Page 54 of The Cruelest Kind of Hate
I snap my lips shut several moments too late as they both stare at me, as still as obelisks.
With a rough-sounding throat clear, I drown myself in a generous pull of beer, downing the rest of it to avoid having to look them in the eyes. I can’t believe I just commented on the future state of this woman’s genitalia.
Where’s Gage? Why did he leave me alone? I’m blaming this on him. I blame everything on him.
When I resurface, praying that the buzz mellows me as soon as possible, the pregnant girl explodes into goose-like honks of laughter, her shoulders shaking endlessly. “Knowing my luck, the baby probably will be a mammoth,” she chuckles.
And then she turns to the panicked man beside her and deadpans, “And it’s allyourfault.”
He grimaces. “I’m sorry for impregnating you with my monster spawn.”
“Thank you.” She beams, giving him back her drink.
I definitely don’t want to get pregnant any time soon, but it makes me fantasize about what my life might be like in ten or twenty years—who I’ll settle down with, where I’ll be, what I’ll be doing, how Teague will be off in college and on his own, how my mother might finally be at peace. I’ve never allowed myselfto look into the future. I’ve always lived in the present, with the occasional steps back into the past. I know these people are just strangers, but seeing the way they act around each other…it reminds me that I’ll still have a purpose even when the people currently in my life don’t need me anymore.
I’ll have a purpose to live formyselfrather than for others.
And when I think about living for myself and what my heart wants, I think about?—
Gage suddenly bowls into my side, the amber liquid in his cup sloshing over the rim just a little from the impact, an impish grin lifting the corners of his beer-slicked lips. “Cali, you found Faye and Kit!”
His eyes are blacked out and glassy, there’s a canopy of blush on his lean cheekbones, and he lolls his head onto my shoulder.
“Hi,” I greet quietly, waving.
“Wait a second. Cali. As in Gage’s Cali?” Kit asks, and the implication of Gage and I being together has my heart conducting a discordant beat.
“She’s…we’re not…together,” Gage hiccups.
I gently pry the cup from his fingers, using our close proximity to whisper while maintaining a polite smile, “How much have you had to drink?”
I have no idea how much time has passed, but I guess it was more than I thought.
He twines his finger around a strand of my hair. “Not that much. A drink or two. A lot of shots, though,” he answers groggily, the rumbling vibrations of his voice nurturing the ache between my legs.
“But I’m kind of buzzed. I think.”
Kit chortles, which means that our conversation wasn’t anywhere near quiet. “You have to watch out for him. He’s a lightweight.”
Oh, great.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” I jab my elbow hard into Gage’s side, causing him to bounce straight back up.
Gage sticks his finger in the air and wiggles it. “For your information,Kit, I’m not a lightweight. I just get drunk very easily.”
“That’s the definition of a lightweight,” Kit says.
“You’re just jealous because I can outdrink you,” Gage slurs.
“Outdrink me, my ass. The last time we had a chugging contest I beat you by a full minute and you yacked in the bushes. Or do we need to have a redo to jog your memory?”
“Faye, tell your boyfriend he’s a dick.”
“Cali, tell your non-boyfriend he’s a bitch.”
“O-kay.” Faye claps her hands together, defusing the testosterone bomb about to consume everyone in a ten-foot radius. “I think the rest of the team is getting a drinking game ready in the living room. We’ll meet you guys over there, yeah?”
I nod as I watch her shove Kit in the general direction of the living room, and Kit gives Gage the universalI’m watching yousign, forming a V with his fingers and pointing at his own eyes before whipping them around.
