Page 25 of The Fangirl and the Grump

He gives me a lopsided smirk. “Youlikeher.”

“The fuck I do,” I grunt. “How did you getthatout of everything I just said?”

“Because we’ve had to live with all this shit for ten years, and I’ve never once seen a tourist get under your skin the way she has.”

“You’re wrong,” I say firmly, turning my gaze back to my fishing line.

“Okay. I’m wrong.”

He says the right words, but his tone is off. Smug. Like he’s humoring me.

“Fuck you,” I growl under my breath, but there’s no heat in the words.

Bram laughs, but doesn’t say anything else. Just sits there all full of himself like an asshole, watching his own line even though neither of us has gotten a single bite. Grabbing my cooler, I pull out a beer and pop the top before taking a long swig.

“Got one of those for me, you grumpy bastard?” Bram asks, his voice still tinged with humor.

“Only if you admit you’re wrong,” I say, my eyes still on the lake as I take another long pull from the beer can.

“I already did,” he reminds me with a laugh.

“Sure, you did,” I grumble, grabbing the beer I packed for him and handing it over.

Heiswrong.

I donotlike Keegan Carpenter.

At all.

And that will never change.

ChapterEleven

Keegan

Wolfsbane Tavern is even more crowded tonight than it was last Friday when I came in with the girls. My lips automatically drop into a frown when I think of them, and I force them from my mind. I’m here to meet my new friend, Willow, who has shown me more kindness and concern in a week than those women showed me in all the years we called ourselvesfriends.

Okay, maybe Pressley acted like a real friend most of the time, but she let me down when it really mattered. She didn’t tell me the truth about Madison and Carter the second she found out. She kept the secret from me, and that is unforgivable.

“Keegan!”

I look toward the bar to see Willow waving an arm at me, a wide smile on her beautiful face. My troubled thoughts slip away, and I smile and wave back as I snake my way through the crowd toward her. The same bartender who served me before stands across the bar from her, and he’s smiling just as broadly as I approach.

Willow throws her arms around me, squeezing me tightly while saying “I’m so glad you’re here.”

I hug her back, unsure what to say. When was the last time someone acted truly happy to see me? God. That’s fucking sad. What have I been doing with my life?

“Meet Bram,” Willow says as she releases me to face the bartender with a smile. “He’s my brother’s best friend, but I’m sure you won’t hold that against him.”

Willow winks at me with that last bit, and I’m a little too stunned to respond. Trace Bardin has a friend? And not just any casual acquaintance, but someone close enough to be considered a “best friend?”

“We’ve actually met,” Bram says, saving me from my embarrassing stupor with his words and a wide, charming grin. “Are we shooting tequila again tonight?”

“Hell, no,” I say with a laugh. “Me and tequila are on the outs right now.”

“Make us four blue kamikazes,” Willow cuts in.

My head snaps toward her. “Four?”

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