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“Wants to,” I emphasize.
“Yeah. Well, you’re no walk in the park either. Maybe you should give Keith a chance.”
“Maybe I will.”
He scoffs, putting his foot up on the patio table in front of him. “Let me know how that goes.”
I can tell by his tone he’s calling my bluff. I hate that he’s right, and I hate that he knows he’s right.
Staring out at the people around the bonfire again, I try to find a sliver of what I was feeling when I first walked out here, but my perspective has already shifted. The energy that felt electric and lively now feels loud and overbearing. Someone throws a fresh pallet onto the fire with a crash, and an explosion of sparks flies up toward the sky, and large speakers carry a techno beat that’s bound to give me a headache at some point.
“Hey,” I finally say as I look over at him. “What was the name of that song you played for me?”
Rolling his head to look at me, he mutters, “Huh?”
“The song you played before. What was it?”
He shifts to get a better look at me, a slow smile creeping at the corner of his mouth. “You like my music.”
“Forget it,” I huff. “Give me the bottle.”
He sits upright, shaking his head. “No, no, no.” He sets down the whiskey and leans his elbows on his knees. “I want to hear this. You liked my music so much you’ve been thinking about it for weeks?”
“I said forget it.” I reach for the bottle at his feet, but he moves it to his other side. “I knew you’d be an asshole about it.”
He gapes at me. “I would do no such thing.” With a lift of his shoulder, he adds, “If anything, I’m glad I could show you the light.”
“Oh, my God.” I get to my feet. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
I’m already walking away when he calls out after me, “Aw, come on, Red. I’ll tell you the song.” But it only makes me bristle more. No song is worth subjecting myself to that condescending jerk. Let him keep his music.
16
jackson
She’s impossible.
Reaching down, I grab the bottle and take a bigger sip than I have all night. I can go days—weeks—without thinking about her, but as soon as we’re in the same room, I’m either agitated or hellbent on pissing her off.
My mouth lingers against the bottle—where hers just was. Pulling back, I run my tongue over my bottom lip at the thought.
“Hey,” Matt’s voice pulls me back to the present. Looking over, I see his head poking out of the sliding glass door. “Get in here, would you? We’re about to play a game.”
For a second, I consider telling him no, but he gives me a pleading grin that makes me change my mind. “How’d you know I was out here?” I ask once I’m walking through the open door, whiskey bottle in hand.
He lets out a breath of laughter. “Rae asked Margot where you were, and she said we’d find you miserable and alone on the back porch.”
“I wasn’t miserable,” I mutter, taking another sip from the bottle.
He shakes his head as he leads me through the crowd. “You sure looked it.”
I scoff. “Well, I wasn’t miserable until . . .” My voice trails because when I think back on the time we spent outside together, I didn’t hate it. If anything, I was kind of disappointed when she walked away. Something about tonight has me paying more attention to Margot, and it needs to stop.
Matt just raises his hands in surrender. “Leave me out of it, man.”
“Oh, good! Now we can start,” Rae says when she sees us. “We’re playing Never Have I Ever.”
Keith laughs. “The ultimate ice-breaker.”
