She lifts her chin toward Shane, who’s standing by the retro jukebox. “Your brother with all the tattoos. Shane, right? He stopped me when I walked out of the restroom and told me to go save you from your, and I quote, ‘cunt of an ex and her pussy fiancé.’”
That sounds like Shane. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that. You’ll be the talk of the town if anyone noticed.”
She shrugs, unaffected. “Meh, who cares. If I was given the opportunity to do that to my ex, I totally would. Gossip be damned just to see the look on his stupid face.”
Marisa slides into the booth near us, and I follow suit, sitting opposite of her.
“Bad breakup I take it?”
She blows out a groany breath. “The worst. He’s the whole reason I’m here. Cheated on me, evicted me, fired me. It was a mess.”
Jesus. And I thought I had it bad. Now I feel even worse than I already did about her first couple of weeks in Red Mountain. She was going through all of that, and then had me to deal with, too. I don’t deserve her friendship—hell, I barely deserve to be speaking to her at all.
She shimmies her shoulders absentmindedly to the upbeat country song playing. “I showed you mine. Now you have to show me yours. What’s the story?”
I take a deep breath. It’s been a while since I’ve had to rehash everything. “Laura and I were engaged.”
Marisa’s smile drops, and her back goes rigid. “Oh. Shit. I had no idea. That’s like—wow. That’s serious.”
With time having dulled the sharpness, it’s easier to talk about than it used to be. I give her a nod. “It was serious. For me, it was at least.”
“What happened? Unless you’d rather not tell me, that’s totally fine too. It’s really none of my business and I?—”
“Relax.” I chuckle, cutting off her adorable rambling. “Everyone else around here knows, you may as well, too.”
Her shoulders relax slightly, but her eyes remain soft and expectant.
“The guy she was with, Travis. He was my best friend.”
Her eyes become saucer-like, but she remains silent.
“Anyway, I’m sure you can put the pieces together. She was cheating on me with him. He was my best man. I caught them about a month before the wedding, going at it like a couple of horny teenagers, parked in the driveway of the condo Laura and I shared. They thought I had gone to bed.”
Marisa’s jaw drops. “Excuse me? I’m this close”—she pinches her fingers together for emphasis—“to putting on my thick cocktail rings and slapping her around. She seriously cheated on you”—her hand waves up and down like I’m a prize onThe Price is Right—“for that below average, crusty man?”
“The heart wants what it wants, I guess. Besides, Travis probably saved me from what would’ve been an unhappy marriage. We weren’t a good fit, and I think I thought getting married would fix all of our problems. I know she seemed awful, but that’s her defense mechanism. She’s not a bad person and neither is he, they just did a bad thing.”
Her face scrunches. “You’re a much better person than me. I hope the wires in her bra always poke at her, and I hope he misses her clit by millimeters for the rest of their lives. And I hope he has a small penis. Which I’m sure he does. He gives small dick energy vibes.”
I laugh, listening to her basically curse them. “You’re not some kind of witch, are you?”
She throws me a teasing look. “No, but I know how to find a bruja if necessary.”
This woman never fails to surprise me. Anyone else, and this night may have been ruined, but with her, it keeps getting better.
Elyse returns with Gavin trailing behind her. I forgot where we were for a while there. The crowded bar faded away, and all of my focus went to Marisa. That’s a first. Usually, with this much surrounding commotion, my anxiety would be floating beneath the surface, threatening to jump out at any moment.
Elyse slides in next to Marisa, and Gavin takes the seat next to me.
“I can’t believe you missed my almost bar fight,” Elyse tells Marisa, retelling the events from earlier.
While they chat, I turn to Gavin. “You think she’s calmed down enough?”
He snorts. “Is she ever calm enough?”
I guess not.
Gavin starts telling me a story about Elyse trying to bum a cigarette off someone, but I’m only half-listening. Marisa’s eyes flick to mine while Elyse talks her ear off. It’s brief, but it feels like a silent acknowledgment that the rest of the evening will be spent apart. As it should be. Because we’re just friends, and friends don’t hang out in a secluded corner of the bar, getting lost in each other. No,friendsdefinitely don’t do that.
