. Our conversations have teetered on this kind of talk before. However, with a response like the one I just gave him, he always backs up and doesn’t press further. But the way he is looking at me tells me that is not about to be the outcome tonight.
