Page 20 of Let It Be Me

“Stop, okay? Just relax. You’re making it more embarrassing,” she says in a hushed voice before she turns back to Brad.

I watch as she and a couple of other people help get Brad steady on his feet, everyone relaxing into smiles and laughter over the whole scene. Except for me.

A hand claps me on the back. “She’s fine, dude,” Reeve says, following my gaze as I stand staring at her.

“Did you see what he just did?”

“Yeah, dude can’t hold his liquor.”

“He knocked her down the stairs.”

“He’s not slick, is he?” He shrugs. “But it was an accident.”

“I know that,” I snap. “But he shouldn’t be shit-faced when he’s with her.”

Reeve gives me aCome on, mansmile. “I think you need a drink.”

“Yeah, I get it,” I grumble. “I’m too protective.”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

“What does that mean?” I snap.

Reeve’s calm, knowing smile pisses me off. “I don’t blame you if you’re jealous.”

“She’s my friend,” I say defensively. Yeah, I know I look jealous, and maybe I am, but that’s not all it is. Decent guy or not, I don’t like Brad for Ruby. And I’m annoyed seeing her attach herself to yet another guy who can’t take care of her. I might not have my shit together, but I would never have let that happen to a girl I’m with.

I want to leave so I don’t have to witness all the other ways he’s going to fail her, but this is my last chance to hang with Cam, so I stick around and try to enjoy myself. Though I’m careful not to look her way.

A little while later, she finds me in the yard, leaning against the deck railing and staring at the campfire. She holds out a paper plate half filled with pita chips and her trio of dips.

“I snagged you the last of it.”

I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” She scoops up a generous dollop of whipped feta and pops it into her mouth.

I ignore her trying to be cute and instead watch the fire.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” I grumble.

“Yeah, right. You haven’t been this grouchy since the supermarket ran out of boneless, skinless chicken breasts.”

I give her a hard look. “That never happened.”

“It’s called a joke. Which you would have gotten if you weren’t determined to be in a bad mood. What’s going on?”

“I said nothing.”

She gives me a sympathetic look I don’t care for. “You’re getting nervous about surgery?”

“That’s not it.” I can’t wait for surgery. If I had my way, I’d be driving to the hospital right now to get started.

“Well, obviously it’s something.” She waits for a response, but I give her nothing. “Should I just stop asking?”

“Please.” The fire pops, sending out a little shower of embers, and I throw out an arm in front of her body.

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