Page 31 of Veiled in Brick

“I’m not,” Luke spoke into his mug.

“I didn’t get a chance to kick him out,” I announced. “I fell asleep—mmkay? So, everyone can stop looking at me like I grew a third, romantic head.”

Claire trilled, “That kiss looked awfully—”

“You can stop now!” I interjected, the admission aloud combined with the knowledge that I enjoyed his tender goodbye causing me to raise my voice. “We don’t need to talk about it.”

Claire grinned wide. “Don’t we?”

“Alright,” I snapped, “I wouldn’t still be seeing him if I didn’t like the guy. Is that what you want to hear? Are ya fuckin’ happy? I’m not to the point where I wanna canoodle him in the middle of the night, but I’m still thoroughly enjoying him inside of me. ’Kay?”

“’Kay,” she returned promptly, taking a happy sip from her cup that made me narrow my eyes.

Her natural inclination to inquire about my situation with James had me grinding my teeth…and the worst part of it all was that my qualms regarding my closeness with him were growing fainter and fainter. The time we spent together—the memories that we had shared—were frequently bringing smiles to my face. Drifting me off to a dreamland that I didn’t even realize existed until now. The unknown land offered a pleasant warmth that I knew I could sink into, but I pondered that if I were to give in if I would be lost. Floating at sea. Waiting to be found. I took another taste of my coffee and clenched my jaw, silently praying that I could remain with my feet happily on the ground; landlocked.

Chapter 6

Zoey 7:45 P.M.: I think I may owe you something.

James 7:52 P.M.: You have my curiosity.

Zoey 7:53 P.M.: An apology?

James 7:55 P.M.: And now, you have my attention.

I didn’t know how to apologize for kicking James out of my apartment a mere two days ago. I just had the lingering feeling that I should, and the thought spurred the subsequent unease of unexplored waters vast before me. I exhaled loudly at the messages on my screen and placed my phone down on the table. We sat at our usual table at Henry’s—the one that we occupied when Claire and Luke were able to join us outside of work—Liam in a chair beside me and Claire and Luke across from us. The short glasses before the both of them were drained, and they were having a quick, hushed conversation amongst themselves before Claire smiled at me and announced:

“We’re outta here.”

“It’s not even eight o’clock!” I complained. “Stay for a bit.”

Luke scrunched up his nose as he shook his head from side to side and stood. He pushed his chair in, offered his hand to Claire to stand, and she took it. She favored her right leg, glancing at him with thankful eyes, and then looked back to me.

“Nah, we’re beat.”

“Fine,” I replied with a groan. “Spoil-sports.”

“I got a few more in me,” Liam announced from my left.

My lips pulled up slightly at the offer, and I nodded at him. Claire and Luke spoke a quick goodbye as they scurried away, and my phone began to buzz across the table, dancing over the wood grain with every vibration until it clinked against my cider. I grumbled at the insinuation of the conversation before me and clicked the button on the side of my phone to silence the call.

“You’re avoiding him, now?” Liam inquired.

“Liam,” I groaned.

He held up both of his hands in defense.

“I wouldn’t have asked, but you looked all…” Liam contemplated his words for a moment before deducing, “sad. So, what gives?”

“I basically kicked him out the other day,” I stated quietly, rotating the bottom of my bottle against the tabletop between us.

Liam’s mouth pursed together. “I remember; I was there,” he replied. “And as much as I enjoy thinking about that, ya look torn up, so—again—what gives?”

“I think I was mean—or overreacted—or whatever, I dunno.”

Liam wore a smirk so crooked that it stretched the freckles across his cheeks.

“That’s kinda part of your charm, Zo’.”

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