Page 147 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
“Says you.”
“You know you’re weird, right?” Levi takes the drinks Celi passes him. “Like messed up in the head.”
“Not as messed up as Bronx tryin’ to steal Hart’s girl.” Dean slaps my chest. “I mean, this guy’s been in it for the long-haul.”
The only long-haul thing I’ve been in is watching her from a painful distance. That’s the truth. Add in that I’ve hurt her so deeply she’ll never forgive me. And I’d never ask her to.
Where the fuck does that leave me?
“Relax, man.” Bronx nods at me. “I know I’ve got a lot of charm, but that’s all it is.”
“He just loves getting under everyone’s skin,” Celi swivels on the stool, her arms loaded with drinks, and she effortlessly passes them out from the neat line the bartender set on the counter. “Jade’s too smart to fall for him.”
“I’m insulted,” Bronx says.
I take my drink. “She’s too smart to fall for me.” I throw it back and order another.
I keep a low profile for the rest of the night, debating leaving so many times my head hurts.
I park myself furthest from Jade, letting the noise of the bar swallow me. One hand around my drink, the other tucked in my pocket. Conversations swirl around me, but I stay quiet.
My eyes on the glass, taking small sips between glances at the room.
Who am I kidding?
Glances at her.
But she’s never looking at me. She’s laughing, drinking, and joking in a way I haven’t seen. She’s entirely in the moment, alive, untouchable.
I see it. I see her. And I should be pissed that she’s not even glancing my way.
But how can I be, when she’s this damn happy?
I’m jealous.
Dammit, I’m jealous.
I look at Levi and Hope, and the jealousy deepens.
I debate leaving again and somehow end up at the indoor horseshoe pits paired up with Levi.
Just fucking great.
Dean and Bronx fight head-on about their grilling expertise.
“Man, if you think your brisket could ever top mine, you’re living in a dream.” Dean throws his horseshoe with one hand while holding his beer in the other.
His shot lands just short of the stake.
Bronx takes a long sip of his beer, eyeing the throw with a smirk. “You really want to go there again? Your ‘brisket’ is just a pile of burnt ends and tears.”
Dean chokes on his beer and shakes his head. “Burnt ends? Fuck you. You wouldn’t know real meat if it slapped you in the face.”
Bronx tosses his horseshoe, landing it perfectly on target. “I know real meat, alright. Yours is overcooked. But hey, at least it’s consistent. Too bad it’s consistently dry.”
They continue their banter as they step out of the pit.
“You’re unusually quiet tonight.” Levi hands me a horseshoe as we step into the pit. “You’re usually quiet, but tonight, you seem off.”
