I smirked and patted his head. He dodged my hand and snapped his teeth at me like a feral brat.
“But you’ll always be the cutest,” I said.
“That’s true.” He shrugged. “But am I cute enough to turn a straight man gay?”
I rolled my eyes and huffed. “Give up on that one. Dorian will never turn gay.”
“Not him. He’s like the brother I wished I’d had instead of my stupid sister. I just like messin’ with him.”
“Have you talked to your family lately?” I asked.
“Nope. They didn’t reach out for any of the holidays or my birthday, so fuck them.”
“Fuck ’em.”
Savannah and Dorian came back with drinks for all of us.
“These are chocolate martinis,” Dorian said. Each glass was rimmed with pink sugar. So festive. Percy declined, so Dorian finished his for him. My eyes watered at the first few sips, but I soldiered on. Drunk was a great companion for depression, right?
As a group, we mingled. Percy gushed over the table of sweets. Everything was heart shaped, even the normal food. Gross. So much red and pink and chocolate. My blood sugar rose just from smelling it.
“This was a bad idea,” I said.
No matter the reason, children’s hospital or not, there was no doubt this event was for romance. Mood lighting, rose petals, and silk drapes. Soft classical music played in between sappy love songs.
“I can’t.” I shoved my empty glass at Dorian.
“Whoa, okay.” He fumbled with it for a moment, then dropped it on a random table.
“Asher?”
The three held expressions from confusion to pity.
“I can’t …” I waved around as if that explained everything. “This is too much. I’m not ready for life to move on.”
A few of the couples near us turned.
A sane person might’ve lowered their voice. A right-minded person might not’ve wanted to cause a scene.
I was neither.
“What’re you lookin’ at?” I barked.
“Asher,” Savannah said, tugging on my sleeve.
A few of those nearest returned to their own business, but not all.
“What?” I asked anyone listening. “You think slathering a room in pink and red will make everyone happy? You think this mends broken hearts or, or, or helps whatever cause you’re here for? It doesn’t. Life sucks, no matter how cute you make it. No matter how you dress it up. Sometimes your only choice is shit. Sometimes you have to hurt the one you love.”
“Asher, let’s head over—”
“No. I’m not done.” I shrugged off Savannah’s hold, shaking my head and sneering at the disapproving faces around us. “I’m not—” I cocked my head as I stalled at one particular face. “Is that Tate?” I blinked, then jerked. “Jamie?”
I cut across the dance floor toward them, the questions around why they were here lost with my outrage from seconds before. Both stood in their tuxes, and even more shocking were Wren and Michael, also in tuxes, standing next to them.
And Momma.
And Ben.
