Killian doesn’t say anything right away, but he looks like he’s formulating something, so I let the pause run its course.
After a long minute, he leans forward over the table toward me, rubbing his hands together.
“Let me ask you a couple of serious questions, okay? Can you just tolerate talking about your feelings for like, three minutes?”
I roll my eyes all the same but gesture for him to continue, sweeping my hand through the air like I’m in a hurry. And I am. I’m in a hurry to get this three minutes over.
“You’re a good time, man. Life of the party sometimes. Always with a smile, always enjoying life.”
“I don’t hear a question.”
“What happens when the good time is over?”
“Who says it has to be over?”
“I’m saying at the end of the night, after the last call, after we all go home, who is there? Who is there for you in the dark?” he asks, then takes a sip of his beer.
I shake my head. “No one, I guess. It’s just me and Tater.”
“But is that enough? I know Tater is your boy and he’s great. But life is long and someone should bear witness to yours. Both the extraordinary and the ordinary.”
Killian pauses, taking another swig from his bottle.
I don’t say anything. Instead, I turn his words over in my mind as I watch the condensation slide down the glass of the water I brought back to the table for Lyric. Which she didn’t drink. And the ice is starting to melt.
“The point is, even if you’re not ready for it, I think Lyric is. I think she’s just seen her best friend, who’s a little younger than her, get engaged, and I think she’s realizing she’s ready to let someone in for the long haul,” he says, shrugging. “That’s just my two cents. But what do I know? I’m just some dumb guy who has a thing for his forbidden neighbor.”
Maybe he’s right. Maybe she just changed. It’s entirely possible she’s starting to want things I’m not offering. If I know anything at all, it’s that Lyric deserves to have whatever she wants. Who am I to stand in the way?
That all sounds really great until I remember that I’m sitting here stewing in a cauldron of jealousy wholly unlikeanything I’ve experienced before. I wasn’t even this bent out of shape when my ex from several years ago told me she was leaving me for her best guy friend. I hated him the entire time we dated. Both of them swore to me nothing was going on. And yet, they just suddenly realized they were in love. The memory alone makes me want to roll my eyes so hard I fall right out of my chair. The emotions back then stung of jealousy but were overshadowed by validation.
“I know it’s not going to be right now, but I also hope it’s not too late when you realize you want those things, too,” Killian says. “And I really hope it’s not too late when you realize Lyric means more to you than you’re willing to admit to even yourself right now.”
He grabs his empty beer bottle and tilts it toward me before standing. His knuckles hit the tabletop and he’s off for a refill. Killian weaves through the crowd until I can’t see him anymore.
What does he know? He’s been pining through his peephole for a year. A classic case of boy sees girl, says nothing, and then it’s too late. Perhaps he should take his own advice when it comes to not waiting. Or maybe that’s why he’s giving it to me now in the first place.
I care for Lyric, obviously. She’s my friend now. We’ve gotten close since she moved in. We talk all the time, hang out, laugh a lot. I think that’s what makes the sex so fucking good. Ah, fuck. Okay, so maybe I like her a little. But she’s a likable girl. I mean, hell, last year I knew I liked her. That’s why I backed off. I didn’t want to lead her on. It was the right thing to do. Wasn’t it?
Before I can think about it, I’m standing so I can better scan the crowd and find her. I start to move toward the bar, scanning every face for hers. I look back at the dance floor to see if Steve convinced her to go for round two, but they’re not there either.
My heart starts to race a bit, because predators are real and if something were to happen to her or Darcy or any of my friends while I’m literally here with them, I would not be okay with myself. I have the privilege to walk through life less afraid, simply because I’m a man. And in all areas of life, if you’re not using the privileges you’re given to help protect others in these everyday situations, how do you live with yourself?
Some distance away toward the corner opposite of our table, I catch sight of Steve’s face. He’s laughing at something the guy standing next to him said, and even from this far away, I can tell his laugh is obnoxious. But I don’t have time to care, because the one person I’m looking for is not standing around him.
The pace of my heart quickens as I become a little more frantic. On the one hand, it’s a relief not to see her enjoying Steve’s company. On the other hand, I have no fucking idea where she is.
I head back to the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. When I round the corner, my shoulders fall with relief. There she is. Standing outside the women’s bathroom, arms folded across herself, not looking like she’s having a good time.
“Hey, darlin’.” I say it just like I’ve said it a thousand times before.
Her head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing.
“Don’t give me that syrupy southern charm, butthead,” she says.
Her head falls back against the wall as she looks away. Phew, we are icy tonight.
“What’s wrong?” I slowly step toward her, careful not to make her feel like I’m crowding her.
