Page 50 of We Burn Beautiful

“No. I can’t talk about it, because if I talk about it, I’m going to say something that’s going to ruin what little you’re letting me have. You just said so, remember? IfIcan’t get past this, you don’t know how we can still be friends. Those wereyourwords. So, I’m happy, okay? I’m happy for you. Because if I’m happy, I get to keep you. If I’m happy, I get to keep you for however much or little you’ll allow.” I reached up, shoving another tear away with more force than necessary. “I’m just so happy for you. ‘Cause you’re my friend. ‘Cause you’re my friend, and I don’t want to lose you. So please, just let me fucking be happy for you.” My grip around the duffle bag loosened, and as I stared at Gray’s feet, it fell from my hand. He walked toward me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look up. I didn’t want him to see me like that. Weak. Scared. Heartbroken.

“Half-pint,” he whispered, reaching for my shoulder.

The second his skin touched mine, I slapped his hand away. I pointed my finger an inch from his face. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

I turned around and walked to the truck, leaving him to pick up the scattered pieces of our picnic.

REASON ELEVEN

You make me laugh when I feel like crying.

I’dlostmymind.I must have. It was the only logical explanation for my actions. In a fit of madness, I had agreed to the worst proposition that had ever been propositioned. As I reread the diabolical text exchange for the twentieth time that night, I cringed.

Gray had said:I want you two to get along, Half-pint.

So, I’d said:I hope you burn in eternal Hell.

To which Gray had responded:Gosh, Kent. You can’t say stuff like that.

Which is why I’d replied:Her hair is stupid and you’re ruining your life. You’re going to be stuck with a woman wearing ankle-length denim skirts until you die. I hope you’re happy. I wish you well. Warmest goddamn regards.

And then he’d said:Shooters. Tomorrow night. Just us three. I think you’ll really like her when you get to know her. You’ll love her like I do. I just know it. Also, please don’t use the word with the G and the D in it. You know it makes me nervous.

Which would explain the temporary psychotic break that caused me to respond with:I have a GODDAMN boyfriend and he’s worth ten of you and twelve of her. He’s coming with me, and you can GODDAMN deal with it. PS: stop with the GODDAMN hair gel. You look like a GODDAMN idiot.

“You’re sure you don’t mind doing this?” I said, glancing at the man to my left. “There’s a good chance he might fire us both in a fit of rage.”

Christian, my truck-unloading workplace bestie, was grinning ear to ear. “Buddy, we make a little over minimum wage. Who the hell is he gonna replace us with? Listen, I told you, I don’t like what he’s doing to you. And it isn’t just about you. He’s stringing Sarah along for the ride. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“My ring,” I growled.

“Sorry, what?”

“Doesn’t matter. Listen, when we get in there, I want you to lay it on thick, okay? I know you’re not gay, I get that, and I don’t want you to think I’m hitting on—”

Christian rolled his eyes. “Bro, if you want me to kiss you to make your boyfriend jealous, all you have to do is ask. They’re just lips. It ain’t a big deal.” He leaned forward, his mouth opening as he approached. When we connected, his tongue darted into my mouth, exploring me with force. His breath tasted like cinnamon and chewing tobacco, and—God help me—that night, I learned the combination did unspeakable things to me. When he pulled away, I found myself frozen in place. Once I pried my eyes open, Christian was grinning ear to ear. “See? Just a kiss.”

“Just a kiss, he says,” I said, trying desperately to catch my breath. “Jesus, I’m pretty sure I just ejaculated.”

He snorted, and then he winked at me. “You ready?”

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s do this.”

***

Gray and Sarah were already at the table when we arrived. We started toward them, making it three steps before the sound of a woman’s throat clearing cracked reality right in two. I turned toward my arch-nemesis, the nameless waitress. Once again, a mystically bound stick of half-ash/half-cigarette hung from her mouth. She held out her hand and arched an eyebrow at me.

I glared at her as I fished my wallet out of my pocket. When I handed my ID to her, she smirked and shooed me away with her hand. “Just fuckin’ with you, fellow.”

“Everything about you offends me, Nameless Waitress,” I said as she stared at me like I was trash, “but that thing you do with your cigarette is pretty great.”

When we made it to the table, Gray’s eyes were almost bulging out of his head. “Christian?” he shouted. “What—I mean—you’re here with …” Gray turned and stared at me.

I smiled at him, and then I leaned over and kissed Christian on his cheek. Gray muttered G-rated curses under his breath as we took our seats. I opened my menu and stared down at the disastrous selection of appetizers laid out before me. Without missing a beat, Christian pulled the menu from my hand, having chosen to live life on the wild side for the both of us, and ordered the “WORLD RENOWNED SHOOTERS’ SUSHI!” After the order was placed, Gray placed his hand on top of Sarah’s. Right on top of the table for the whole world to see.

Every ounce of self-control left me. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that Gray’s hand didn’t belong on hers, or the three shots of Jose I’d downed before leaving my mother’s home, but I reached over and gripped Christian’s hand so tightly he winced.

Sarah was staring at us, transfixed. I figured she’d never seen two men holding hands, and I reveled in knowing that I was making her uncomfortable. I knew I had no right to be angry with her. She’d never done anything to me. Not on purpose, at least. She was just unlucky enough to attach herself to a man who was already spoken for. A man that could never belong to her. The same man who demanded I break up with Kate all those years ago, and had been willing to give me a detailed, seventeen-point summary why.

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