Page 22 of The Other Room

Everyone else has forgiven him, Jo. He’s not dad. He didn’t betray you.

We watched the show for the better part of an hour, our quiet laughter the only conversation between us while we shifted over our uncomfortable seating arrangements.

I shifted again, grimacing as the backache I’d earned from a long day at work only amplified from my perched position.

“Are you okay?” Matt asked, and my gaze slid sideways to meet his.

When our eyes met, I quickly shifted mine back to the TV. “I’m fine. Just a little sore.”

A groan escaped his lips. “Are you as uncomfortable as me? This couch freaking sucks.”

Glancing back over, I saw his smile growing, and it softened me a little more. “Yeah. It super sucks. I’ve had it since I was nineteen and it’s long past its prime.”

Standing up, he stretched, and I couldn’t help but take notice of the abs that peeked out from beneath his t-shirt.

Just friends. No. Not even that. Not anymore.

It wasn’t the first time in my life his impressive physique had me reminding myself of our platonic relationship. And this time we weren’t even platonic. Now we weren’t really even friends, more like frenemies.

“So, at the risk of pushing it.” He dropped his arms and turned to me, the definition of his abs disappearing again. “Do you want to head up to The Garage and grab a drink? There’s a band playing tonight, and it’s really nice out.”

Biting my lip, I let Jenna’s accusations bounce around in my head.

Just forgive him, Jo.

He worked his jaw back and forth as he waited. “Unless you don’t want to. We can just sit here on this busted ass couch in pain all night.”

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes for a beat, then opened them and nodded. “Sure. Why the hell not?”

The spark that had always lived in his eyes flickered back on. “Really? You’ll come out with me?”

Shrugging, I stood up, grimacing from the pain now searing through my ass. “I could use a drink and you’re right... we need a new couch.”

“Drinks are on me.”

“Damn straight they are.” I looked up, and we exchanged a brief smile.

Forgive him, Jo.

Baby steps. Though I wasn’t ready to forget everything that went down, I was making baby steps. Teeny, tiny baby steps. And right now, those steps were taking us out for drinks.

CHAPTER SIX

MATT

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Jo followed me through the crowd that had gathered outside at Husby’s Garage Bar. I tried not to overwhelm her with my excitement that she’d agreed to have a drink with me. It had taken all my willpower not to sweep her into my arms and spin her around when she’d said yes.

Take it slow.

The folk music floated up through the open-air bar, and the small crowd gathered in front of the three-piece band swayed to the sounds. The Garage Bar was just that... a garage that had been turned into a bar. Situated halfway down the steep hill heading into downtown Sister Bay, Husby’s was the busiest bar around, and what had started as a simple idea to use the empty garage to expand the space, making room for visitors to sit outside and enjoy the fresh Door County air, had taken on a life of its own. Now the garage had been transformed into a charming wrap around bar, ample tables dotting the outdoor space and giving guests plenty of places to sit. They had also constructed a small stage for the bands who played here a few nights a week. The Garage was now one of the most happening spots in Sister Bay on any given summer night.

I saw two bar stools open, and I bee-lined toward them so I could get them before the other couple I saw heading their way.

“Quick. Sit.” I yanked out the stool and nearly pushed Jo into it. When I looked over my shoulder at our competition, they met me with two mirrored glares.

Not this time, folks. I was a man on a mission and that mission involved having a nice evening with Jo. Prime seating at the bar was a good start.