Page 20 of Forever & Always You
My rage bubbles over and I ram my knees into his legs as Istand. I don’t dare look at Sasha to see her expression, because all I can focus on is Austin and that nasty smirk of his as it deepens. My body feels like it’s on fire, and I know I need to leave immediately before I say something I’ll regret.
I storm through the bar, the sea of faces nothing but a blur through my angry tears, and burst outside into the evening humidity. I may have treated Austin terribly in the past, but at least I’m trying to be better. Him, however? He’s a fucking jerk.
My hands shake as I pull out my phone and text Zach to come pick me up.
“Not fun, is it, Gabrielle?” Austin’s voice reverberates down the street, and I twist my body to look at him, feeling even more enraged that he’s followed me outside to taunt me further. “Being humiliated.”
“Are you happy now?” I snap, stepping forward and poking a finger into his chest. “Congratulations! You made fun of my sad little life, but you know what? Good! At least now you’re no better than me. We’re both assholes.”
“You made it too easy, Gabrielle,” he says, dropping his gaze to my finger still jabbed into his shirt. He places his hand over mine, his grip tight.
“Stop calling me Gabrielle!”
Austin drunkenly smiles. “Aw, c’mon, Gabster.”
“Youalwayscalled me Gabby.”
“That was back when we were friends,” he says.
“And we definitely aren’t friends now.”
“Definitely not friends now.”
My eyes dip from his blue eyes to his hand wrapped around mine, and suddenly my voice feels so small and vulnerable. “Then why are we standing out here together?”
All of the oxygen seems to get sucked out of the air around us and the atmosphere becomes so unbearably tense that I become hyperaware of every single pulse in my body. Austin lowers ourhands from his chest and releases his hold on mine, but my gaze is so fastened on his face, I don’t miss the nervous gulp he takes before parting his lips to speak.
“I was a dick in there, but youdiddeserve it,” he says, voice lowered. “For what’s it worth, I do feel bad, and I’m sorry for throwing you under the bus in front of Sasha like that.”
“How do you even know her?” I demand, and I pretend to ignore the fact there’s still only less than a foot of space between us. “She was never nice to you back in high school, either, yet somehow she gets off lightly?”
“Because I only ever cared about you,” he murmurs. “It hurt more when it was you, Gabby.”
The wine starts to swirl in my stomach, and I know we shouldn’t continue this conversation in the middle of the street when we’re both drunk, but I just can’t tear myself away from him. Maybe it’s that same magnetic force that drew us together as kids that’s drawing me to him now. Austin may have just embarrassed me inside the bar, yet I’m still standing here in front of him, clutching at straws.
“Can we fix this?” I ask sharply.
Austin furrows his eyebrows. “Fix this?”
“Us. Our friendship,” I clarify. “Is the damage irreparable or is there some tiny, slim chance that maybe we don’t have to walk away from one another tonight and never see each other again? Because I’d like to be friends. Please?”
“Even after what I just did back in there?”
“I’ll forgive you,” I say slowly, “if you can forgive me.”
“I can’t promise that, Gabby,” he says with a shake of his head. He closes the gap between us and ducks to match my height, our gazes level. “But Icanpromise to try. It might take a while. But I’ll try, okay?”
“Thank you,” I breathe, and I honestly feel the weight lift from my shoulders for the briefest of moments before my mindregisters just how close Austin is. His slow breaths brush over my skin and as much as I want to step back out of uncertainty, the desire to be this close to him is even stronger. “How about,” I whisper in fear of breaking the bubble around us, “we start from a clean slate? No more humiliating each other. We’ll be nice.”
“I won’t humiliate you again,” Austin promises.
“And you’ll be nice?”
He pouts playfully, eyes dancing over every inch of my face. “But I’ve enjoyed being mean to you today. How am I going to keep being mean to you if you go back to Durham?”
I can’t bear the tension of this proximity for a second longer, because our mouths being so close is making me feel dizzy, and not in an “ew, why am I this close to my childhood best friend?” kind of way. I retreat a few steps from him and he straightens back up.
“Crap apartment with no plumbing,” I say, weighing the options with my hands, “or Priscilla McKinley’s scalding judgment?”
