Page 38 of The Way We Are

Ryan

I stop glaring at Axel’s taillight when a soft voice snarls, “God I hate him.”

Justine stops to stand beside me, her face as tormented as mine. Although our contact the past few years was lacking compared to what it once was, we’ve had more interaction than Savannah and I did. Like many of us, Justine was an innocent bystander in a war none of us belonged in.

“Not an Axel Monroe fan?” I ask Justine, acting like I haven’t spotted the disdain burning in her unique blue-green eyes.

She gags, making me grin. “He’s an asshole who shouldn’t be allowed within an inch of Savannah.”

I nod my head in full agreement. “Have you told Savannah how you feel?” I ask with hope in my voice. The more anti-Axel supporters I amass, the more chance I have of making Savannah see sense.

Justine tightens her arms under her breasts, commanding the attention of every male in the vicinity. All but one. There are only one set of boobs my eyes want to see—they aren’t ones belonging to my girl’s best friend.

“I’ve told her a dozen times this week alone. My brothers have warned her away from him a hundred times. Even my dad sat down and talked to her last month. She isn’t listening.” Justine drags her teeth over her bottom lip, instigating a gruff moan from Brax, who is loitering at our right. “She’d listen to you, Ryan.”

I huff. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

Justine bows her brow, calling out my lie with a confidence not many soon-to-be eighteen-year-olds hold.

“You straight up told her to leave Axel?” Her voice is drenched with sarcasm.

“Not in thoseexactwords, but she knows what I’m thinking. I don’t need to tell her.”

I swear Brax is on the verge of coronary failure when Justine tightens her arms more, hoisting her bosoms even higher on her chest. He isn’t the only one with an out-of-control heart rate. Justine’s glare is brutal, potent enough to dry every hair on my head.

“Girls need words, Ryan. Savannah needs words.Yourwords.”

“I don’t have that type of influence over her anymore, Justine. We’ve talked more the past two weeks than we have the past five years.”

Justine huffs. “Funny. You may not have spoken, but she mentioned your nameevery single dayfor the past five years.”

I take a step back, physically stunned by her revelation. “She spoke of me every day?” I’m certain I heard her wrong.

“Yes, Ryan. Every. Day. You weren’t the only one suffering the past five years; so was Savannah. She loved you, but by the time she realized it, shethoughtshe had lost you.” She glides her hand down my arm before lifting her frank eyes to mine. “Don’t let her assume wrong a second time around.”

I stare at her, blinking and mute. I’m truly lost for words. Not just because I’m a fumbling teen with communication issues, but because I’m stunned by her admission that Savannah loved me. I’ve always known Savannah was special, but love...Fuck!Is that why my heart goes crazy every time I think about her? Because I love her?

Though my brain feels overloaded, I nod my head, agreeing with Justine’s plea.

“You’ll speak to her?”

When I nod again, she claps her hands together, her joy uncontained.

“Good. You can do it tonight at my party. Brax has all the details. It starts at nine. Don’t be late.”

Not waiting for me to reply, she skips back to the car she’s cleaning, her steps as spirited as the grin on her face. She looks like a chubby kid entering Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, like her every wish was just granted.

I’m glad I have her confidence, but I’m also shitting my pants. I’m not worried about Axel’s reaction to me calling him out as the douchebag he is; I’m fucking petrified of putting my relationship with Savannah on the line so soon after being reacquainted.

If given the option, I’d prefer to have a few more weeks before throwing a massive obstacle in our way. But I also know the longer I wait, the deeper Axel will sink his hooks into her. So really, there's no other option. I need to get Savannah away from Axel. And the sooner I do that, the better it will be for all involved.

Justine stops scrubbing the front fender of some old geezer’s BMW when I call her name. Her red hair falls into her face when she cranks her neck in my direction.

“Is Axel invited to your party?” I ask.

“Fucking shoot me,” Brax murmurs under his breath when Justine smiles a shit-eating grin before shaking her head.

“No boys are invited,” she explains, her voice extra throaty.

---