“What?”
“Where’s Bryn?” He nods at the bench. “This is her bench.”
“I don’t see her name on it.”
His eyes don’t roll, exactly, but they do look up and sideways, clearly done with me. It’s made more evident when he starts turning away, picking his board back up.
The words blurt out of my mouth before he walks away, “She ended things.”
He stops, swinging back in my direction, eyes narrowed. “What’d you do?”
“Nothing,” I defend because he looks ready to pummel my ass. Swiping the hat off my head, I run my forearm across my forehead. The breeze from the ocean is nice, but I’m starting to sweat under the sun. “She doesn’t have room for me right now.”
Brody huffs. “Idiot.”
“Watch your mouth.” I drop my hat back on my head.
“I meant you,” he says, leaning his board up against the back of the bench, then resting the top of his thigh against it. The guy makes the seat look small. “You let her go?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “She’d made up her mind.”
“So, change it.”
My eyes narrow. “I plan on it.”
“Good.”
“Good,” I repeat.
His eyebrows raise. Mine do the same.
The smallest hint of a smile tips the edges of his mouth up.If I didn’t spend so much time reading people, I’d have missed it, because it’s gone the next moment.
This time he speaks first, and I have to work to keep the surprise off my face.
“What are you going to do?”
Blowing out a breath, I scratch a spot on my chest, shaking my head. I stare at the seat she occupied not that long ago. Until he challenged me on it, I hadn’t fully resolved that I’d do anything, even if the thought was in the back of my mind the whole time she was talking to me. The sting of it all was still burning a hole through my chest, into my heart, and I wanted to respect her wishes.
But she’s my future. I’ve been certain of that since she tagged me under the glow of black lights, even if I haven’t admitted it out loud.
“I don’t know yet,” I finally say, bringing my attention back to him.
“Well, take the night to be miserable and dumped.” He grabs his board. “Meet me at 10-42.”
Cocking my head to the side, I ask, “For what?”
He’s already on the street, headed to wherever he parked his truck, but he calls over his shoulder, “To drink and be miserable.”
I hear what he doesn’t say.
Together.
To drink and be miserable together.
“I’ve got it!”
Brody’s eyes slide to me, but he says nothing. Just ready forthe newest plan I’ve come up with. That’s what drinking and being miserable has turned into. The world isn’t hazy from the beers I’ve drunk, but I’m definitely starting to feel them.
