Page 62 of The Sidekick

I clam up as he reads over my shoulder.

“Back to work, Diana,” Satan says lightly, and she jumps as she realizes she’s been caught by the boss. She hurries away to take drink orders, and he steps into her place, glancing at the now-dark screen of my phone.

“Shade, huh? That didn’t read like a sext,” Max heckles and leans further into me, enveloping me in his warmth.

My heart does a painful twist as I face off with my nemesis. I wish there was a medication that could eradicate old feelings. I would buy that, no matter the cost. Anything to not have this ragey pain settling in my chest as I fight to keep my face blank. I’ve watched Shade do it for the last couple of days, and I’m hoping mine is just as effective in shutting people down. Or I could work on imitating Pat’s resting bee sting face. I feel like that’s an advanced look.

“Tera, I’m glad to see you,” Satan interrupts my thoughts with a kind and gentle tone. I’m not falling for that again. I stay silent and nod stiffly like a weirdo. The feeling isn’t mutual.

His eyes flick to Max behind me as a look of concern passes over his face and returns to me.

“You didn’t feel comfortable speaking to me in the office?”

The scene of the crime? No, thanks. Unless it’s had a facelift, I don’t ever want to go back there. Maybe not even if it is all rearranged and freshly painted. I’d rather drag that couch outside and set it on fire. It’s cursed.

When I don’t respond, his brow furrows and his eyes seek out Max again. He’s close enough to my back that I feel his shrug.

“What would you like to drink? On the house,” he steps back as if he’s going to get me something.

“I’m not staying,” my tone comes out flat, and I internally do a fist pump. I just have to do this for what, five more minutes? And then I can escape and curl into a ball of misery.

“You’re going to dinner with him?” Max sounds upset about this, and I’m confused. He’s obviously gotten the wrong impression of my frienemy interaction with Shade. I don’t know if it’s my place to reassure him that we aren’t dating or what.

I don’t see a relationship with Max going anywhere since he’s with Satan. And that’s what I would like to have. A relationship, not a random hookup whenever he’s given permission. They have other waitresses standing in line for that job.

I end up nodding and glancing over my shoulder at his scowling face. It’s none of his business anyway, no matter how he feels. I need to sit down with him and explain why we can’t work. Dr. Robinson has assured me communication can clear up a lot of misunderstandings. Now, all I need is the guts to open my mouth.

I can’t with Satan hovering over me. He’s watching with a slight frown as he takes in my reactions. I’m not seeing a checkmark next to “Tell ‘Satan’ how he made me feel” any time soon.

“Where are you staying?” Satan leans onto the bar, and I instinctively lean back to keep a clear line of personal space between us. It makes me press against the back of the bar stool and Max.

“I’m not sure yet,” I glance away, missing Diana’s easy conversation already, even though I didn’t really talk. That’s normal with Diana, though. She’s oblivious to my hopeful look as she serves drinks and flirts.

“Not with anyone?” He presses with his brows lowered ominously.

That is not his business, so I lift my chin and press my lips together in defiance. If I don’t want someone to know my life, that’s my choice, and he certainly hasn’t earned the right to know about me anymore.

The struggle to keep my lips shut worries me a lot. He isn’t supposed to get to me like this anymore. I worked too hard to fail now, dang it! I’m not letting him interrogate me.

The awkward, anxiety-heightening silence lasts so long that I almost fall over in relief when Shade appears at my side.

“Ready?” He glances back and forth between Max and Satan with narrowed eyes.

“Yes,” I keep my voice flat and slide out of the new chair as if it were greased.

Shade nods and extends his arm out to gesture me forward. I try not to rush as we leave, pausing to wave back at Diana with a forced smile as she yells at me to get my butt back there and confess my sins.

“Tera,” Max’s voice is sharp as he follows me outside.

Shade stops to face him almost defensively like he thinks he’s about to get punched. Max looks mad enough to do it as he eyes him with his lip curled into a snarl.

“Your phone looks new, so let me give you my number,” he insists and holds out his hand for it.

I look down at the pay-as-you-go, debating with myself. If I don’t have his number, how can we have a little sit-down discussion? I can always delete it once that’s over.

I offer it to him, and he quickly adds himself as he frowns, sending himself a text so he’ll have mine.

Someone else exits the bar, and my eyes are drawn to Satan as he watches us with a frown. My first instinct is to run for the car, even though I don’t know where it’s parked.

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