Page 88 of Play Fake
“Probably dodged a bullet. That one seemed extra high maintenance.”
I shove my hands down on the mattress and sit up, my body protesting at being moved after being in the same position for too long.
“Fuck off, man. You think any chick who doesn’t fuck you and cook you breakfast after is high maintenance.”
“I like what I like, and it’s worked out fucking fantastic.”
I give him a deathly glare, but he just keeps giving me a shit-eating grin.
“Speaking of food, I’m reheating some lasagna. You want some? We can fuel up and then go out and find something low maintenance to distract you.”
My stomach growls at the idea of food.
“Yeah, I’ll eat. Give me a few and I’ll be out.”
I get up, use the bathroom, and take a quick shower before I end up in the dining room again. I grab a beer. No reason not to numb the pain sooner rather than later.
Then I sit down on the couch in front of the TV with a bowl of lasagna.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I love Easton, man, but he’s not the kind you go to for relationship advice. He has even less experience than I do on that front.
“You gonna have any advice for me other than telling me to get my dick sucked tonight?”
“Probably not.”
“Then we should probably skip it.”
“She was hot, though. In that sexy librarian sort of way. I get why you’re bent over it.”
My mind drifts to thoughts of her sitting in her little library alcove, and I feel the twist in my gut again.
“Liam said they’re having a party over there tonight. I was thinking of going. But if you want to hit up a bar or something instead, I’m down.”
It’s a surprisingly unselfish gesture from Easton. I must look like I’ve been hit by a truck for him to feel like he has to step in and help.
“Maybe.”
“Gonna need nourishment if you’re gonna fuck her out of your system though,” he nods down to my untouched bowl of food.
I grunt and take a bite, trying to decide whether to go try to win Mac back like an idiot, or just let life go back to the way it was before.
* * *
When we getto the party at Mac’s place, I look for her even though I know she won’t be there. My eyes scan the room, hoping to find her tucked in a corner somewhere sipping a beer or laughing with Olivia about something ridiculous that just happened, but she’s nowhere to be found. It doesn’t surprise me. I doubt anyone here besides Olivia and Wren are high on her list of people she wants to see.
Wren’s eyes catch me from the kitchen as I walk in the door though, flicking between me and Easton, who came with me for moral support even though he was very much Team Find-A-Bar-Hookup. She gives me a pitiful little look and I decide I might as well fall on this sword rather than avoid it all night.
“Gonna get a beer in the kitchen. Catch up with you in a bit.” I pat Easton’s shoulder, and he gives me a chin jerk in response.
“Brave of you to come here tonight,” Wren says from her perch on one of the bar stools.
“She’s not here, I assume?”
She shakes her head.
“Ally’s place.”
