“Why can’t we just hang out sober,” Addison mutters to me, her body stiffer than before and her arms crossed.
“I don’t know.” I shrug.
Everyone acts like they just came back with gold. I sip on the drink in my hand and follow her closer to the fire. She holds her hands out in front of her to warm them up and the flames flicker in the reflection of her eyes. She’s not looking at me or the fire, she’s watching everyone’s every move.
Someone suggests having shotgun races, another wants to play beer pong on a dropped tailgate.
“Hey.” I nudge Addie with my elbow, and her eyes are quick to find mine. “Let’s get outta here.” I gesture towards the truck.
She points to the cup in my hand. “But you had that beer…”
I lift it over to her. “Smell it.”
She gives me a skeptical glare but does it anyway.
Her brow furrows. “It’s water?”
I laugh. “You think I’d drink and then drive you home? Come on, Addie.”
She shakes her head like she can’t believe I thought that far ahead.
But I always do, withher.
She just smiles and takes a few steps back. I throw a wave over to the guys, tell them we’re heading out, and follow her to my truck.
Maybe tonight’s the night it’ll click and she’ll see it. That so many of the things that I do are for her.
Like the fact that she’s the reason I came tonight. The reason I don’t drink. The reason I keep that sweatshirt in my truck.
* * *
My grip on the steering wheel tightens as I muster up the apology I’ve been rehearsing for the last twelve hours.
The conversations I had with my dad and Jesse still ring clear in my head, even though they happened three weeks ago. They both called me out, saying I loved her. And I didn’t deny it.
I know I love her. But I’m not going to admit that to her yet, not when she’s someone else’s girlfriend. Unfortunately, I’m respectful enough to keep it to myself.
And if I’m being honest, I hate myself a little for it.
She reaches to turn the radio down. “I’ll start.”
“No. I need to go first,” I argue.
The silence that follows is brittle. I take a deep breath.
“I should’ve never said what I said.”
“I shouldn’t have either,” she mutters.
“No, just, please let me talk first.”
She sinks back into her seat and tucks her lips together.
“Clearly, you really like this guy, and it’s not my business to get involved. You’re my friend and I want to support you.”
She doesn’t say anything at first, just traces her nail over her leg, so I wait.
“Maybe I’ll just stop bringing him up around you. I think I let you hear too much of the bad and not enough of the good, and that’s on me. I did a bad job at making him sound like a good guy. When he really is most of the time.”
