Page 74 of Play Fake
“Thanks.” I ease her down on her feet.
“Holly and I already discussed your birthday present is going to be two for one tonight,” London announces to me. She thinks she’s whispering, but when a low rumble of oohs and whistles breaks out around the table from the guys, it’s obvious she spoke loud enough for half the room to hear.
“That’s generous,” I mumble, wondering again if Mac is here. If she heard it because I’m sure that’s just sealed my sentence where she’s concerned. I’m gonna be locked in a box of regrets she pulls out to keep herself humble.
Olivia shouts for everyone to start singing and they do. It warms my fucking heart. I love this team and this family I have here. They’re fucking good to me, and I don’t know what I’d do without them. I smile. But there’s still the nagging sensation something is missing. Thatshe’smissing.
I look around the room, searching for her, and my eyes finally snag on her. She’s in a corner of the room, beer in her hand. Her lips are mouthing along half-heartedly to the words as she stares at the cake, half her focus on the person whose arm is locked around hers, the guy whispering into her ear instead of singing. Ben.
The jealousy floods the pit of my stomach before I can stop it. Even in my drunken haze, I know I have no right to feel it. She’s not mine, and London just declared I was having a threesome tonight. If she wants to fuck Ben, I can’t stop it. The singing comes to a grand finale with hoots and hollers and the clanging of bottles.
“Make a wish,” Olivia points to the candles.
I don’t have to think about what it is, and I make it.
After the cakeand a few more birthday shots, I excuse myself to go upstairs. I need to splash water on my face and make a decision about the rest of the night. Whether I sober the fuck up or drown my sorrows in more shots and women who actually want to fuck me. I know the second option is a terrible one. It’ll be me with a belly full of regret in the morning. Fucking Holly and London while pretending they’re someone else is about as low as I could go. But the idea of lying in bed alone tonight, sober and thinking about Mac with someone else, makes my chest ache. I rub my sternum as I go to open the door to the upstairs bathroom. Just as it opens for me.
“Oh!” She jumps back and looks up at me, a little smile appearing before it fades as quickly as it came.
“Mac Truck.” I say her nickname without thinking, smiling when I remember the way she was straddling my lap when I explained why I use it.
“Hey.” A false little smile reappears on her lips. “Hey, I’m getting ready to leave, but I was going to try to find you to say happy birthday. And here you are. So happy birthday, Waylon.”
Getting ready to leave with him, probably. Back to her house or his. She’d probably never let me back to her place, even if she wanted to fuck me. Wouldn’t want me fucking up her perfect sheets. But him? She’d do it in a heartbeat. I’ve seen her try before. She’d probably advertise it afterwards in neon lights. I wonder if Wren and Olivia even know we hooked up.
“Do Wren and Olivia know?” I say before the circuit that tells my mouth to shut the fuck up can click in to stop me.
“What?” Her brow furrows.
“About me?”
She blinks and looks to the side, staring hard at the door frame like it’s suddenly very interesting.
“What? Why?”
“Did you tell them we hooked up?” I’m already in this, so might as well get the answer. I’m sure she hasn’t.
“Yes. I didn’t know it was a secret,” she answers defensively, and I can tell I struck a nerve.
Yes? My heart rate picks up by an extra beat.
“It’s not. But you’re being so fucking weird.” I glare at the little furrow on her brow. Mad that she’s mad.
“Weird how? I’ve barely even talked to you, Waylon.”
“Exactly.”
We stare at each other for a minute. Her irritation flowing off her in waves. It’s like she wants to say something. Let loose, but she’s holding it in tight. Her eyes search, and I can tell she’s looking for a way to get past me since I’m blocking the whole doorway.
“Let me see what’s in the bag in your purse.”
She laughs. “You can’t be serious.”
“If it’s just something you picked up, why can’t I see it?”
“I don’t know, maybe because of a little thing called privacy, Waylon? I know you’re not big on it since you’re downstairs making sure everyone knows you’re having an orgy tonight, but some of us still appreciate it.”
A grin spreads across my face before I can stop it. I lean my head down to bring us to eye level.
