Page 73 of Forever Yours

“Hey!”

We played swords with our metal utensils until she won and claimed her bite of my dessert.

“Yours looks better,” she said, taking another bite while ignoring the chocolate cake she ordered. “You haven’t said how you’re going to handle Marshall. God, I hate that pompous bastard. So much.”

Jessi had been the only person I had told what the guy said.

“Haven’t decided yet.”

She pointed her spoon at me. “He has a serious hard-on for you to still hold a grudge over what happened in high school. I mean, seriously, the guy is a psycho. He had his friend come after you.”

A grudge? Not likely. It was a game to him. Marshall was never going to leave me alone. I was a toy for him to play with, my torture his amusement. He would never stop bullying me.

Unless I made him.

Adrenaline mainlined through my veins, my anger growing like a brushfire out of control.

“Babe, let go.”

Jessi was trying to unclench my hand gripping the handle of the serrated steak knife that had been rolled in the napkin with the fork and spoon. I hadn’t even noticed I had grabbed it.

“Why don’t you let Fallon handle Marshall?” she asked quietly and looped a purple strand of hair behind her ear. It was something she did when she was nervous.

Because as much as I appreciated Fallon’s support and friendship, I had to fight my own battles. I had to take a stand.

“I’ll handle Marshall.”

She studied me for a minute, then went back to eating her cake.

“Di says she wants to come to New York for Thanksgiving. You and Julien should come. We could make it a thing.”

Flippantly, without meaning to, I remarked, “I hope there’s still a Julien and me by November.”

Her assessing eyes lifted to mine again. “You’ve been through a lot this past year. Your mom, Julien, Marshall. Have you ever sat down and thought about what it is thatyouwant?”

The only thing I ever truly wanted was Julien.

“Julien.”

She huffed at my answer. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Take Julien out of the equation for a second. What does Elijah Barnes really want?”

“Julien.”

She smacked a palm to her face. “Oh my god. You are the most difficult person to talk to sometimes.”

I grinned. “You’re welcome.”

“Let me postulate something for you.”

“Can you even spell that?”

She kicked me under the table. “Please shut up.”

I mimed zipping my mouth closed.

With a flurry of hand gestures, she said, “Okay, hear me out. And this is just a hypothetical. What about David?”

I ripped pieces off my napkin. “Don’t make me regret telling you stuff.”

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