AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sure thing. I’ll be back to take your order soon.”
As I walked away, I heard Richie say, “Fuck, Farrow, you’re punching way above your weight.”
“Quit it, asshole, Peyton is good people.”
Good people.
But not good enough.The thought came out of nowhere. But I wasn’t thinking about Sean, I was thinking about the dark-eyed guy who refused to see me.
I rang their drinks order through and busied myself with making them. But a trickle of awareness ran through me.
“Sorry,” Sean’s voice gave me pause, and I turned slowly to find him leaning against the counter. Cindy caught my eye over his shoulder and raised a brow.
“I didn’t know you’d be here today.” He gave me another one of those dimpled smiles.
“It’s fine,” I said.
“I didn’t want you to hold it against me.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Richie is—”
“I can handle Richie, Sean.”
“How come you’re not at the game…? I figured you’d be there supporting Hughes.” Something like jealousy flashed in his eyes.
“Nothing is going on between me and Bryan, not that it’s any of your business.”
He stood up, holding his hands up. “Relax, I didn’t mean it…” I gave him a pointed look and he chuckled. “Yeah, okay. I did.”
“I’m working, Sean. I should—”
“Come out with me later?”
“Sean…”
“Just… think about it. We’re heading to that bar, The Tap. They have live music tonight and Richie knows the owner, so we won’t be carded.” His mouth quirked again. “Go on. You know you want to. Unless you were planning to party with the team.”
I wasn’t.
I’d volunteered to pull a double shift to keep myself occupied… and to avoid Bryan and the team when they got back from Harrisburg.
“I’ll think about it,” I blurted, grabbing my order pad and moving around the counter.
“What time do you get off?” Sean asked me, a sparkle in his eye.
“Eight.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he said, giving me another lingering look that once upon a time would have made my toes curl. I wasn’t that girl now though.
“Friends…” I gave him a pointed look. “Nothing more.”
“Scouts honor.” Sean held up two fingers before slipping back to his booth. I didn’t miss him high-fiving Jake.
Another roar filled the diner, people whooping and hollering. The Raiders had done it—they’d beat Limmington and secured their place in the finals next weekend. I could imagine how wild the party tonight at Bryan’s house would be, but I had no desire to go. To be around all those people, pretending everything was fine.
That I was fine.
