Page 45 of Holiday Love
“You’re fucking unbelievable. That’s what it means,” he sneers. “Of course you’re not mad. Why would you be? You never gave a damn about her.”
My head jerks back. “That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is,” he cuts in. “I saw how you were with her. Gave her attention when she was right in front of you and forgot about her the minute she walked out of the room.” His voice tightens, just enough to betray that this is personal. “You never appreciated her. Not once. You used her, and that’s messed up.”
The space between us feels smaller now, thick with resentment. Flashes from the past crowd in—Anthony showing up at the bar whenever Gina worked, disappearing early on nights she spent in my room, drinking heavier afterward. Things I never thought twice about now fall into place like pieces of a picture I should’ve seen years ago.
“How long?” I rub my forehead.
“What?” His tone is hard, defensive.
I drop my hand to my side, my fingers twitching to scratch my leg, but I can’t.Stupid cast.“How long have you liked Gina?” I ask softly.
“I don’t—” His voice cracks mid-denial. His mouth closes. He looks away. That’s all the answer I need.
“Fuck,” I mutter, dropping my head into my hands. Guilt swirls around me. How could I have not seen it? Anthony’s feelings for Gina? How could I have not wondered if there was someone better for her? Who could give her more than a couple of random hookups a week? Someone who wanted to show her off rather than hide her?
Does this makemethe asshole? AmIthe asshole in this situation?
Damnit. I think I am.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Anthony. “I should’ve realized. You liked her…and I…” I exhale hard, guilt churning in my gut. “I’ve been selfish. Wrapped up in my own crap.”
He waves me off with a sharp, dismissive flick of hishand, face still flushed.
“Anthony—”
“Forget it,” he says. Then, almost like a plea, “Just leave her alone, all right? Let me have a chance. I know her better than you ever did.”
I hang my head and sigh, accepting that he’s right. “Okay.”
A long silence settles, thick and heavy as concrete, the kind neither of us knows how to break. My thoughts churn. If Anthony’s been carrying this crush all along and I never saw it, what else have I missed?
Jamie clears his throat, the sound abrupt in the quiet. “So,” he says after a pause, with his voice soft, too casual to be unplanned, “you hear they filled your spot at the bar?”
I look up, recognizing the deflection, his attempt to pivot the conversation, but still his words make my pulse skip. “What?”
“Yeah. Gina.” He flinches slightly, like he’s worried just saying her name will set Anthony off all over again. “She said a new guy started yesterday. Some dude named Keith. Looks like you if you did CrossFit and had a man bun.”
“Keith?” I repeat, the name sour on my tongue. The couch is suddenly less comfortable. The realization that I’m so easily replaceable is a sharp jab to the ribs. I thought I had a place at the bar. That I mattered, but it turns out that I vanished and no one even came looking for me. “No one from the bar called. None of the managers.”
Jamie winces, like he hates being the one to confirm it. “They needed someone to cover. It’s been over two weeks.”
I run a hand through my hair, then hiss when my fingers hit the tender spot at the back of my skull. “I figured they’d wait. I was going to go back once this,” I point at my cast, “comes off.”
“Guess not.” He raises a brow. “Now what? Live here with yoursugar momma?”
“No.” I know he’s teasing, but it lands wrong. Not the right thing to say, not after everything else. “I’ll leave after my cast is off. In the meantime, I can do school online. That information technologies class I need just started.”
He purses his lips and nods. “Cool. You still want to do communications?”
I scrub a hand over my face and groan. “I don’t know. It’s more boring than I thought.”
Anthony leans forward, his voice flat. “So you’ll change majors like you always do.”
My head lifts, defensive. I half-rise, my fists balling. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Chill, Teddy.” Jamie plays peacemaker. He gives a loose shrug and says, “You know what you’re like.”
