Page 21 of Right Where I Left You

Or she just wants everyone else to think she does.

The bar is loud enough that nobody has to force conversation. Music’s playing too loud from old speakers in the corners, pool balls cracking in the back, people yelling over each other from packed tables.

Veronica looks around with open curiosity. “This is fun.”

Gears snorts into his beer. “That’s the first time anyone’s ever called this place fun.”

“It has charm,” Veronica argues.

Maddox shoots me a sideways look over the rim of his bottle. I answer with half a shrug before taking a long pull from my beer.

“You want some shots?” Gears asks, pointing around the table.

“Fuck yes,” I answer a little too fast.

Maddox’s brows lift slightly.

I ignore it.

I need to get drunk enough to shake this feeling out of my system.

Veronica looks over at me, surprised. “You’re doing shots?”

Gears immediately loses it. “Oh, sweetheart. Crane drinks like he’s been stranded in the desert for six months.”

Veronica laughs awkwardly along with them, but I can see the shift in her expression. She’s finally figuring out that the version of me she gets on weekends isn’t the full picture, and it’s pissing her off. Veronica cares way too much about making a good impression to start something in front of my friends, but I can tell I’m going to get an ear full later tonight about it.

Gears comes back balancing four shots in his hands.

Veronica wrinkles her nose immediately. “Absolutely not.”

Before anyone can comment, I grab hers and knock it back with my own. The cheap whiskey burns all the way down and I chase it with my beer.

“Fucking Christ.” Gears mutters, watching me from the side.

“You any good at pool?” Maddox asks Veronica, nodding toward the table.

She shakes her head. “I’ve played like… twice. I’m horrible.”

Gears immediately hands her a cue. “Crane can teach you. Just don’t bet against him.” He points accusingly at me. “He’ll rob you blind.”

“You’re just a shitty player,” I scoff, waving the bartender over for another round while I finish my beer.

My brain keeps circling back to Blaire.

I can’t remember her ever mentioning going on a date before, but now I can’t stop picturing it.

What did she wear? Did she spend time getting ready? Where’d they go? Dinner probably. Some quiet restaurant somewhere. Some guy sitting across from her making her laugh.

The thought makes my stomach turn and then my brain helpfully keeps going.

Is she going to sleep with him?

I take another long drink immediately, hand tightening around the bottle's neck.

I have absolutely no room to feel possessive. None. I’ve slept with plenty of women since we split. More than enough to lose the right to care what Blaire does with her own body. But thinking about another man touching her makes something ugly crawl up my throat.

I drain the rest of my beer and immediately reach for another.