Andrzej laughs once, short and sharp. “Nate, I’d bet a hundred bucks on you having some big hairy balls. Why are you being such a coward?”
I drag a slow breath in through my nose, straighten on the barstool, and force my shoulders back like I can shake thechaos out of my head. Scrubbing a hand over my jaw, I turn to Tessa.
“Hey, can you scoot over a bit?”
Tessa huffs and wrinkles her nose, sliding her stool an inch. “Seriously?” She glances at the empty space, as if its existence is offensive. “We haven’t hung out in ages and now you ask me to scoot?” Then her mouth tilts, and she nudges my knee with hers. “Come play pool with me. We can make a wager.” Her eyes glint. “Bet something juicy.”
Andrzej doesn’t bother hiding his grin, setting his drink down with a loud clink. “What, like if he loses, he has to kiss you again? Or maybe you’re hoping if he can’t sink the balls, he’ll put something else in a different hole?” He wipes the condensation off his glass, eviscerating Tessa, no sweat off his back.
Her expression falters, a quick flash of anger before she rolls her eyes and her hand lands on my shoulder. “Nate, please,” she says, voice sugarcoated but tight underneath. “We haven’t had lunch in forever. I didn’t think you were one to abandon the people close to you.”
The words hit hard because she’s right—I’m not one to abandon people, but I never left her behind. She put me in a position where I was stuck between Tessa’s feelings and everything I want for my girlfriend and myself.
“Tess, I told you. I’m not feeling like you respected me or our friendship at all,” I say, proud I’m managing to be so diplomatic.
Andrzej exhales through his nose, the sound halfway between a laugh and a growl. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Barbie girl.” He shifts his stool back, the legs scraping across the tile. “He doesn’t want to hang out.” Leaning forward, he air quotes the last two words, resting his elbows on the table, blue eyes cutting into her. “Get a grip and leave the man alone.”
Elijah covers his chuckle by taking a sip. Tessa’s smile wobbles, then I feel guilty.
I stand, tilting my head toward the hallway between the indoor area and the patio. “Let’s chat a minute, yeah?”
Hands in pockets, I step away, leaving Andrzej hissing and Elijah shaking his head.
The hallway’s narrow, the light overhead flickering every few seconds. I stop halfway through and lean against the wall to face her, meaning to say something firm but not unkind
“Why does Andrzej hate me so fucking much, Nate? He’s never liked me.” She keeps going, talking and waving her arms a mile a minute.
I stop listening when the door beside us clicks open.
CHAPTER 17
The Surrender
Robyn
We’ve pushedtwo of the blue picnic tables on the gravel patio close enough to the firepit that we can comfortably sit outdoors in the unusually chilly air. The soundtrack of chatter around us and the fire flickering gold against the blue-and-white striped umbrellas give the whole setup an edge of casualness. The smell of burning wood dominates the atmosphere, and the laughter from the tables closest to the heaters drifts our way.
Daniel slides into the space beside me, and his shoulder brushes mine. He sets a cold pint glass in front of me and tips his chin toward it. “It’s easier to get the same thing,” he says, a lazy grin forming. “You can pick the next round when it’s your turn to get it.”
I glance at the drink, then at him, arching a brow. He’s built like someone who once played contact sports and never stopped training. His green eyes glint under the bar’s dim lighting, hair tousled with intentionality.
I force a small smile and lift the glass, but I tighten my grip on it. “Generous of you,” I murmur.
The beer’s sour and heavy with over-fermented hops, but I take a sip anyway. I don’t need a man to buy my drinks and definitely not one who decides for me. Before I can school him on his horrible taste, a voice cuts through the noise.
“Robyn!”
Marisol’s across the table, half standing, one manicured hand lifted in a wave. Her brown eyes are wide and searching, curls pinned half up but still spilling over her shoulders in dark styled ringlets.
“Where’s Julian?” she calls, louder than necessary.
They’re a match made in heaven.I swivel toward her. “Why do you think I know?”
She scoffs. “Don’t play coy. You two are attached at the hip.”
“He said he might stay home,” I state, taking another swallow of the bitter beer. Daniel hums after his own sip.
“See? You did know. Honestly, no wonder your boyfriend made out with that girl. You and Julian have zero boundaries.”
