Page 63 of Worth Loving You

My muscles easing a bit, my attention shifted back to the group. “Oh.”

He snorted under his breath and muttered incoherently as he hurried back to the bar. My thumb tapping my wrist, I pulled a long breath, peering down my nose. It was odd to me, the dynamic of their friendships. The only friend I’d ever had was Milo, but that was forced on me, I didn’t really have much of a choice.

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I continued to study them, curious what it was like to meet new people and build friendships. The whole concept was foreign and quite bizarre. Maybe they weren’t shitty friends, after all, what did I have to compare it to?

The woman heaved a sigh and patted her palms to the table, scooching the chair away. Their break over, they shuffled back on stage, leaving Chastity alone. She picked up her glass, held the straw, and took a sip, skimming the room.

Her sight fell on mine and my stomach sank. Setting the drink on the table, her lips taut, she stared at me for a long, very uncomfortable moment. When she stood and began to approach, adrenaline pumped in my veins, my stomach heavy with dread.

Her freckled nose wrinkled, her hands on her hips, she leaned forward, inches from my face.

“What?” I barked, anxious with her closeness.

Clucking her teeth, she took my wrist, tugged, and led me to the table.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Urging me forward, her hands on my shoulders, she shoved me to a seat. I groaned, rubbing my forehead while she reclaimed her chair.

“Much better.”

“What is this supposed to prove, huh?”

“It proves you’re a man, Wyatt, not a fucking machine. Sit. Have a drink. Relax,” she insisted, dragging the word out.

“Relax?”

“Yes, relax. Most people know how to, but it seems as if you don’t.”

I scoffed, my thumbs tapping my thighs. “I can relax.”

She twisted her waist and made a hand gesture in the air. “Tim, beer for my friend.”

My eyelids widened, my insides lurching. “Why…did you call me that?”

Sitting properly, she bent over and pulled her straw up to sip without picking up the glass. “What?”

“Friend?”

Frozen, her lashes batted wildly, the whites showing around her irises. “Look, I know you hate me, but—”

“I don’t…I don’t hate you, Chazz.”

She made a cynical laugh and rolled her eyes, slouching a bit. “Yeah, right.”

I huffed and momentarily averted my gaze.

“I’m not this horrible person you think I am.”

My attention snapped back to hers, my stomach twisting. No, I didn’t think she was horrible. Not at all.

Tim set a bottle on the table, patted her on the head, and strolled away while she giggled and blushed. If I didn’t know, without a doubt, the man was gay, that little gesture would have seriously pissed me off.

Her elbow on the table, she fidgeted with her earring, gazing at me curiously. The band started playing and I grimaced, taking a swig of the beer.

“You don’t particularly care for them, do you?”

I snorted but didn’t answer.