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“Fuck.”
I laugh. “Yeah.”
Harlow recovers. “That doesn’t seem like something Rylan would do.”
“Coulddo,” I correct. “I only have the one brother.”
She shakes her head, looking vaguely disappointed.
“How are classes going?” It’s all I can think to ask her about, and I’m eager to stop discussing Rylan.
Harlow raises one eyebrow. “You’re asking me about school?”
“Yep.”
Most of what I’d normally talk to a girl in a bar about doesn’t work when the girl in question is my best friend’s girlfriend.
“They’re good. I’m stressed about my thesis, but…”
“What’s your thesis about?”
All I know is that Harlow is a marine biology major and loves whales. Hart was watching a documentary on humpbacks one night, and I ended up staying for most of it. It was way more interesting than I was expecting.
“I think I’ve settled on the influence diet quality has on divergent population trends in local harbor seals.”
“That’s cool,” I say, pretending I have any clue what that means.
All I really heard was seal diet. So, what they eat? Her thesis is about fish?
Harlow cracks a smile, then nods in the direction of the door. “She’s leaving.”
I spin around to look.
Sure enough, Rylan is moving toward the crowd headed in the direction of the door. There’s no sign of the guy she was with—thank fuck—or her friend from earlier. She isn’t looking this way, the tilt of her chin in the opposite direction of the bar so severe it looks purposeful.
I’m positive she’s still pissed at me. Still wants nothing to do with me.
“I’m going to head out,” I say, pretending not to notice Harlow’s knowing smile. “Tell Conor I’ll see him at home?”
“I’ll tell him,” Harlow says, before I follow Rylan.
I never got my water, but whatever. Maybe Harlow will want it.
Rylan is fast. I’m hustling to catch up, weaving around people trying to get my attention. I ignore them all, my focus on the brunette slipping out the door.
It’s raining out, steady sheets falling from the black sky.
After just a few steps, my hair is plastered to my forehead.
“Rylan!” I call.
She keeps walking, so I jog after her and grab her elbow.
Rylan spins, her hand cocked in a fist. It falls when she realizes it’s me. I’m half-surprised she doesn’t follow through on the swing.
“Easy, slugger,” I say.
“What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?” she snaps.
