Page 102 of Finding Delaware

Don’t fight.

“B-but we didn’t order anything,” I frown.

Taylor wraps a hand around Royce’s wrist. “They’re from me. A peace offering on my open tab. Order whatever you want.”

A minute passes before Royce releases Taylor with a shove, pushing him back into Christian’s chest, who’s eyeing us like he’s more than prepared to hide two bodies.

Taylor straightens, smooths down his jacket, and then throws an arm out toward the shots with a bow. “Bone-apple-teeth. Enjoy your date.”

He grabs his best friend by the shirt and drags him into the pool hall, Xed following after giving me a death glare. Matthewstands there momentarily, looking awkward, but he throws us an apologetic smile as he leaves with his friends.

Royce scoffs, gazing after them until they take up a pool table on the other side of the bar. “Fucking douche. I just got deja vu.”

“From prom?” Huffing a dry, empty laugh, I look toward the DJ as 'Something Real' by Post Malone starts up. “There’s even a stage and everything.”

Just minus Logan and Salem. I’m surprised she’s not here with Taylor, honestly. Logan seems to think they’re probably dating again, and I hate how much that possibility makes me feel nauseous.

Royce picks up the shots and hands me one. “Well, we aren’t having a repeat of that night. Here, bottoms up.”

Clinking the shots together, we drink them down, Royce grimacing while I smack my lips at the taste of sweet Southern Comfort whiskey. He stares into the empty glass before his hazel eyes flick up to mine, a spark of mischief in them.

“Did he say order whatever we want?”

“Uh, maybe we shouldn’t, Royce.” Running a hand through my hair, a hint of unease skitters across my skin, but he’s already grinning broadly.

Clapping me on the shoulder, he tells me he’ll be back before going to the bar. So I slide back into my seat and pull out my phone, genuinely trying not to look over at Taylor, but as always, he’s like a gravitational constant pulling me in, and I can’t help it. The minute my eyes find him, I feel my mouth go dry.

His denim jacket is gone, and a loose black tank top hangs from his shoulders. There are holes cut into the fabric on thesides, the tattooed skin of his ribs playing peek-a-boo as he racks up the pool balls, his inked biceps flexing, and the pink tips of his hair fall across his face.

Fuck, he’s hot.

And I’m not the only one who notices. A group of women surround the pool table, introducing themselves to him and his friends. Or maybere-introducing with the way Christian throws his arms around some of them like they’ve met before. A blonde chick with a low neckline and ample cleavage puts her hand on Taylor’s arm while he chalks the tip of his pool stick, and he looks down at her with a sultry smile that makes my stomach clench. He hasn’t even glanced my way when Iknowhe can feel my eyes on him.

A loud thunk draws my attention to where Royce is sliding back onto his stool with a pitcher of beer, two glasses, and six shots on a tray before us.

“Jesus, Royce. What happened to wine?”

He laughs as he starts pouring up the beer. “If it’s free, I’ll drink anything. We’re getting wasted tonight, Huck.”

“Is it even legal for the bartender to give us this much at once?” Taking the glass from him, I take a sip of whatever dark Guinness he gave me while he shrugs. It’s bitter and not my usual, I’m more of an ale drinker, but Royce has a point. It’s free, so I won’t complain.

“Maybe we should just go to a different bar,” I mumble, but he’s already shaking his head before I finish.

“No, no way, babe. We aren’t gonna let them ruin our night. I don’t care how close they are to the bouncer, bartender, or whoever. We were here first.”

Yeah, true, but Taylor’s currently got Blondie bent over, pressed between him and the pool table while he shows her how to break from behind, and I don’t want to see that shit.

Oldest trick in the book, asshole. Very original.

He whispers something in her ear that causes her to giggle, a high-pitched noise that carries over the music. My grip tightens on the glass so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t break. As she pulls the stick back to hit the cue ball, his hand flutters to her side, sliding down to her hip in a caressing touch, and I feel like I’m on fire, painfully melting to ash.

Why do I feel like this? Isn’t this what I wanted? For him to leave me alone?

No, I wanted revenge. And I got it. But it feels like the cost for it was my goddamn soul.

“Holy shit!”

My gaze swings back over to Royce, who’s currently gaping at me with his eyes bugging out, a hand over his mouth.

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