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Like he set a challenge, Joana goes in for a kiss, and I can’t. I’ve never felt what I’m feeling—like my entire body is being shredded in half and like I could cry. As her lips edge closer, I make a smooth move to the left and whisper in her ear, “I’m not looking to kill him, Jo.”
I’m not looking to kill myself with heartache either. Been trying my best to outrun that grim reaper.
“That’s the whole goal,” she whispers back in my ear. “Where’s the fight in you?”
It’s somewhere in Luna’s hands. Her lap. My fight is gonna be with her, I know that, and I’m struggling to change that.
“Take it easy on him,” I just tell Jo under my breath. “He’s old. He’s got high cholesterol and whatnot.”
“He’s thirty-three, not a hundred.” And then she relents off my solemn gaze. “Fine,” she whispers between her teeth while trying to smile at everyone. “You don’t have to grab my ass, but you could at least act like you’ve fucked me before.” Her eyes plead with me. “I am fuckable, Donnelly.”
I’ve never looked at Joana like that.
“Donnelly,” Oscar calls over. “Explain yourself, bro.”
I pull slightly away from Joana, not enough to break contact. Her fingers are still tucked in my waistband.
“I’m his date, obviously,” Joana replies first.
“Thank you, Jo, but I asked him.”
I spread out my hands. “She’s my date.” I’m hoping I sound as calm as I want to feel. This isn’t landing right, though. Not without a good-humored grin, but I can’t even force one. “You asked me to bring someone, and I brought Jo.”
Oscar is stuck shaking his head.
I’d normally make a quip about it, but the joke races beyond my frozen state.
Eliot has stood up, and he pulls out a chair for Joana, the one closest to Jack. Thankfully, she peels away from me to sit down, and she pats the vacant seat beside her. “Come on, Don Don.”
“Don Don,” Oscar tries to grin. “You’re fucking with me.” He points at me.
Joana is glaring at me to keep this joke intact.
“Alright, Jo Jo.” I play into the nicknames we thought of on the way here. My feet move before my brain, and I’m sitting beside Jo. It’s not a big deal.
It’s not that serious.
“What are we drinking?” Joana asks, and I pass her a menu. Her hand skates up and down my thigh.
Since we’re on SFO’s side of the table, Oscar sees the thigh-touch.
I play dumb and scan the foliage around us. “Welcome to the jungle.” I flash the rock on hand sign too loosely. Needs a tongue wag and more gusto that I’m not feeling.
“Where the lions have come to play,” Eliot grins, eyeing me and Joana like he sees through the joke.
“I eat lions for breakfast,” Joana retorts. “Tell your brother that next time you see him.”
“Which one?” Tom asks, drumming the table with his fingers.
“The aggravating one.”
Don’t look at Luna.
I shift my leg a little and Jo’s hand falls. She doesn’t notice.
Eliot twirls a fork. “We’re all aggravating given the right circumstance and perspective, but I’m going to guess Charlie.”
“Has to be Charlie,” Tom nods.
“And they say Cobalts are smart,” Joana retorts.
Oscar has his fingers to his face like he’s in a horror flick, and Farrow is near laughter at Jo’s roast. I want to make a joke again, but my tongue feels heavy.
Don’t look at Luna. All I wanna do is look at her.
Eliot bypasses her shot at him. “Ben, then.”
“Beckett,” she forces out, and my blood runs cold hearing his name.
Is this my hell or what? One of my own making.
“Beckett?” Tom and Eliot say in unison.
“Why so shocked?” Jo asks with heat.
“Uh, because it’s Beckett,” Tom gapes at her. “He’s the antithesis of aggravating.”
“He’s the calmest of us,” Eliot adds.
I know.
I remember.
I try to block Beckett out of my head too. Craning my neck backwards into the planter of ferns, I’m almost able to catch Oscar’s attention. Maybe I can quietly alert him that this is all a joke without Joana seeing and feeling betrayed by me. That way I won’t hurt her, too.
“Well, he’s an ass,” Joana states plainly, and Oscar is too roped into the drama to notice my eyes on him.
“I am both bewildered and intrigued,” Eliot leans towards Jo. “Do say more.”
She can’t. The server comes in to cut the conversation but not the tension.
Explain myself. Where do I even begin? How I’ve been trying not to be hung up on Luna. How I didn’t want to be fucked and dumped at the end of tonight. How the person I really want is sitting at the other end of this table, but I can’t even bear to look her way.
It hurts too much to say any of it to anyone, and I’m tired of being in pain.
