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“Someone’s in a grumpy mood,” Hannah teased, flicking her ponytail. “Two hoppiest of hoppy beers coming up.” She turned on her heel and headed toward the bar.
“So, you want to tell your oldest and dearest friend why you’ve been in a crappy mood all day?” Adam asked.
I debated. I hemmed and I hawed. Part of me wanted to tell him about Tiffany and her machinations; our fucked up history and the games she was still playing. But then I thought about what his face would look like once he knew about me and I quickly swallowed the truth. “Nothing. Just have a lot on my plate. I’ll get over it.”
Adam’s phone dinged and he glanced at it. “Jeremy just got here. Says he’ll be right in. He ran into Skylar in the parking lot. She’s joining us.” He looked up at me, his brow furrowed. “I didn’t know Sky would be here tonight. Hope that’s okay.”
I felt my heart kick into overdrive. My mouth suddenly dry.
“Why wouldn’t it be okay? Skylar and I are fine.” I asked blandly. I was a good actor. The best actor. I should get a damn Oscar.
Adam gave me a strange look. “I just meant that I didn’t know if you were up to it being a group thing. Why would I think there was something wrong between you and Skylar?”
Well, shit. I was a pretty even-keeled guy. I could handle just about anything. Except being around the woman I had been dangerously close to falling for only months before. To Adam and the rest of our Southport friends, we had simply been two people spending time together. On the outside, it didn’t look like much more than a platonic acquaintance. They had no idea how much I had wanted more than that. How I berated myself daily for screwing things up with her. How I fantasized…
I was saved from having to respond by Hannah, who plonked our beers down on the table. “Hope they’re hoppy enough for you, Rob.” She gave my arm a long, exaggerated squeeze.
Adam covered his smirk with a cough. Once Hannah left he shook his head. “I swear, she’s like a cat in heat.”
I watched Lena’s friend work her magic around the room. She liked to keep people off-kilter. I had had enough topsy-turvy women in my life, I wasn’t interested in pursuing another. I wanted a partner who was both passionate and reasonable. I didn’t want a roller coaster; I wanted a tandem bicycle. I saw what Adam had with his wife Meg and Jeremy had with Lena and I knew it was possible to have something special. I was surrounded by relationships that were functional and healthy. So why was it so damn difficult for me to hold onto something I knew in my heart would have been everything I had been looking for?
Adam took a drink of his beer. “Meg and I were wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner this weekend. We were just talking the other day about how long it’s been since you’ve been to the house. I think it was Tyler’s birthday last summer.”
I felt tense. The desire to fidget in discomfort was overwhelming, but I kept still. I had learned over the years to keep emotions close to the vest. I wasn’t an emoter. It was part of the reason I was a fantastic lawyer. And a not-so-bad poker player either.
“Did my invite get lost in the mail then?” a voice asked, dripping with sarcasm.
“They learned their lesson the last time when you and Lena used the nursery to conceive your next child,” I joked, making room for Jeremy in the booth. Jeremy waved down Hannah to put in his drink order.
After he received his beer he turned his attention to us. “So, are you two making plans without me? Do I need to feel left out?” He pretended to pout which only caused Adam to roll his eyes.
“If you can promise not to spill red wine on the carpet again, Meg may consider it,” Adam countered.
I was barely paying attention to my friends’ banter. I was too busy watching the woman who had followed Jeremy inside. Skylar Murphy hadn’t joined us, instead beelining for the bar to order a drink. She was smiling. God, she was beautiful when she smiled. She pulled her long, black hair to the side, draping it over her shoulder. She laughed at something Brad said, smacking her hand down on the countertop. Her laugh was rich and carried across the room.
My groin tightened in response and I had to discreetly adjust myself.
Brad handed her an open beer—no fruity cocktail for her—and she turned to head to our table. And then catching sight of me, she stopped. She frowned. She started chewing on her bottom lip in a gesture I knew meant she was contemplating something. Probably whether to get the hell out of there. I quickly looked away so she didn’t see me ogling her.
