Page 96 of Rules of Association

Annndnow I just felt shitty. Like some kind of buzzkill, and that was not me at all. And the sad thing was, I’m pretty sure I liked Malcolm. He seemed like fun. I likedallof them, actually. They all complimented Con in a way that made sense.

Quiet and loyal, blunt and outspoken, tried and true.

They worked well with him, and I was happy about that. Happyforhim. Yet, I just couldn’t experience that happiness to the fullest because my head was so messed up with stupid thoughts lately. Flicking my eyes to Ria, who I caught communicating something to Connor with her eyes, I swallowed. Something thick and icky that tasted a lot like envy lining my throat.

Yep.

Stupid, stupid thoughts.

* * *

At some point during their love fest, I found a good opportunity to dismiss myself from the group. I told Con I was going to use the bathroom, but really I went to the bar to grab another drink. I needed some time away. My thoughts were consuming me, even as I forced myself to be a better conversationalist and company for Connor's friends.

Being around them, in that circle of perfect warmth, just irked me. And I hated being sour during such a happy time for Con. He was probably better off without my dejected aura over there anyway.

Almost as soon as I sat down at the bar, there was a guy at my side. Sliding up next to me and leaning on his elbows as he looked down his shoulder at me.

“What are you drinking?” he asked.

“Surprise me,” I said without even sparing a glance.

He scoffed. “Who said I was buying you anything?”

I did look up this time, seeing a clean shaven, straightlaced, bro looking guy. He had blonde hair and green eyes (probably the most interesting thing about him), and he was smirking like he knew he already had me.

Gross. But still, I decided to lay on my own special kind of charm. “I did. Unless you can’t afford it—”

“Martini, two olives, please,” the guy growled at the bartender.

I swallowed a laugh.Yes, antagonization was my “special kind of charm”. You’d be surprised how much it worked for me.

Still, I made a face at his drink choice and he noticed. “What? Not a martini girl?”

I'm not. But I didn’t say that, instead I said, “Not an olive girl, but I do like free so, I guess I can’t complain, right?”

A little smile pulled up on his pink lips. “You’ll love it, trust me.”

I rolled my eyes. “And now that you’vetoldme to trust you, of course I magically do.”

Rolling a look over my face, he leaned in on his elbows as he surveyed me. “Do you even want to be here right now?”

I contemplated this. Looking at him, he was dressed nicely enough to assume he wanted to be recognized, but still casual enough to suggest he came here with friends. He was clean and not an asshole, or at least not an immediate one. Plus, he was the opposite of my reluctantly popular bear who had been overwhelming my senses lately.

This guy looked like he was itching for attention, and I was itching to distract myself from my roaming thoughts of Connor. About how he could possibly surround himself with so much good, yet destroy that good streak to befriend someone like me.

So as soon as the martini arrived in front of me, I picked it up, knocked it back and swallowed the two olives whole. Making a show of them being in my mouth one minute and disappearing the next.

My eyes flicked up to my new friend’s, his catching onto mine with a sheen of interest in them. I smiled.

“Get me another without the olives, and I might consider letting you convince me to be somewhere else,” I said, sliding the empty glass his way.

He looked me over. Trailing hungry eyes from the top of my head to the toes of my shoes before meeting my eyes again. With a smile that I could tell was surprised but he tried to play off as cool, he nodded and ordered me another.

I should have stopped at one drink. Despite his promise, Blondie (his actual name was something like Brandon or Brendan or something like that) was pretty fucking boring.

Minute after minute I had to fight myself from slipping into thoughts of Connor and his cool friends, Connor and his high education, Connor and his perfect everything. It was like my brain was on a mission to show me how misaligned this friendship was and had been from the start.

I was no longer listening to Brendan-Brandon as he yammered beside me. I just continued nodding and offering sporadic “mhmms” pretending like I was.

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