Great, she’s probably going to vomit, too.
“Oh!” she hollers, so loud that several people looked over at us. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we say something we love …likeabout Asher?”
I make a point of ignoring that Freudian fucking slip.
“I can do that.” In fact, I can do it too well, because there are a lot of qualities I like about Asher, but most of them are about how effectively he can kill or dispose of a man. “He hates cookies. I love cookies. Easy.” I sip my beer.
“That’s a selfish reason!” she says and burps.
“Charming.”
She presses her finger to her lips. “My turn. He asks me questions.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Wow, the bar really is in hell when it comes to your dating life. That’s why you like him?”
She pulls a face. “It’s hard finding guys that show an actual interest. Deacon was more interested in my dad.”
I shrug a shoulder. “Maybe because you’re a little boring.”
I take another swig of my beer before noticing Ella’s face. Her cheeks are pink, her wide eyes glazed over.
And her lip trembles.
Shit.
“You’re such an ass.” She climbs out of her seat, and I don’t know what to say as she shoves the door to the bar open and leaves.
I sigh, dropping money on the table and following her out. She’s already across the street. Damn, she really is fast. “Gibson!”
She ignores me and speedwalks, and when I finally catch her arm and turn her, she’s biting the inside of her cheek.
“I …” I falter. “It was a joke.”
“Funny.” She turns away from me again and keeps walking.
I watch her, annoyance bubbling, because how the hell was I supposed to know that she’d take it seriously? She’s said plenty of shitty things to me; why is this any different?
But my stomach is twisting with the same guilt I’d felt at brunch. And whether I like it or not, Asher cares about this girl.
“Gibson.” I catch up with her, but she ignores me, still speedwalking toward the apartment. “I’m sorry, okay? I took it too far, or whatever.”
Ella skids to a halt. “‘Or whatever’? You suck at apologies!”
“I never fucking apologize; sorry, I’m rusty at it. See! Twice! I don’t think I’ve even apologized to Asher twice.”
Ella folds her arms, looking in the direction of the apartment. Her cheeks are still flushed, either from the alcohol, the argument, or the rapid pace she always fucking walks at.
“Listen,” I say. “We don’t like each other; that much is clear.”
“That’s the one thing wecanagree on.”
My eye twitches. “Yes, but we also both care about Asher.” She finally looks at me. “So, I take back what I said; it was a thoughtless joke. Okay?”
She pauses before nodding curtly. “Apology accepted.” She suddenly swallows hard and presses her hand to her stomach.
I back away. “Don’t puke.”
She takes a breath, her face paling. “I shouldn’t have run. This is your fault.”
