“I’m a big girl, Fletch. I don’t need you to look out for me. I’ve done just fine on my own.”
She wobbles slightly as she jumps down from the bar stool.
“Tate.” I reach for her, but she straightens her body out.
“Seriously, I’m fine. Go back to Casey; she’s probably wondering where you are.” My face falls slightly.
I guess it makes sense that she saw Casey here. There are a lot of people, but the bar isn’t crazy big. That’s not the part that’s getting me, honestly. The part that’s getting me is that she seems bothered by it.
Like the reason she’s acting the way she is right now is because she’s jealous of Casey, which is ridiculous.
“H-wh—” I don’t know where to go with my thoughts, and I don’t get time to decide because all of a sudden, I hear the bartender grabbing my attention from behind me.
“Sorry it took so long, man; here are those drinks.”
When I turn around, Tate is gone. So is Robby.
It takes everything in me not to leave the drinks on the bar and follow them out.
Try to find her… protect her.
But like she said, she’s done just fine on her own… she doesn’t need me to look out for her.
So, I don’t.
I grab the drinks off the bar and head back to our celebration.
twenty-three
Tate
January
Isnuck out of Robby’s room this morning.
Something I’ve never done before, but it’s not like either of us thought it was going to be more than a hookup. For starters, I’m not one for long-distance relationships, especially with someone I've just met. Secondly, I don’t think I know a single thing about Robby aside from his name and the fact that he plays hockey.
Honestly, when we got back to his room, there was a moment when I didn't even think we were going to sleep together. I think he could sense the tension between Fletcher and me, and he didn't want me to do something I'd regret.
But I don't regret last night. I might've drank a little more than I usually do, and it might've been to numb the Fletcher and Casey pain, but hanging out with Robby was a relief.
We ordered room service, watched trashy reality TV, and ended the night releasing all the pent-up tension in my body.
“There she is.” Brinley rests against the car, her arms crossed. “I never thought Tatum Lewis would be the last one to show up here this morning.”
“I’m not,” I argue, reaching the car, hoping she can’t tell I just ran out of the hotel as fast as I could to avoid waking up Robby. “Ember and Maia are—”
“Getting coffee. We said 6:30, it’s nearly 7:15.”
“Yeah, sorry.” I scratch the back of my head. “Lost track of time.”
“You totally got laid last night!” She grabs my arm, pulling me toward her.
“Could you keep your voice down?”
I don’t know if I’m asking because of my pounding headache or the fact that Fletcher is staying at this hotel.
“Please tell me you didn’t just have sex with that guy because Fletcher was with Casey.”
