Page 11 of Best Friends
She lights up at his attention, giving a little giggle.
“I’m going to get some air.” I stand abruptly and drain my beer. Then I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and head for the back exit. I hear Malcolm call after me, but I ignore him. I’m in a pissy mood now and I need to be alone. I don’t really understand the emotions I’m feeling, and it’s best if I work it out by myself.
The minute I’m outside, the cool air of the evening calms me. It stinks because there are dumpsters at the back of the bar, so I make my way across the street. There’s a small park across from the bar with grass and tall, thin aspens. I used to go over there for a smoke, but I gave up cigarettes many years ago. I’d love a cigarette right now though. I often crave them when I’m stressed.
I make my way to a small grove of trees where there’s a picnic bench. I sit down and stare up at the trees, listening to the wind whispering through the leaves. This is better. I needed some space from people. Usually, I’d have had some laughs with Malcolm to take away my stress, but tonight that blonde girl interrupted our time together. He’d have eventually gone off with some omega, but usually we’d have spent a little more time together winding down from work.
Maybe I need to stop coming by Frankie’s after work until I get my emotions under control. I don’t like feeling possessive of Malcolm. I suspect because we crossed a line with each other, my omega instincts make me see him as a virile alpha now, rather than just a platonic friend. I don’t like it one bit. I just want these confused feelings to go away. If I’d known this might happen, I’d never have fooled round with Malcolm.
When the back door of Frankie’s opens, and Malcolm walks out, my pulse spikes. I’m tempted to hide behind a bush, but before I can make myself move, he looks around and spots me. With a shake of his head, he starts toward me, carefully crossing the street. Thankfully he doesn’t have that blonde omega with him.
He reaches me, scowling. “What are you doing out here?”
“I needed some fresh air.” I avoid his gaze. “It was too stuffy in there.”
He’s quiet for a minute, then says softly, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.” I force myself to meet his gaze. I’ll cut my tongue out before I admit seeing him with that girl bugs me.
He sighs with frustration. “Come on, I know you too well. Something is bothering you.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I told you, I just needed some fresh air. You know me, I hate crowds.”
He twists his lips, studying me. “It’s not even that crowded tonight.”
“You say that because you like people.”
He sits beside me on the bench. “You promise everything is okay?”
“Yes.” I sigh. “I’m in a weird mood, that’s all.”
He smiles, turning his body to face me. “You’re always in a weird mood. Usually you’re not quite so grumpy though.”
I shrug. “It’s just been a long, tiring day. I probably should have gone straight home.”
He gently elbows me. “You promise I didn’t say something that upset you?”
“I promise. It’s just the usual stuff bothering me, Malcolm. I’ll be fine.”
“Well, if you’re sure you’re not upset about anything.”
“I’m not,” I lie.
He pats my leg and I stiffen. “Hey, I met that blonde chick’s friend Jenny. She’s pretty and she really does think you’re cute. She said she’d love to party with you.”
“I don’t know, man—”
“Come on,” Malcolm says coaxingly. “We should take those girls back to my place. We could have a foursome, or if you just want that girl all to yourself, you can take the guest room. We haven’t partied with girls at my house for ages. What do you say?”
His suggestion is nothing new for us. We’ve done that plenty of times. Take two girls home and fuck them, sometimes together, sometimes separate. It’s no big deal to us. We’re best buds. We do everything together. So then why do I feel like puking at the idea tonight? I’m not even remotely interested in sex with some girl. What’s more worrisome is that I’m bothered by the idea of watching him fuck that blonde omega. I don’t think I can handle it.
“Nah.” I stand quickly and meet his confused gaze. “I’m not up for it tonight. You’ll have to fly solo on the pussy front tonight, dude.”
“What?” He scowls. “Why?”
“I’m not in the mood, that’s all.” I turn toward the street. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work.” There’s no way I’m going back inside that bar. I just want to go home, eat dinner, and go to bed early.
“C.,” he calls after me, sounding frustrated. “What the fuck is wrong?”
