Page 102 of Make Me Laugh

Everything he says goes in one ear and out the other. Olive keeps pretending her touches are accidental, and I want to bat her hand away like a cat.

There’s finally a lull in the conversation, giving me the opportunity to say my farewells.

The band announces their last song as I drop cash into the bartender’s tip jar.

“You weren't going to see if I needed a drink?” the last voice I want to hear asks.

I glance over to see Olive, smiling her bright, I-know-how-to-get-you-in-trouble smile.

She’s hot, and she’s funny. I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t. Olive doesn’t have to be someone’s type for them to see the work she’s put into making people believe she’s still in her thirties.

I pivot, leaning against the bar casually. “I hadn’t planned on it.” The way I eye Olive isn’t in the way I would have once done. I study her, trying to see what I might have before meeting Joey.

I can’t.

It’s impossible.

I’m hung up on Joey, and I don’t know how I’m ever supposed to recover from it.

Olive throws a gently placed hand over her heart, trying to draw my gaze to the breasts spilling out of her top.

I don’t take the bait.

Olive smirks, twirling a piece of blonde hair between her fingers. “Then what, or who had you planned on?” she asks, a devious look crawling across her face and dark eyes. “Because I know it’s not that pretty little tattooed assistant of yours.”

Pretty little tattooed assistant?

I cock my head to the side. “You mean Jo, my social media strategist with an MBA from Harvard?” This woman cannot actually be serious right now…

She chuckles softly, dropping the hair she’d been twirling to reach out and stroke the length of my forearm. “Smart and pretty? Lucky her.” Olive doesn’t say it like she’s complimenting Joey, her tone too snarky to be sincere. “At the end of your set I ran into her. After realizing who was on your shirt, I had to know what I was getting myself into.” She looks up from her hand after I pull my arm away, her expression turning playful. “I’ve ruined one marriage already. My reputation can’t take another homewrecking scandal.”

The bartender returns with four beers, trying to pretend she hadn’t overheard the last part of our conversation. She scuffles away before I can thank her, and Olive just keeps talking. “I’m happy to hear there’s nothing between the two of you and that your bit about MILFs isn’t false advertising.”

Her words hit me the same moment I spot Joey standing off in the distance, like this is a teen romance movie and the director told Joey to act as heartbroken as she can. How long has she been standing there?

She lifts her hand and waves.

My body reacts before I do. I put my hand on Olive’s forearm, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Olive, it looks like you got your wish.” I push the beers her way. “Enjoy.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

THE ONE WITH THE PRACTICE

Comment: Do you think Hex has been reading any hockey books lately? I’d loooove to hear her recs. I just KNOWWWW she wouldn’t let us down.

I told her West and I weren’t together. I told her it wouldn’t bother me if she wanted to shoot her shot. I told her I had no feelings for him…

Only one of those things is true.

I meant to turn away and let West do whatever it was he wanted to do without me being there to sway his decision, but when I told my feet to move, they hadn’t listened. It feels like they’re stuck in wet concrete.

Instead of leaving and catching the ride I’d told Frankie was already waiting for me, I wandered off to find West. And when I did, I thought maybe seeing him with Olive would remind me why I shouldn’t have feelings for him… All it did was cause my heart to sink, watching her trail a hand up his arm, bat her lashes playfully, twirl her hair, lean forward to give him a peek down her top.

He catches me staring like a fucking lovesick puppy.

My feet aren’t the only thing stuck in cement. My heart is too. My feelings for West aren’t going anywhere.

He abandons Olive and the drinks he’d ordered, heading towards me with long strides.