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“Neither do you. Maybe you’ve been in her bed, but you don’t know her,” my brother says.
“Watch it,” I warn.
“Cassandra is a nice person. Sure, we haven’t seen her in years, but I know how to read people. Believe me.” Warren’s expression grows weary, and he doesn’t have to remind us that he’s seen some hard times.
Liam’s expression grows from annoyed and cagey to genuinely concerned. “Patty, I’m just looking out for you. You know I want you to find what you’re looking for, I always have even if I act like an asshole most of the time. But there is a reason complicated love doesn’t work. When an obstacle so enormous stands in your way, there is nothing that will work to overcome it. It could be the love to end a world, one that lights up a galaxy, and if there is this immovable conflict in the middle of you, it’s not going to disappear just because you love her.”
The faraway look in his eyes clues me in to the fact that he’s definitely not talking about Cassandra and me. I haven’t even told my brother, much less anyone else, exactly how deep my feelings for this woman run. No, Liam is talking about whatever or whoever shut him off. What turned him into this furious person. For the first time in a long time, I see my brother through the lens of heartbreak and realize he’s been going through a devastating thing.
“Liam …” I start, but he holds up a hand, and I watch the preverbal blinds shutter over his expression.
“You know what, forget it. Your dick is always going to do what it wants.”
He’s hurting, so I’ll forgive the dig. But I make a mental note to circle back to this in a week or two. Without another word, I leave my beer at the bar and make my way over to her. She tosses those auburn waves over her shoulder as I approach, and I’m trying my hardest to mosey rather than sprint to her table.
“Hi. ” Her eyes sparkle as she traces the condensation on her glass.
Wilson sits next to her looking like the cat who got the cream because it’s definitely no secret we’re making bedroom eyes at each other. “Mr. Ashton, fancy seeing you here.”
“Wilson, nice to see you.” He’s a few years younger than us, and while we’ve never had the same group of friends, he and his mom often come into Hope Pizza for meals. “What brings you two to the bar tonight?”
“I was a watching a rehearsal for the upcoming production and offered to take Wilson out for a drink. He needs it.” Cassandra chuckles.
“These actors are going to make me lose my ever-loving mind. Can no one remember a line anymore? Hit a mark? Do I need to get up there and play all the parts?” He dramatically flourishes his hand and then takes a long sip from his red wine.
“Now that I would pay a lot of money to see.” Cassandra looks practically giddy at his misery. “Don’t worry, you still have two weeks. I once watched Niall Marge flub every single line for that outer space movie we shot. And he won a freaking Golden Globe. So ...”
Wilson stops drowning his sorrows to shoot a look at her. “To be clear, you’re talking aboutDarkness, one of the most incredible movies of all time, and comparing it to my amateur play in Bucks County, Pennsylvania?”
“Well, yeah.” Cassandra shrugs.
“I’m doomed.” Wilson buries his face in his hands.
I can’t help but laugh, and I know my brother is probably staring daggers at me, but I ask anyway.
“Come sit with us.” I nod my head at Warren, who commandeers a nearby table and pulls up the appropriate number of chairs.
“Oh, we don’t need to interrupt—” Cassandra starts, and I know she thinks I don’t want to be seen out with her.
“You’re not interrupting, and I insist.” My hand is at her elbow, and just the light touch sends zings up my fingers.
With a little shuffling, we all come to sit around the table, holding our drinks and attempting to start some awkward small talk.
“Warren, you always say you’re going to come for an audition and you never do,” Wilson starts, breaking the tension.
Warren chuckles. “I did one play in high school, Wilson. That does not make me an actor.”
Wilson turns to Cassandra like they’re the evaluation squad on acting. Which I guess they are. “He played Fiyero inWickedmy freshman year in drama club and was outstanding. He’s got a real knack, I mean, look at that charm.”
Our friend puts on a real show of it, smiling and flexing for the table.
“You should.” Cassandra touches his arm, and envy burns green and bright within me.
These two are nothing but cordial acquaintances, and here I am, steaming like a jealous kettle.
“Oh, Liam, by the way, I meant to tell you or Patrick, but I made a linguini with your vodka sauce I got at the supermarket, and holy cow. It was better than La Lunar, this amazing Italian restaurant in LA. And in a jar, no less. Bravo, honestly. It was delicious.”
If there is a way to win Liam over, it’s complimenting his food. And Cassandra seems to be doing it in a genuine way, not one that seems like an act to appease the family of the guy she is seeing.
