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Xav shrugs, offering a sympathetic smile. “Then at least you’ll know.”
28
Jack
It’s been six days. Six fucking days of me obsessively checking my phone and slowly going mad because no matter how many times I look, there’s been no texts from Alastor. No calls. Nothing.
I’ve thought about reaching out countless times, but every time the thought crosses my mind, it’s followed right away with the memory of how easily he brushed me off the last time we spoke. I want to know what’s going on with him, but I’m not sure I can handle that rejection again.
I’m going to have to see him today, though. Even though we all caught up last week, Trent and Xav are insisting on having welcome home drinks this afternoon. It’s really just an excuse for a Saturday session, but since they’ve chosen a place within walking distance of my apartment, I’m not going to fight it. I’m also pretty sure they’re trying to play matchmakers, or peacemakers, or whatever. Despite the initial shock, they both seem to be firmly on board the ‘Jalastor’ ship and are refusing to hear any of my doubts.
When I get to the bar for the catch up, Alastor is already there. He’s engrossed in conversation with Xav and I pause in my step, debating whether to interrupt them. It feels like a lifetime since I’ve seen him, and I’ve missed him so fucking much; I’m not sure I want our first interaction to be some stilted greeting with our friends bearing witness to the awkwardness.
As I watch, I see him drain his beer and slip from the table. I hesitate for a moment and then decide to follow him. Privacy. Yep, that’s what we need for this. I find him in the bathroom, pissing into a toilet with the stall door wide open. There’s no one else in here so I sneak into the stall and close the door behind me.
“Kind of busy here, Macey,” he says dryly.
“I’ll wait.” I lean back against the stall door, my arms folded across my chest as I wait for him to finish up.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “You know there is such a thing as privacy.”
I let out a huff of wry laughter. “Says the exhibitionist.”
Alastor flushes the toilet and zips up before turning to face me, eyes narrowed, jaw set hard. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I want to know why you’ve been avoiding me.”
“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was taking a piss.”
“You haven’t spoken to me for a week,” I exclaim,
throwing my hands in the air.
He looks uncharacteristically uncomfortable, shifting
from foot to foot and avoiding eye contact. “Do we have to talk about this here?”
“Yes. I want to know what the hell is going on.” I narrow my eyes at him, my voice hard. “You can’t still betired,”I say with an eye roll, “so what did I do? Is it—is it because Trent and Xav found out? Are you embarrassed they know about us?”
“Of course not,” he growls, looking almost offended that I’d assume such a thing. “I was the one who wanted to tell them, remember? You were the one tying yourself in knots trying to make them think they were hallucinating.”
I just stare at him. “Is that what this is about? Because I made a split-second decision to...I don’t know...downplay things?”
His eyes flash with intensity. “So youweredownplaying things?”
“Of course I was downplaying things!”
“Why?” The way he asks the question, it’s as though the fate of the world rests on my answer.
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Yes you do,” he says with a scowl. “You just don’t want to admit it.”
I shake my head, brows furrowed in confusion. “Alas- tor, I have no fucking clue what you’re on about.”
“Just forget it,” he grumbles, making an attempt to move past me and get to the stall door.
I block his path, not willing to let him go without answers. “No. We’re fucking doing this,” I practically snarl. “I want to know what the fuck happened. Because I don’t get it. One day you’re saying you can’t get enough of me, and you want to tell people we’re together. And then the next day...nothing. Did you just finally get sick of me? Because you could have at least told me it was over instead of fucking ghosting me.”
