Page 53 of I Still Love You

When Jett extended an invitation for tonight, he practically hovered over my shoulder until I texted Layla, asking her to come out with us as well. The look she gives me tells me she needs a night out just as much as I do.

“No.” She shakes her head, her lips drawing into a line. “I want to meet your friends. It’s important to me, but if I’m being weird, it’s because this is weird, Luke. I mean, doesn’t it feel odd to you? To be spending time together outside of our,” her voice turns to a whisper, “agreement.”

I flick a brow up and intertwine my fingers between hers, aware that we’ve gone from zero touching to blatant PDA and not giving a single fuck. “It doesn’t feel weird. It feels different. I know things have been rocky, but if I didn’t want you here, I wouldn’t have asked.” There’s a thought on the tip of my tongue that I want to share, one where I admit that I’m tired of playing games—look where they’ve gotten me—and want to fall into the realness of whatever it is we are, even if it only is in the form of friendship. Then I remember the pain I endured when she left, and it lingers in the back of my mind as a reminder. Having dinner with her and my friends makes me feel better than I have all week, but I understand the reservations she’s having because, honestly, I have some of my own.

“They’ll understand if we have to bail.”

“No, really. I want to stay. I just felt like I had to say that. Now, come on,” she murmurs, slinking into my side and pulling me along. Her bare arm brushes against my t-shirt, and my heart claims victory over the war raging inside my head.

Things could be much worse. She could hate me as much as I hated her when she arrived in Quaint, when I made that ridiculous deal with her. Laying into Andrew could’ve sent her for the hills. If I saw my ex acting that viciously, I certainly wouldn’t be running toward them.

But deep down, she has to know she’s safe with me.

I just don’t know if I’m safe with her.

I need her to see that I’m done playing games. That she destroyed me, but I can’t live with that pain anymore. I need to lower my fists and walk through the agony. Everything—all of it—starts and ends with her. Tonight, as much as I don’t want to, as much as I want to continue to revel in these new developments, I need to end it.

“Oh, look,” Tilly says, nodding his chin to our server. He lifts his near empty beer bottle, sloshing what’s left in it before downing it in a gulp. The corners of his lips lift in a mischievous smirk, and I know why. “I’m out.”

As charming as I’m sure he was when he swept Holly off her feet, he can be a real asshole. Like right now. He keeps trying to lure our waitress over, a woman he knows I’ve slept with, to see how I’ll react.

Tilly Wrenshaw, first baseman of the Quentin Wolves, is as assertive as he is quick on the field. With reflexes like his, physically and mentally, it’s no shock he’s quick to figure out what’ll put me in the doghouse with Layla.

His brown eyes light up when I mouth for him to fuck off. He simply shrugs as our waitress approaches.

“All out?”

“Afraid so. Thanks, darling.”

Before she saunters away with his empty bottle, her gaze shifts and lingers on me. I already know what she’s thinking, hoping for. Hooking up with women isn’t something I normally do. But it’d been months since I felt the physical touch of a woman. I had a few beers in me, and we were both flirting. I realized it was a mistake after I left her place that morning.

“You’re an asshole,” I tell Til, earning a smirk from Jett in the process.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Til glances toward the end of the table at Holly, her strawberry blonde hair wrapped in a braid and make-up lining her eyes and high cheekbones. He winks at her when she looks up, and a blush takes over her cheeks before she turns back to Layla. Five minutes after settling in at the table, Holly convinced her to switch seats. Too soon, she was stolen from my side, and I’ve been missing her ever since, which is stupid, considering she’s only twenty feet away.

The server’s sideways glances aren’t lost on me. I don’t miss the way her full lips, smeared with cotton candy pink, hitch higher when she catches my eyes. Nor do I miss how she brushes her busty chest across the back of my head when she comes back with Tilly’s refill.

And Jett and Henderson? Fuck both of them for saying nothing. For not powering down Tilly’s shenanigans when they know what he’s doing.

“Feel free to speak up at any time,” I tell them, knowing the girls can't hear me. It’s loud as hell in here tonight. There’s music playing, the bar behind us is filled, and there’s a trivia game going on. When they just smirk, I add, “Why the hell did I agree to come out with you three?” I pop a jalapeno popper into my mouth and chew, the spiciness from the pepper spreading across my tongue.

“Because it’s been a while, and you need positivity in your life,” Jett says, causing Henderson to grunt in agreement next to him. If anyone needs a pick me up, it’s Henderson, but I get why Jett rounded the lot of us. We need to get our heads out of our asses.

“Yeah, and I forgot how much of a pain in the ass you can be, especially you,” I throw at Tilly.

“He’s a grade A prick,” Henderson snickers, joking along with me, but sometimes I wonder, with how tense it can get between the two if he’s being serious.

“Prick or not, you fucking love me,” Tilly claims.

“We might care about you,” I say, “but I agree with Henderson. You’re a prick and a half.”

Jett claps me on the back. “Sounds like a fucking compliment to me. If my prick were half a size bigger than it is now, I’d have waitresses eye fucking me, too.”

“Dude,” Henderson starts, shaking his head and lifting his beer to his mouth, “you’re a fucking fool.”

Jett shrugs. “A fool who’s saved both your asses on more than one occasion.” He leans over the table toward Tilly. “Yours, too. So, you know what? Fuck all of you. Right up the ass until it splits you in two. I’m a great fucking time.”

“Ain’t nothing strong enough to split this ass in two,” Tilly jokes, plucking one of the poppers from my tray and scratching his thick, dark beard. “Once these buns of steel seal, there ain’t no opening them.”

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