Page 129 of Bring You Back

“I’m sorry about that,” I say to Marcy, letting her go.

She straightens her glasses and smiles at me. “It’s okay. I know you were pushed.”

In more ways than one, I think with another look back at Banks who peeks over at us before jerking his stare back to the guys who are not at all amused by whatever he’s telling them. “You wouldn’t want to—” I cast another look at Banks who has just swiped one of the guy’s pancakes and is shoving one into each cheek. “—go out with that thing over there, would you?” I finish to Marcy with a laugh. She’s eyeing Banks with a look I can’t make out, and having overheard my phrasing, he turns to me slowly, both cheeks sticking out like a stuffed squirrel’s.

“Really, dude?” His disapproval comes out muffled, and I look back at Marcy who is now looking at me with a face Icanmake out. The disappointment I expect to see when it comes to Banks. But before I can actually add a good word for him, she throws me for a loop.

“I was hopingyouwere about to ask me out.”

She’s bold. Honest. Not as shy as I originally thought. Too good for the squirrel who’s now pissing everybody off at that table.

And I’m flattered. She’s attractive, and I can’t deny how much I like a girl in glasses. How much I likeCamillein glasses. She’s never had to wear them, but I’ve got to see her in them. Caleb used to have glasses when we were younger before he got contacts, and Camille would swipe them right off his face and dance around—mostly when he was in a bad mood—walking herself into walls just to make him laugh.

I laugh now at the sudden memory before I realize Marcy’s eyes are now wide with embarrassment, and I backtrack. “Oh, no, I’m not laughing at you.” Another laugh escapes me, this one at myself. “Sorry.” She accepts with a nod, and I finally address her interest. “I’m … spoken for.”

Marcy nods again with a knowing look. “The pretty brunette I talked to at your table?”

I smile despite myself. Despite the tightness that settles in my chest when I think of getting with Camille while everything is still so fucked up. Despite the fact that we’re not even there yet. “Yeah.”

“Youare prettier than her,” Banks announces with a grin to Marcy as he comes up next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You’re taking too long,” he whispers to me before shoving me aside to get close to Marcy.

“I’m not interested,” Marcy says, thinking the immediate turn down will be enough, but she doesn’t know Banks, so I step in.

“I told you, man,” I say, hands on his shoulders as I return some of the shoving he gave me in an attempt to save him from making an ass of himself.

“Well, can I getsomethingfrom you?” he says to her as he struggles with me.

“Hold on,” Marcy says and we both stop, watching her walk off toward the counter.

Banks smacks my chest with a smug grin.I win.

I give him a doubtful look.Yeah, we’ll see.

Marcy returns clutching a small sauce cup filled with ketchup and hands it to Banks who drops the grin as he takes it from her. “On me.” She meets my eyes with a sly smile before hurrying off to take the orders of the full table that just walked in.

“You know what this means?”

I laugh at Banks’s wide-eyed stare still trained on the cup in his hand, and before he can present his ill-thought-out epiphany, I say, “She just knows you like ketchup.”

“Exactly!” He beams at me, still reading too much into a cup of ketchup. “And she said, ‘On me’.” I just stare, and he smacks his lips in frustration. “She wants me to put this on her! It’s ahint.”

“She wants you tostay awayfrom her,” I say, barely able to get the words out through my laughter.

He waves me off, looks up in thought. “I’ve never licked ketchup off a girl before.” He shrugs as I’m still trying to contain myself, then pushes the whole blob into his mouth before tossing the cup into the nearby trash can. “She didn’t see that.”

“Sure, man,” I say through my last bit of laughter.

“Yousuckat being a wingman,” he states once we’re back outside.

“You suck at using toilet paper,” comes a voice to our right, and we look over to see Landon approaching with one of his buddies, Nate. “It’s supposed to go up your ass, Banksy. Not on my house,” he says as he stops in front of Banks, getting in his face. “But you’re sure good at breaking a board.”

“Yeah, you, too,” Banks says, stepping closer, their noses practically touching. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

I shove my arm between them and push Banks back, stepping up to Landon myself. He holds my stare, seeing the threat there, then steps back. He knows I can kick his ass, but that doesn’t make him back down.

“Nate here says he saw you on my property,” Landon says, motioning to where Nate is standing off to the side like the spineless fuck he really is. “And you weren’t alone.”

The scowl that’s been stuck to both Banks’s and my face slips as we think of Reyna. The fact that she was seen. I now want to kick Banks’s ass for not being more careful.

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