“You’ll be alone forever if you only keep dating those scary women you’re always bringing around.” Oliver shuddered.
“What can I say? I have a type.” I took another slow pull of my beer, smirking at the thought.
I knew exactly what kind of woman my demeanor attracted—intense, daring, the kind not easily scared off. I wore my standoffish look like armor, and the ones who braved it were often just as inked and no-nonsense as I was. They were the type who liked a challenge. The type who just threw me a simple “fuck you” when it inevitably didn’t work out, instead of writing me a sonnet about how heartbroken they were.
They weren’t soft. Unlike the red-headed cinnamon roll currently seated to my left.
“Well, your type is terrifying. You should find yourself anicegirl. Preferably one who doesn’t attempt to vandalize my house when you don’t call them back.” Oliver got up to retrieve another bottle of wine for the group, stopping by Lila’s chair in the process. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and leaned down so he could press the side of his face against hers. “Someone like this little ray of sunshine.”
“Shut up,” she whispered, but a smile remained plastered to her face.
A small fire lit in my chest watching them so at ease with each other. It was a feeling that had become more and more frequent as I watched them interact, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint the underlying motive. Was I jealous that my best friend was getting closer to someone else? Or was I just irritated that she was around?
As if she could read my thoughts, Lila’s gaze flitted to mine before I quickly dropped it.
Wherever the feeling of frustration was coming from, I just ignored it like I always did.
“You know, you two really should talk.” Oliver pointed between Lila and me. “Harrison here is having some website issues. He could really use your help.”
“What kind of issues?” Nathan and Ben both looked up.
“It’s nothing.” I flashed a warning look at Oliver, urging him to drop it. The last thing I wanted to do was discuss my business issues in front of a table full of start-up-crazy tech fanatics. The tattoo shop I’d owned for the past three years had been experiencing a bit of a downswing the past few months, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. And it certainly wasn’t something I was going to go begging for help with.
“More of a branding thing,” Oliver continued, clearly not oblivious to my irritation, but choosing to ignore it all the same. “He’s trying to make it more user-friendly or some shit.”
“Branding.” Interest painted Lila’s face at the word.
“It’s nothing,” I repeated, this time more sternly.
“I could take a look if you want,” Lila offered.
“Lila, are you serious? You’re so busy right now.” Concern filled Charlie’s voice as she eyed her best friend.
“I’m notthatbusy,” Lila said defensively.
“Where are you hosting?” Nathan asked.
“You own a tattoo parlor, right? What’s your current demo like?” Ben pressed.
“Like you know anything about tattoo parlors.” Skylar snorted with laughter.
Heat rose to my face as chatter about websites and branding flew from all sides of the table.
“Can we just drop this,” I said loudly, unable to keep my cool.
Silence fell over the group. One fork hit the table and the sound reverberated around the whole yard.
Oliver, finally taking the fucking hint, backed away from Lila and resumed scanning the bar. “Should I open a white or a red?”
Grateful for the distraction, everyone resumed their mindless chatter and I sat there, still stewing. Weakness wasn’t something I took lightly, and Oliver parading my problems around for everyone to see infuriated the hell out of me. But when he sat back down and poured more wine in my glass first, offering me an apologetic half-smile, I knew I’d already forgiven him.
Because when push came to shove, I couldn’t alienate him for meddling in my life when he was the only person who cared enough to even try. A consequence I had brought upon myself, but a consequence I still felt the weight of, nonetheless.
“I really could help,” a small whisper floated up to my ears. “If you wanted, that is.”
Lila’s cheeks reddened when I glanced down at her, but she forced herself to keep eye contact. God, why did she have to be soniceall the damn time? Made it a lot harder on me to keep this divide up between us when it was so painfully obvious that all she wanted was my acceptance.
“I’m good.” Keeping my tone curt, I resumed staring straight ahead.
