I don’t wait for my friends to grab theirs and clink them together like usual. Nope. I pick mine up and slam it back, wincing as it burns the back of my throat, and for once, it’s a welcome distraction.
If I’m going to have to deal with my ex on my first night back in town, I need to be fueled by alcohol. I’m way too sober for this shit.
“Hollis,” Brett’s familiar voice rings out as he approaches our small group. “I heard a little rumor you were back in town,” he beams, confirming all my fears.
God, I really am going to have to shut him down all over again.
“You heard right,” I nod, doing my best to keep my voice friendly despite the irritation already festering inside.
“I also heard you got a job working for your dad. So I take it this means you’re planning to stick around for a while?” heasks, the hope obvious as he gazes at me with his overly-adoring puppy-dog eyes.
Once upon a time, I found that look endearing. It gave me hope that, in time, I’d grow to care for him in the same way he seemed to love me. But unfortunately, the feelings never came—at least not in the way he wanted or deserved.
“You heard right.” I force a smile, doing my best to tiptoe the fine line between being friendly and not leading him on. “But unfortunately, it also means I plan to stay pretty busy. Tonight is my only real night of freedom before getting to work, and once I’m in Houston, I don’t see myself having any free time at all.”
His head bobs in acknowledgment, that same lovesick grin still plastered across his face.
Wonder-fucking-full. So much for expecting him to take the hint.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll need a break at some point, and when that happens we should catch up. You know I’d love to take you out,” he says, once again reminding me why we never worked in the first place. He sucked at listening then, and he’s clearly maintained that frustrating talent.
My smile falters.
No. I don’t want to go out with Brett. But I’m also not looking to go down in history as the evil ex who not only crushed him once, but twice. Why can’t I just be one of those women who stand up for themselves and tell men how it is without a care in the world for their fragile egos?
At least when I was leaving town, I had that as an excuse. But what can I say now that won’t shatter him all over again? I’m seriously running out of polite ways to say no, and I’m guessing faking my own death would probably fall under the category of being a little too dramatic.
“Hey babe,” a deep voice cuts in, surprising us all as he slides in beside me, his strong arm wrapping around my waist.“Sorry. I had to take that call,” he apologizes, gazing down at me before turning toward Brett as though he’s only just noticed his presence. “Who’s your friend?”
There’s something vaguely familiar about him. Or maybe it’s the fact he has the kind of face that makes you want to stop and look twice or really, just stop and stare altogether. With strong, chiseled features, he’s clearly been blessed by the gods with a sharp jawline and deep brown eyes framed by equally dark brows.
His body feels solid against my own, making me far too aware of the muscles lurking under his tight, tan T-shirt. While I’d normally judge someone for wearing a hat inside—and backwards at that—it somehow works with his boyish charm.
I’m sure I look insane as I gaze up at this stranger, my eyes likely bulging out of their sockets in the most unattractive way. He nods for me to speak, and only then do I pull myself together enough to clear my throat.
“Uh, this is my old friend, Brett Young,” I manage, forcing my attention back to my ex.
Brett is, of course, attractive in his own clean-cut way, but he’s got nothing on the man who somehow inserted himself into this conversation.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Brett,” the stranger says, holding out his free hand to shake. “It’s been so nice meeting all of her friends. Oh, and I’m Mason by the way. Her boyfriend,” he casually states, like he didn’t just drop a huge bomb on us.
What the hell is happening here?
Does he really think anyone is going to buy this? Then again, with the way Brett’s smile falters, maybe he’s actually onto something.
“Oh, wow. I had no idea,” Brett says, the betrayal noticeable in his eyes as they dart between me and my so-called ‘boyfriend’.
Yeah, neither did I.
I want to say something. I should say something. Hell, Ineedto say something, but my mind is a black hole of nothingness.
“Well, if it makes you feel better,” Candice cuts in. “Neither did we. It got sprung on all of us tonight as a surprise,” she adds, her bright, cheery voice saving me and perhaps redeeming herself after causing this mess in the first place.
If anyone were to know about me having a boyfriend, it’d be Candice. If she’d known, she would have told Kenny, who ultimately would’ve passed the news on to his best buddy, Brett.
“Well, it’s all pretty new,” I attempt, my voice weak, but it’s still all I can manage, along with a sheepish shrug
Brett looks confused, and I don’t blame him.
