Page 92 of Falling Too Late

“Yes, ma’am.” The waitress escaped the awkwardness, and Melissa finally piped in: “Come on, Wren, sit down. I know I told you he was hot, but you don’t need to gawk like that.”

Everyone else had sat down. Melissa wasn’t reading the room, her flirtation still just as strong as ever, even though she couldn’t see past her own nose.

“Oh, it's okay, Melissa. We are all old friends here.” Alex looked between Jon and I.

The look wasn’t friendly or happy. No, there was something else there now. Something that I didn’t think I had ever seen on his face.

“Wait, you know them?” She turned in her chair. I watched as she twirled a lock of her blond hair around her finger, giving him her full attention, breasts pushed out, brushing his arm.

“Oh, yeah, we all go way back.” Slowly, I took my seat, watching Alex as if he were a ghost.

“No one wants to tell the story?” he asked, and after a splitsecond said, “Alright, fine. I will.” In a sarcastic tone. He turned toward Melissa, sitting back relaxed in his chair. “We all went to high school together. Wren and I lived together in high school and through her college days. Jon and I have been best friends since elementary school. Or, should I say,werebest friends.”

My eyes didn’t leave Melissa's breasts, still pushing up against his arm.

The most unhinged part of my brain wanted to take the knife on the table and deflate her silicone boobs.

The thought took me off guard. I had never been hostile toward her, ever.

“Really?” Melissa's mouth was in the shape of an O. “I knew these two went back, but I didn’t realize it was that far back. I thought they met in college or something. You know, neither of them talks about themselves much. Well, actually, Jon talks about himself a lot, but not in the way to give you history on him.” Melissa continued to ramble while I felt like I was gut punched.

Our waitress was back, setting drinks down. Before she could leave, I tossed back the first one, handing her the glass.

“That’s my girl,” Alex said the words loud and clear.

I froze, a mixture of emotions flashing through me. I was still so shocked I couldn’t process any of it.

“Uh, excuse me?” Melissa said, an awkward laugh following her words.

“Melissa, I have to confess something, you see.” He laid his arm over the back of her chair, and I watched as one of his fingers trailed up her shoulder. “You are kind of the pawn in this situation, and I apologize for that.”

Melissa was trapped in Alex’s heated gaze, inching her way closer to him.

I tore my eyes from the exchange and looked at Jon.

Jon was white as a sheet. He looked like he was going to be sick.

“Jon?” His blue eyes snapped to me at my words. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Wren,” he shook his head, "I’m so—” He moved in close to me, putting his hand on the back of my neck. I was frozen in place, those icy blues were just as confused and shocked as I was.

“Get your fucking hand off of her,” Alex growled, “before I break it.” Alex stood in one fluid motion, both hands on the table. “I don’t care if it puts me back in prison.”

“P-Prison?” Melissa stuttered.

I ignored her and stood. I turned my venomous gaze on Alex, but I was at a loss for words. Jon slowly stood, his hands out like he was trying to calm a snake before it struck.

“Wren, I—” Jon stuttered, but I cut him off.

“Who do you think you are?” I turned to Alex. “Coming here on a false pretense that you are on a date with our friend? To what? Corner us? Act likewe are the liars?”Alex’s only reaction was a raised eyebrow. He sat coolly in his chair, watching me. “What the fuck is this?” My voice rattled. I felt anger like I had never felt before. I could see Jon staring at me in the corner of my eye. This wasn’t the same Alex we had known growing up. This wasn’t the boy who gave me snacks in between classes or walked me home from school.

I didn’t know this man.

How dare he yell at Jon when Jon had been doing exactly what he promised? He was taking care of me.

Even now, Jon was thinking of my feelings before his own, trying to console me.

I reached down, grabbing my drink, gripping it tightly just to stop my hand from shaking. My hand gripped my glass so hard I thought it might shatter. I stared down at the amber liquid. Alex’s hand came up and rested around his own glass, and I finally noticed the tattoo across his knuckles.

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