“Shut the fuck up. You can have anyone you want, and you know it.” He pets Venom.
“I’m a picky bitch.” I don’t tell him about Wolfe and my agreement. Maybe I should.
He picks up his phone, and his face drains of color. “Fuck.”
“What?” I lean over, trying to see his phone.
“My aunt just texted me. I’m assuming it’s something with my dad.”
“Fuck. Do you need a ride?” It’s a long ass train ride out of the city, and I’d never let him do that alone.
He turns away like he doesn’t want to ask.
I get up and grab my keys because I’m not going to give him a choice.
Finally, he says, “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not, my love.”
We head to the parking garage. It’s not a long drive, especially at this time of night when the traffic in the city has finally died down.
“Can I do anything else?” I ask when neither of us has spoken.
“Distract me?”
“I can give you more theory about compulsory heterosexuality.” I tease, hoping I can make him laugh.
He groans. “No, I’ve had enough of that. But you can tell me what’s going on with you and Wolfe since you fucking deflected earlier.”
I groan. “There isn’t anything really to talk about.”
“No? Because neither of you is fucking anyone else, and don’t deny it, everyone can hear drunk Wolfe with a chick. There’s been no one sneaking out in the morning. Nothing.”
I guess we are as bad at hiding things as he is. “We decided to pretend to date so he can come to my sister’s wedding with me, but then she made me bring my ‘boyfriend’ to her shower in October, and it’s been a whole thing.” I’m hoping that satisfies him without me going into more detail.
He absorbs the information for a long moment, and I almost think I’ve appeased him, until he speaks. “So what happened there? You two fake-dating. No one is going to believe that, especially him being your sister’s ex without more.”
Fuck.
“We kissed.”
“And?” Seaborn asks, and reality hits me hard.
I really don’t know how my best friend is feeling. I’ve been too in my own head.
“And he’s not into it, but I think he’s mad at me because we are doing this whole thing, and my sister’s fiancé plays for Boston, and now Ridgeway fucking knows. I promised Iwouldn’t embarrass him, but I think it’s making him miserable. It’s making me miserable. I haven’t got laid in two fucking months.” I don’t mean for it all to come spilling out, but it does, and I glance over, trying to gauge his reaction.
“I think you need to talk to him. You two avoiding each other isn’t going to help. And frankly, if you play like shit because of it, you’re both fucking yourself.”
He’s right, and I hate him for it.
“Fuck you for being right.”
“I love you too,” Seaborn says.
“If you need anything else or just to talk about your father, call me, okay?” I put my hand on his shoulder before he gets out.
“I will.” Seaborn nods, clearly emotional.
