Page 43 of Second Chance Ex
Milly pours Adam a shot of tequila and he tips it back, eyes fixed directly on me as he does.
I swear, I’m going to fucking murder this kid.
“Okay… let’s play something else!” Madison suggests, clapping her hands together in an attempt to lighten the suddenly tense mood. And it doesn’t take a damn genius to understand what she’s trying to do; there’re only two names left in that bowl.
“Yeah, maybe a game of basketball does sound fun after all,” Heather chimes in.
“No,” I say, sitting forward and resting my elbows on my knees. I ignore the feel of Jessie’s nails pinching my thigh through my jeans, my gaze set intently on Prue. “Let’s finish the game.”
“O-kay.” Milly heaves a sigh, holding the bowl out for Adam and he grins like an asshole, reaching in and pulling out a balled-up piece of paper.
“Joey.” He flashes me a cocky grin as he falls back against the couch cushion next to Prue, his gaze remaining on me, hand on her thigh as if that’s where it belongs.
And I’m really going to enjoy breaking every single one of his fingers.
“Truth,” I say before Milly can even ask the question.
You could cut the tension in the room with a goddamn plastic knife. Everyone is looking from Adam to me, to Milly, to Prue, to me again; the air turning thick and uneasy.
With another sigh, Milly picks up a card, but as she reads the question printed on it, I see her shoulders fall, a look in her eyes like she really, really doesn’t want to read whatever it is out loud. She flashes a furtive glance at Prue before turning back to me.
“Joey, what’s your biggest… regret?” Milly tosses the offending card to the coffee table and then proceeds to take a swig from the bottle of Patrón. Can’t say I blame her.Fuck me.
As the loaded question hangs in the air, I take a moment to look at everyone, noticing identical expressions of discomfort at the very thought of dredging up my well-documented past indiscretions. Heather worries her bottom lip between her teeth, staring at the fire in the hearth like she can’t possibly take her eyes off the flames. Heath glances up at the beams in the ceiling. Madison buries her head in her hands. Ryan just stares at me, and I know what he’s thinking;don’t.
Finally, I look at Prue, finding her watching me with a stark look on her face, her eyes wide, a little glassy, maybe even tinged with fear. But the thing is I don’t need to tell the truth because every fucker here already knows it, and the last thing I want to do is revisit the shitty things I did in my past. So, instead of taking a simple shot of tequila like I should, I do possibly the only thing that could be worse than bringing up the past. I lie. And, I do it solely for the purpose of intentionally trying to hurt the one person I swore I’d never hurt again.
“My biggest regret is… probably when I misjudged Warner’s direction during the Hawks game last season,” I say, ignoring the stifled gasps that come from Heather and Milly, the look of utter death Madison is shooting me right now.
I relax back in my seat, puffing air from my cheeks and I continue, because right now I’m a drunk asshole. “Man, if I’d have just dummied left instead of right, I would’ve sacked that bastard. Damn well cost us the fucking Championship.”
Silence ensues. A heavy and gross silence that makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end. And I’m fully aware of everyone glaring at me, gawping at me incredulously like they can’t believe I just said that.
I could’ve easily been the bigger man, left well enough alone, taken the damn shot and moved on. But no. I had to go and be a dick. And I don’t feel good about it. Honestly, I feel like shit, but I keep my chin held high in a show of confidence I have no right in having because, again, I’m an asshole.
“P, are you okay?” Madison’s hushed voice interrupts my hate-filled thoughts.
I come to, and force my eyes to meet with those of the once-was love of my life, the always-will-be love of my life, and when I see nothing but pain in her striking amber gaze, I swear my fucking heart rips in two.
Prue tears her eyes from mine and looks down at the empty glass in her visibly shaking hand. She licks her lips, pressing them together in some semblance of a fleeting smile, nodding once. Offering a quick glance at Madison, she stands and, without a word, she walks out of the room, flashing me one last look of betrayal on her way, before disappearing through the archway.
“Prue?” Adam jumps up, but he’s stopped by Heather telling him to give her a moment.
“What the fuck, man?” Ryan hisses, glowering at me.
I avoid his hard stare, looking down at my hands in my lap. I know I’m the bad guy, I don’t need to see it in my best friend’s eyes.
“Nice one, JT,” Madison mutters. And from my periphery, I see her stand.
I lift my chin in time to catch the narrow-eyed glower she throws me as she hurries out of the room, following after her best friend.
Istand on the front porch, staring out over the lake, arms wrapped around myself. It’s snowing even harder now. And freezing. But I’m so fucking worked up I can’t even feel the bitter sting of cold through the thin sweater I’m wearing. Anger, embarrassment, betrayal, shame, and hurt course through my blood causing my body to tremble, or maybe that’s from the cold, I don’t even know anymore.
How could he? How could he do that to me, in front of all our friends?
The question was about the biggest regret of his life, something everyone in there already knew the goddamn answer to, and he starts going on about a fucking football game? Again, even now, he still continues to use football to hurt me, choosing it over me and in the worst possible way, making my feelings seem less significant.
Behind me, the monstrous front door creaks on its hinges, but I don’t chance a glance back. I swear, if he so much as even considers coming out here to apologize…
