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“And he kissed you a few weeks ago,” she adds when I don’t answer.
“To make me mad,” I deflect.
Rae rolls her eyes. “That doesn’t make sense. Who does that?” Leveling with me, she says, “He kissed you because he wanted to kiss you, and now he wants you to have his phone number, so what’s the holdup?”
I play with the straw in my cup. “He’s leaving. He wants to go on tour with his band.” I give her a pointed look. “As he should.” My eyes drift back to my drink. “And I . . .” Shaking my head, I shrug. “I don’t know what I want.”
It’s a lie. I know I want him, but I also know that starting a long-distance relationship is stupid. If a couple has been together for a while and then has to part ways, I understand trying to make it work. But trying to establish any type of relationship with someone touring in a rock band—where he’ll have new girls at his feet every night—is a different story.
I’m snapped out of my thoughts when Rae slaps the counter playfully. “You should have told me! The four of us could have hung out all semester.”
Taking another sip of my drink, I grimace. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
Her face falls. “What? Why?”
I give her a knowing look. “Come on. You and Matt are a perfect couple, and Jackson and I are . . .” I shrug. “Nothing.”
“How many times were you two ‘nothing?’” she asks with a lift of her brow.
I wince. “A few.”
“Margot!” She gapes at me and shakes her head. “You should have told me!”
“I know,” I groan, finally surrendering. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to get your hopes up. I didn’t want things to be awkward whenever it inevitably ended.”
The corner of her mouth lifts, and her eyes settle on something behind me. “Well,” she nods to whatever she’s looking at. “He looks like he still has a few things he’d like to say to you.”
Bracing myself, I look over my shoulder to find Jackson headed straight for us with his phone in hand.
Shit.
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“Do you want to tell me why I’ve gotten six text messages telling me I’m a piece of shit and to leave cats alone?” I lean my forearms on the bar top next to Margot. I know she’s behind this—she has to be.
Turning away from Rae, she stares up at me with wide, deceivingly innocent eyes. “No.”
My phone lights up in my hand, and I set it on the counter. “Make that seven.”
Rae grins at us, which can only mean one thing.
Margot told her.
I don’t know how much or how little, but Rae knows something happened between us. Clearing her throat, she says, “It looks like Matt needs me. I’ll see you later.”
Margot turns to look at her friend, and Rae’s eyes bulge at Margot before she steps away.
She seems to take a moment to compose herself before turning to face me, taking a long sip of her drink in the process.
I raise my eyebrows. “Well?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She takes another sip. Turning to the bartender, she signals for another, and he calls out, “Sure thing, sweetheart.”
I stare at the bartender as he gives her a wink. Jesus. Keith and now this guy?
Shifting my attention back to her, I say, “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” The pub is packed now, and I’m close enough to smell her strawberry shampoo. It makes me want to reach out and touch her.
