Page 11 of It's Complicated

“Okay.” Asa sipped his drink, his black nails stark against the pale ale inside the glass. “If you say so.”

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to Asa about things; it was more that I had no idea what the fuck to say.

So me and Jamie had a threesome last week, but instead of paying attention to the girl, I spent the whole time focused on him and staring into his eyes until we came at the same time. And did I mention that the stupid mesh shirt he has on under his tee is actually really hot on him, and I have no idea why the fuck my dick likes it?

Yeah, that wasn’t exactly a five-minute conversation you could have at the bar with your buddy.

“I’m just going to say something,” Asa said after a pause. “You can do with it what you will, but I think you need to hear it.”

I forced myself to focus on him and stop thinking about Jamie and his redhead for a second.

“You and Jamie are unshakable. Your friendship is the kind that most of us dream of finding. Don’t be a dumbass and shuthim out like you do whenever things get difficult.” He held up his hand, stopping my protests before they could start.

“You know you do it, and it’s not your fault. Just don’t push him away because you’re panicking about something. Talk to him, trust him. Don’t let the shit other people have done to you fuck things up with him.”

Slowly, I nodded, taking in every word.

Jamie was my best friend, my ride-or-die, but Asa was my next closest friend. We’d spent a lot of time together over the past three years, and I’d told him more about my life and all the things I kept bottled up than anyone, even Jamie.

Maybe it was because he was so mature for his age that I forgot I was talking to a twenty-two-year-old and not some old person with a ton of life experience and all the wisdom of the world. Asa was also an incredibly good listener. He didn’t just listen to you. He heard you. And he always seemed to know exactly what to say to help me work shit out when I needed it.

I trusted him, and if he was telling me to be careful, then I was going to be careful.

“Thanks. That helped.” I toasted him with my soda.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “No big.”

Almost without my permission, my eyes wandered back to where Jamie was still getting his flirt on with the redhead, who was practically rubbing up against him like a cat in heat now. My mood soured even more.

What the fuck was wrong with me? First I’d gotten jealous enough to agree to a damn threesome when he’d been flirting with April, and now I was seething because he was chatting up some random?

This was what we did. We worked hard and played harder. But tonight wasn’t supposed to be about picking up. We’d come here to have a few drinks with the guys from my shop and hang out.

But that hadn’t happened. Currently, only Asa and I were still at the table.

Jamie was off with his redhead, and Zander was outside getting some air. He wasn’t a fan of crowds, and it wasn’t unusual for him to need to disappear for a bit when we were out. Luka was talking to a blonde near the pool tables, and Jesse was off somewhere making moon-eyes at his boyfriend.

“You still look stabby,” Asa commented.

“I still feel stabby.” I downed a few gulps of my soda, the burning in my throat from the carbonation helping to ground me. “I need a distraction.”

“We could play pool,” Asa suggested with a grin.

“And have you sink all your balls before I even get a shot in? No thanks. I’d like to keep at least a shred of my dignity tonight.”

The first time I played pool against Asa had been a lesson in humility. I hadn’t learned until after that game that he was an actual pool shark and routinely rolled guys for money when they underestimated his skills.

“Darts?” He paused. “Probably not a good idea to give you a weapon you can throw right now.”

“Probably not,” I agreed.

“Then I got nothing.” He shrugged.

“Do you have to head out soon?” I asked, glancing at my watch.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the screen, then tucked it away with a sigh. “Yeah.”

“Where is everyone?” Jamie asked, coming up to the table with a pitcher in his hand.

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