My heart gallops in my chest, rattling my rib cage. Can everyone at this stable hear how heavy I’m breathing?
What the fuck is wrong with me? It's because he's ignored you for a year, so now you're strung out.Paranoia tastes awfully like guilt.
His foot disappears, and Asher rests back in his chair, using the cushion of his thumb to skim his lower lip.
Heat pulses up my neck.Is it hot here, or am I going through menopause?
I need another drink.
The sound of my chair scraping against the wooden floors is barely audible over all the laughter and chatter, mainly from Camille, who is doing her best to touch Asher at any chance she gets.
Why did I notice that? Shit. Was I watching him more than he was me?This is why you don't drink alcohol around strangers.
Tonight isn't the time to straddle my high horse, since I'm sure it'd trot me to Hell, anyway.
“Right, Ivy?” Lucinda's wiping her tears, her cheeks pinched red from laughing. It better not be from Parker.You know it won't be from Parker.
I drop a cherry between ice cubes, swirling the liquid in my glass. “Hmmm?”
“I was telling them about Asher teaching you how to snowboard last year! You learned from a pro!”
“He did ok…” Uncomfortable with any light shining on me, I make my way back to my chair.
Jord gives me a lopsided look, obviously sensing my unease, before shifting the conversation to Bitcoin. This is where I lose myself. I go through the motions that I always do when I'm trying to get through time faster.
I play with my hair. I drink. I watch. And I don't speak.
My father taught me at a young age that it's a power move to be the quietest in the room. Lucinda argues it only adds to my mystery, further drawing more attention to myself.
Silverware clinks around the table as Parker cuts into the roasted lamb. Buttered mashed potatoes, meat, and enough bread to raise Jesus from the dead.
I drink.
“What happened to your plane?” Camille turns to Lucinda. It's the first time I've heard her engage in a genuine conversation and seem interested. She's beautiful. It makes it worse.
Lucinda presses her leg against my thigh, and I use my glass to hide my smirk. She's looking at Asher, no doubt.
Classy.
Luce clears her throat and swallows a gulp of red. “The weather. We only did a few circles. Last year, Ivy's jet couldn't land her and Asher at all, and you had to drive from, where was it again?” Lucinda asks, batting her lashes at me.
The burn of alcohol catches in my throat, and I cough, leaning forward and placing the glass on the table.
Parker's eyes pin on me from the side.
Asher cuts in, bored. “A small airstrip on the other side of the island.”
Something collides with my foot under the table again, cutting my nervous laugh short. This time, it'll be he who can sit andwonder if I'm going to look at him because something tells me that if I do find him watching me, I'll fold. Burn.
Why the fuck do I care so damn much?
Because he was your friend.
Because he gave you a nickname.
Because you always want what you can't have.
Parker's awkward laugh pulls us back into the now as he continues to carve the meat into thin slices, placing them on the platter between us. Music plays softly in the background, and the lighting is low enough to be intimate, perfect for the table.
