Page 7 of The Other Room

“Can we get the bar dice cup?” Tony asked. “I may not be drinking much tonight, but I can still kick their asses in bar dice.”

“You got it,” Hanson answered, leaning down and returning with the black plastic cup filled with five dice. It was a traditional Wisconsin drinking game I’d mastered during all my years of bartending. The loser of each game bought the winners a round of shots, and it was often the catalyst to a night spent out drinking far more than you’d intended.

“So, you’ve been good?” Matt asked, still trying his best to strike up a conversation after I’d been ignoring each attempt for the better part of a year.

“Yep. Fine.” I picked up the bar dice cup, giving it a shake and slamming it down with enough force to shake the whole bar.

“Jesus, Jo. Whose face were you picturing pummeling with that roll?” Hanson asked.

My glare slid over to Matt, who seemed to be obsessed with shredding his cocktail napkin.

“Forty-six in one.” I pushed the dice cup over to Tony.

“Damn. That’s hard to beat.” He blew out a puff of air and shook the cup, slamming it down with far less rage than me.

“Twenty-four. Shit.”

I didn’t try to hide my victorious smile while he slid the cup over to Aaron.

Aaron rolled a thirty-two, leaving me sitting in the winning seat. With a grumble, he slid the cup and dice back down the bar, and I pushed it in front of Matt.

“Thanks,” he said, but I just pursed my lips and turned away.

When he finished his roll with a forty-four, I grinned and leaned back in my chair.

“Jo’s out,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “Of course, Jo’s out. She always wins.”

“And don’t you forget it.” I waggled my brows.

While the three of them continued shaking the dice to narrow down the loser, I sipped on my margarita, helping myself to a refill from the pitcher sitting in front of us. The last round ended in a tie between Matt and Aaron, and I cheered on Aaron while he tossed his last roll.

“Yes! You lose!” Aaron jutted a victorious finger at Matt.

“Yep. Matt’s a loser. Surprise, surprise.” I smiled, and the unveiled insult caused Matt to widen his eyes and blink back at me.

“Damn,” he blew out a breath. “Looks like I’m still in the doghouse. Long memory, huh? Do I at least get a fancy collar or a new dog bed? Blue is still my favorite color if you want my collar and bed to match.”

He grinned, leaning over and bumping me with his shoulder. Another attempt to disarm me with his charm and sense of humor. And when nostalgia whispered to give the guy a break, I willed it to stand down. Another attempt failed.

Ignoring him, I slid my finger around the rim of my glass and licked a little salt off my finger.

“Jo, seriously. Everyone else has forgiven Matt for the Nikki situation. Now it’s your turn,” Aaron said, having taken notice of my icy attitude to my former best friend.

“Good for all of you. I’m not the forgiving type.” Crossing my arms, I turned in my seat, leveling Matt with a glare. How dare he think he can just waltz right in here and try to charm me into giving up my carefully crafted ire? Letting him off the hook made me look weak and sappy when I was neither of those things. Matt could go pick one of the docks and take a flying leap into the lake.

“Jo, I’m sorry. Seriously. It was a fucked-up thing to do, but Jake forgave me. Why can’t you do the same?”

Why couldn’t I do the same? It wasn’t like he’d kissed my fiancé. And it was just a kiss. One kiss. I should put this behind me like everyone else, but the betrayal to Jake cut too deep. The three of us had been best friends our entire lives, the Three Amigos as our parents used to call us. We’d played in the sandbox together as kids, learned how to drive together, had our first drinks together, and had maintained that close friendship into adulthood. That was until Matt went and shoved his tongue in Nikki’s mouth last year, breaking up the Three Amigos and destroying a lifetime of loyalty. Even though Matt had won back Jake’s forgiveness, and Jake was now happy with his new fiancé, Cassie, I didn’t think he would ever win back mine.

Was I mad at Matt? Yeah. But I was even more mad at myself. Because when push came to shove, I’d spent years thinking my best friend was someone he wasn’t. I guess I’d put Matt up on a pedestal and when he’d tumbled off it and hit the ground, he’d lost my respect. And that stung. It burned so deep and hard it had become a constant companion – a dull ache in my heart that wouldn’t ease.

It was a best friend’s duty to hate the traitor who wronged them until the end of time. That was best friend code 101. Hell, I still hated Lucy Atlee for that time she stole Matt’s favorite lunch box and tossed it in the lake after he didn’t give her a valentine that year. He’d been beside himself watching his favorite Transformer sink out of sight. Knowing he could never hit a girl, I’d taken one for the team and punched her in the nose and got grounded for a week. It was a long week with no TV or video games, but it was worth it to defend him.

Despite that incident happening over twenty years ago, I still snarled when I thought of how upset she’d made my friend. My grudges over people who hurt my best friends were for life. This time though, it all felt awkward at best and intolerable at worst. One best friend of mine had wronged the other, leaving me smack dab in the middle. But my mom raised me with morals. Values. So it wasn’t even a question where my loyalty slid when Matt crossed the line.

Matt had been the betrayer. The harmer to my friend. The bomb that blew up our entire lifetime as a trio of best friends.

It was me who’d taken care of Jake during the aftermath of losing his fiancé and his honorary brother in one fell swoop. Me who’d helped him crawl out of the hole Matt’s selfish actions had tossed him in. After seeing the wreckage Matt left in his wake, I didn’t think I could ever forgive him... or want to for that matter. To me, loyalty and honesty were the core of friendship, and if he could betray Jake, then I knew I would never truly trust him again. Matt’s true colors had shown through in all their vibrant glory, and they weren’t the kind of colors I wanted in my life.