Page 48 of Doomsday Love


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“No, Kylie. Hell no. You wanted to come. I’m here for you.”

She blinked with pleading eyes. She wanted to accommodate me, but I also wanted to please her. It was always this way with us. We cared about each other too much. “How about you go back in and watch the next fight? I can wait out here until it’s over.”

“And leave you out here?!” She stood straight, gluing a hand to her hip. “Hell, no. It’s dangerous out here.” She looked around, rubbing her arm uncomfortably.

I looked towards the exit, at Manny who was keeping an eye on his cousin and me. I nodded my head in his direction. “Manny can keep an eye on me.”

She glanced back at him before meeting my eyes. “No way, Jen. Let’s just go. I can run into Oscar another time, I swear—”

“No, Kylie. Please. Go! Have fun! I don’t want to ruin your night.”

“Silly,” she said, sighing. “You could never ruin my night.” Our bickering was ridiculous. We were like nice old ladies that couldn’t make up their mind. She placed her hands on my shoulders. “Let’s just get out of here. Maybe go catch some burgers at the midnight diner.”

God, I felt so bad. I hated doing this to her. I hated spoiling her fun with my weirdness. Why couldn’t I have grown up around rough cousins? Why did I have to be so repulsed by the sight of blood? The sound of breaking bones. I shivered at the thought.

“You ladies good out here?” Manny called. He had a foot in the door, but his body was outside. He narrowed his eyes at me before looking at Kylie.

“Yeah!” Kylie called, looking his way. “We’re good. We’re gonna get outta here.” She twisted around, sliding an arm across my shoulders and starting for the parking lot behind the building. “Thanks for everything, Manny!”

“Anytime,” he called. “Be safe!”

We were in the car in no time.

I slouched in the driver’s seat, pressing my fingers to my temples as Kylie buckled in. “Buckley’s Burger Joint. Now!” Kylie demanded playfully, giving me a funny scowl.

“Kylie, just tell me the truth,” I said as I started the car and buckled myself in. “Did I ruin this night for you? I know how badly you wanted to see Oscar.”

“Ehh.” She lifted her shoulders carelessly. “There’s a reason I’m telling you to hit Buckley’s. I heard that’s where all the fighters at the Pit go after their fights. Maybe we can stick around until they show?” She had that sparkle in her eye again, a mischievous look on her face.

I laughed. “Seriously? Who told you that?”

“Manny. Right before the first fight.”

“Well, then,” I sighed. “To Buckley’s we go.”

“It’s perfect that we’re leaving now, actually; then it’ll look like we sorta just bumped into each other and that it’s destiny, ya know?” She laughed at that.

“You are absurd,” I laughed, putting the car in drive and hitting the road.

Chapter 11

Jenny

After downing my chocolate milkshake and crispy fries, I felt much better, given how I’d thrown my guts up back at the Dawg Pit.

“There,” Kylie said, smiling at me across the table. “You don’t look like Snow White anymore. Told you, Buckley’s is always the answer.”

“Yeah,” I laughed. I’d only been to Buckley’s once. It was a long time ago. Mitchell took me.

“I’m gonna go run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” Kylie hopped out of her chair, sauntering to the bathroom that was just around the corner from the kitchen.

A few of the men sitting at the bar watched her walk by, some shaking their heads like they couldn’t believe a girl could be so beautiful and gifted in all the right places.

I sighed, pressing my back against the chair, fiddling with the straw of my shake. A car door slammed in the distance and I turned, peering out the window. Familiar headlights flashed off and then five boys hopped out of the hatch, two climbing out the passenger door and one from the driver’s side.

Packed like clowns in a Beetle.

I watched the entire time, but the driver was the one who made my heart snag.

He’d changed clothes. A fitted white T-shirt and a pair of baggy gray sweatpants that did nothing to hide his bulging package. His hair wasn’t spiky tonight. It was a sweated out mess, a few strands hanging over his forehead.

All of the boys came rushing for Buckley’s entrance, but Drake took his time. His head lifted up as he tied the drawstring of his sweats, and when he spotted me sitting at the table by one of Buckley’s three windows, he froze, his face drawing a blank.

His jaw ticked, telling me everything he felt.

Annoyance.

Frustration.

It was clear he was tired of seeing me—randomly “running” into me.

The bell above the door chimed and the fighters of the Dawg Pit came plowing in, taking the two booths by the wall opposite of me.

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