Page 12 of Revive

“I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“Even though I think you’re wrong, it doesn’t matter because you’re here. Right now. And that’s what’s most important.”

A knock on the door sounds before Taylah’s head pops in. “You guys down for pizza and beer or Chinese and beer?”

“Pizza and beer,” Jagger and I respond in unison.

“God, how often do you two practice that?” she asks before walking out and shutting the door behind her.

Scanning the floor, I pick up loose plastic, nuts, bolts and whatever tools we used to assemble the furniture.

“So, you and Taylah, huh?”

“Me and Taylah?”

He punches me in the arm. “You were about to fuck her on my kitchen bench.”

I smirk thinking about it. He’s on the money, if we were alone any longer it probably would’ve happened. She was there. Sexy as hell, and willing. “What does it matter? It’s not like I’m marrying the girl.”

“Just remember she’s Emerson’s friend,” he says, his voice serious, a complete change from the jokester he was seconds before.

“And?” We share a brain, I always know what’s coming next, but I’m playing dumb. Purposefully leaving no room for misunderstanding, I want him to spell out whatever his problem is.

“Have fun but don’t let it get messy.”

“Messy how?”

“She’s Emerson’s friend and I don’t want it to be awkward if you fuck her and run.”

I clench my jaw in frustration, reminiscing about my time away when I didn’t have to explain anything to anyone or worry about anything but myself. Moments like this, I wish I was still there. “While it’s none of your business and hasn’t been for a very long time, have you met Taylah? You think she’s the type to let any guy treat her less than she deserves?”

“She’d probably cut your dick off.”

“Exactly. I thank you for your concern, but I’m just going to do us all a favour and not go there. I don’t need to end up in this situation with you.”

“What situation?”

“The one where every woman that spends longer than two minutes in my presence is somehow attached to you and your life.”

“I—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Jagger.” I stand and scan the room, making sure the mess around us is cleared. “Forget I said anything.” With my hands full, I make my way to the door. “Let’s go drink beer.”

“Drix.”

“No. Beer. Please.”

We step outside, one after the other, and the tension follows each of our steps. Emerson and Taylah’s voices become quieter, acknowledging the change between us. The air thickens and I don’t have it in me to make it better and play nice. “I’m just going to chuck all this shit in the bin outside.”

“Drix,” Jagger calls out after me.

I flip open the lids of the two bins by the side of the house, separating the shit in my hands between them.

“Drix,” he repeats, his voice closer.

“I said drop it, Jagger.”

“I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. It’s your life.”

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