“So you really didn’t spend your nights at the clubs? I guess I thought you were just saying that.”
Blair tugs her lower lip between her teeth and shifts in her seat. “I’m not a liar,” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear her.
“That’s not what I meant.” Frustration wells up in me. Even when I’m trying to be friendly, I still manage to step in it. What is it about Blair that has me putting my foot in my mouth so consistently?
Sucking in a deep breath, I try again. “How do you like the Twin Cities so far?”
“Um, it’s good. Different. I haven’t really had much opportunity to explore it yet, but I like it so far.” She glances at me through the thick fringe of her lashes, worrying at her lower lip.
I want to reach across the table and drag it out from between her teeth.
“Do you miss LA?”
Blair shifts in her seat, and I try to ignore the curious glances of my friends and their women.
“Sure. I grew up there, so I think it’ll always feel like home, but there wasn’t really anything left to stay for.”
I want to ask her what she means by that, but she makes eye contact briefly before turning and focusing on the server as he drops the food off. After that, Blair does her best to ignore me, and I sit silently, lost in my head as everyone talks around me.
An hour later, Mira has her head propped on Griffin’s shoulder, softly snoring. Isla is yawning, Lexi is staring off into space, and Blair yawns for the fourth time in ten minutes.
“All right,” Maddox says, leaning over to kiss his wife’s forehead. “Let’s get you home. Blair, you ready?”
She blinks exaggeratedly at Maddox and nods. It’s cute, and I’m struggling to maintain my belief that she’s some scheming jersey chaser.
“Come on, then.” Maddox slides out from his spot at the end of the bench seat before extending a hand to his wife. Bash does the same on the other side and offers his hand to help Blair out. She just stares up at him for a second before a soft smile curves her full lips and accepts his hand. She wobbles a bit, the wine combining with her obvious exhaustion and making her unsteady on her feet. When she wraps a hand around his bicep, I want to growl and shove him out of the way.
I should be the one to walk her to Maddox’s car.
Shaking my head, I mentally berate myself because, the fuck?
“You guys want to grab the paintings from the trunk now or the next time we have practice?” Maddox asks the girls.
“I want my painting now,” Lexi slurs. Ryder has his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her up. She leans into him, trusting the rookie to keep her from stumbling.
What would it feel like to have someone trust you like that? Or to be able to trust someone else so implicitly?
“Let’s do it,” Griffin says. He slaps me on the back as we all make our way out to the parking lot, leveling me with an arched brow and a silent question.
I nod. Like I’m missing out on seeing these paintings after everything the ladies had to say about them.
Trailing behind the group, I rub absently at an ache in my chest. I’ve never felt like I’m missing out on anything because of my one-and-done policy when it comes to women. But watching my best friends fall in love and find this happiness, thiseasinesswith their wives and girlfriends, has me second-guessing my decisions.
Maybe it would be nice to be with someone long term. They’d have your back, and you’d have theirs.
Except I know better than anyone that no one actually sticks around forever. Not even the people who make vows promising fidelity for better or worse. Not even the people who are supposed to love you above everyone else. Not even the woman who gave birth to you.
“Oh my god.” Ryder barks out a laugh. “These are…”
“You better sayamazing,” Lexi growls.
“Of course, that was what I was going to say.” The laughter in his voice would suggest otherwise, but Lexi seems appeased enough. She holds her painting out and studies it, head cocked to the side.
All the women show their paintings to the guys, and they are genuinely awful. Truly terrible. But then Bash picks up apainting out of the back of Maddox’s SUV and makes a choking sound.
Blair covers her face with her hands. “Don’t say it.”
When the girls were describing Blair’s attempt at a tree, I thought they had to be exaggerating.
