“I’ve had worse. You planning to ditch her after every fight just to ease your guilt?”
He sighs. “That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?”
“Me trying to take care of my best friend the same way he’s always taken care of me. Is that all right with you?”
My ire softens, and I blow out a breath.What the fuck am I doing?Of course he should be here. He’s mybestfriend, and he’s just doing that.
Being a friend.
Besides, I have no business fighting with Art over Genevieve, of all people.
She’s not my business.
“I should head out. Let you get some sleep.” He stands up and stretches, his back popping. “Early meeting with my dad tomorrow. Can’t wait to hear about all the ways I’m still disappointing him.”
“Silver Spoon Survivors’ Club?” I ask.
“Founding members.” He grins, fist-bumping me.
At the door, he pauses. Then he crosses back, pulling me into a rough hug.
I freeze.
“We’re okay,” he says into my shoulder. “Right?”
My arms hang at my sides for a second before I bring one up and grip the back of his neck.
“Yeah, Art. We’re good.”
He lets go and disappears out the front door.
The silence is worse now, and I sit, staring at the empty space where he was, replaying our conversation.
Cavall nudges his head under my hand. I scratch his ears, and he lets out a low whine before padding across the room to grab Virgil from where he fell behind the couch. He drops the duck at my feet and settles back down, pressing his weight against my legs.
She wanted to do this whole dinner thing tonight. Cooked and everything.
I told her I had to check on you.
He left her alone to sit with me and eat Chinese food and pretend everything’s fine.
I should feel grateful.
Instead, something heavy coils in my chest. Something that belongs to him, not me.
I keep seeing her in that kitchen, waiting for someone who chose egg rolls and my broken ass over a meal she made with her own hands.
And it’s not even that he left. It’s that I wish I’d been the one she was waiting for.
Thatthought punches me right in the sternum, and I shove it down so hard my ribs scream.
“Fuck,” I mutter, scrubbing my hands over my face.
Art’s.She’s Art’s. And I’m the guy who just begged him to take her and leave town so they can build a life together.
I can’t do this. Can’t sit here in the dark with her face in my mind and Art’s voice in my ears. I grab my jacket and head out the back door. Cavall’s already up, his ears forward, ready to follow.
