Chapter 44
Macey
“Hi, Macey, how areya?” Dalton asked, pulling me into a bear hug that nearly crushed me in two.
“Dalton, easy man,” Jayce hissed, but I brushed him off, squeezing Dalton’s arm fondly.
“I’m really good, Dalton, thank you for asking.”
“Are you?” Dalton said, his head turning slowly to the side as he examined me. “Because you look like shit.”
“Dalton,” Jayce warned, tone dripping with venom.
“It’s fine, Jayce,” I said with a laugh, feeling happier than I’d felt in weeks. “Dalton gives it to me straight. That’s my kind of guy.”
“Don’t let Jayce hear that,” Dalton murmured, lowering his voice to a tone that was one decibel below shouting. “I hear he’s been whipped.”
“Whipped? This guy?” Jayce snorted, flinging his arm around my waist and pulling me close. “Nobody whips Jayce Gregory.”
“And yet this one did,” Dalton said slowly, his head tilted as he looked me up and down with a thoughtful look on his face.
“Quit checking out my girl, man,” said Jayce. I knew he was teasing, because Jayce wasn’t a terribly jealous guy, but a small warning was right there, hovering beneath the surface
Behave yourself, don’t upset Macey, and at least try to pretend like her life isn’t crumbling from beneath her feet...
“Hey, there’s the team,” Dalton said, spotting the table full of their teammates. When they saw us approach, everyone stood, offering slightly overenthusiastic greetings and even a few awkward hugs. I knew how hard they were trying, but I wanted them to be chill. Natural. I hated being pitied, and I refused to entertain it. Candace was already there, and she jumped to her feet to rush over and hug me.
“I’m so sorry,” she cried, yanking me against her. “I know it wasn’t my business, but—”
“It’s fine,” I assured her. “You guys are my friends. I should have told you sooner.”
Tears brimmed in Candace’s eyes as she nodded, then she backed away to sit back down.
“I’ve been so excited to try this place,” I said over the table as Jayce removed my jacket and draped it over the back of my chair for me. I sat down, squeezing his hand, and a moment later everyone else settled down as well. “I heard they have amazing booze,” I continued, and this brought a table of chuckles and a few cheers. I could do this.
“What can I get you to drink?” the server asked, pen poised above her pad as she stopped at our table. Before anyone could answer, I spoke up.
“Can I get a round of shots for the table, please? Whiskey.”
“Sure thing.”
