Page 54 of I Still Love You

Henderson chuckles. “What the fuck is it with you and ass talk?”

Tilly lifts a shoulder, his tan face beaming with a smug smile. “What can I say? I’m an ass man, Hend.”

Henderson just shakes his head and gulps down another swig of lager. “Fucking weirdo.”

Tilly arches a brow at Henderson and leans his elbows on the table. “I’m the weirdo?” he asks, though it sounds more like a challenge, making me brace for whatever squabbling they’re about to get into because this is how it works with them. One comment said, and suddenly they’re at each other’s throats. “You’ve holed yourself up in your fucking condo for weeks. What’s fucking weird is you not wanting to get over your shoulder, man.”

“Come on, now,” Jett starts, gaze flicking between the two of them. “Leave that shit outta this. We’re here for a good time, not to bring up the stress we’re trying to forget about. We all know our boy here is going through some shit, but he’s not wrong, Til. You do talk about ass a lot.”

“Fuck you, both,” Tilly insults, moving his attention back to his beer, and leaning back in his seat again. “You both need to get some ass of your own. Maybe then you wouldn’t look so fucking miserable.” He directs his comment at Henderson, who pushes his chair in, flips Tilly the middle finger, and heads toward the bar.

“He needs to get his head together. Jesus, fuck.” Tilly turns his attention to me. “You, too. Jett told me about what happened.” Tilly shifts his gaze to the blonde chatting it up with his lady, and my eyes follow the movement. The overhead lights drape Layla in a captivating glow, making me that much more tempted to go down there and haul her into my lap. When I look back at Tilly, he’s already looking at me. “Did it feel good?”

“Don’t start, Til.”

Tilly is such a fucking problem starter in our group, the one who will push and insult without thinking karma will turn around and bite him in the ass. “Ah, come on. You throw a few punches; you talk about it. That’s the rule.” He nods his chin at Jett. “Said you fucked him up. Don’t blame you. I’d have done the same.”

I bring my drink to my lips; the same flavor of lager Jett has been enjoying. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

“No shit, sherlock, but it did. No shame in the fact your blood runs hot for someone you care about.”

It’s very fucking shameful, and I’ve beaten myself up for it since it happened. I wasn’t this man that felt the need to deal with his emotions by throwing fists and making others physically hurt when I met Layla. I didn’t have a reason to be so fucking angry back then. Losing the woman you love changes that. Shifts your perspective and turns you into a different man.

When I steal a glimpse of Layla again, her blue stare locks with mine. Her chest rises, indicating the deep breath she pulls in, her back curling slightly when she releases it. She draws the corner of her bottom lip into her mouth. Holly yammers on, her mouth moving a mile a minute without realizing that Layla’s focus has relocated.

I arch a brow and mouth, you good?

If she needs saving from Tilly’s girl, I’ll happily go over there, scoop her up, and save her, but as the thought comes, Layla’s eyes move to the approaching figure off to my side, and the smile she wears quickly fades. Her chin drops before nodding at something Holly says, and a feminine voice sounds next to me. I tent my hands over my mouth, hiding the irritation that threatens to consume me when a hand slides over my shoulder.

“How you boys doing?” Ava, our waitress, asks, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. I note that the strips of color from last time are gone. It settles along her back, flowing to just above her ass, as she presses her busty chest out. She points her long as fuck manicured nail at Jett’s drink. “You look low. Need another?”

“That’d be great, actually.” Jett’s dazzling smile breaks out over his face. He could be the most chivalrous man in the damn world, and she wouldn’t be interested. She’s too into me to react to Jett’s subtle flirting, and he fucking knows it.

“Sounds good.” Her nails scrape along the soft material of my t-shirt when she straightens. Whatever idea she has in that head of hers won’t be coming to fruition tonight or ever again.

My dick and balls shrivel up at the thought of spending another evening alone with her. Not because she’s unattractive or bad in bed. It’s just that she’s loud. She’s a screamer, and I’m not talking about seductive whimpers and moans. I’m talking blood-curdling shrieks that pull you out of the moment. It took me long as hell to finish that night, and the second I did, I detached from the idea of ever letting a round two happen.

Besides, I can’t get Layla out of my head. Can’t scare away the conversation we need to have. I’m anticipating the worst. Is she going to be okay with it? Lash out? Who the fuck knows, but Ava’s incessant flirting and lusty looks aren’t helping.

“What about you, Luke? You ready for another or calling it a night?” Her hand slides over my shoulder and blankets my neck, her fingers dipping into the neckline of my shirt for show. She can’t possibly think this is okay. Was she flirty the night we fucked? Sure. But did she go as far as putting her hands on me while we were having dinner and enjoying a few drinks? No.

She’s as desperate to get in my pants as I am for her to get the hell off me.

I peel her fingers from me. “I’m good. Thanks, though.” I force my mouth into a flat smile and turn my direction back to the person I want attention from; only Layla has gone back to listening to Holly.

Jett’s eyes glow as they follow Ava to the bar. “She wants you. Bad. I didn’t peg her for being a clinger. Did you?”

Honestly, no. Since Layla left, I haven’t been in the state of mind to pick up a relationship and keep it going. Even before, I struggled to make relationships permanent, to commit fully when I wasn’t sure where my career was going to take me.

That’s not to say that I don’t also have needs because I do. And that desire sometimes becomes too strong for my hand to do the trick, hence Ava.

“You should just hit it again,” Tilly says nonchalantly. “Enjoy it while you’re in your prime.”

“Dude,” Jett balks with wide eyes, “you realize he brought someone with him?”

“And he hasn’t said more than three fucking sentences to her the entire time. Holly could be a better boyfriend than him.” Henderson’s a smart man for leaving the table when he did. “I doubt she heard me, anyway. Holly doesn’t know when to stop talking half the time, and it’s a fucking circus in here.”

“Explains why you two are so damn perfect for each other,” I quip. “You don’t know when to shut the hell up, either.”

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