Page 29 of Love Beyond Repair
“I was angry,” I say, knowing it’s no excuse. The silence stretches. Amy takes a deep breath.
“You have no right to be.” I can’t look at her. She’s calling me out. “But she’ll forgive you.”
“I’ll apologize.” I stand, considering whether to go and knock on her door. It’s probably not the best time, so I sit back down.
“She’ll forgive you,” Amy repeats. This time, I look at her. “But if you move forward with this, then break her heart… I won’t.”
And with that, she’s gone.
Chapter fifteen
Ben
Her blonde hair bobs along to the music, completely lost in the beat of the track. The dance floor is sunken in the center of the club, packed with bodies swaying in rhythmic clusters.
Amy and Bex have been up dancing for what seems like hours while Terry and I watch on from the security of the bar. The girls are having a fantastic time; they look happy and sexy. A few guys have them on their radar as they slide up, whispering in their ears.
My stomach tightens as a tall blond guy comes to Bex’s side. She’s a tall woman, but this man is a giant, standing a head and shoulders above her. He leans down to her level and says something. She smiles, then laughs back at himand places her hand on his arm. Jealousy hits me hard, twisting low in my gut. This feeling has been more frequent over the past few months, getting harder to control.
Since Kelsey walked out six months ago, the four of us have been spending a lot of time together. Our relationship appears completely platonic. We have dinner, go clubbing, and spend every weekend in each other’s pockets. Sometimes it feels like we belong in one of those American sitcoms where a group of friends live together and get into all sorts of trouble.
Last week, Amy’s clothes were stuck in the washing machine; the damn thing wouldn’t switch off. No one thought to pull the plug. Her beloved jeans were spinning nonstop for hours. It took the four of us to switch it off and open the door with a crowbar. Poor Amy nearly cried when she saw what was left of them. We all helped drown her sorrows with bottles of wine and terrible rom-com movies.
My focus goes back to my friend dancing with the blond man. Over the last year, she’s gone from strength to strength in her career and personality.
Her friend from work, Wendy, seems to have done wonders for her confidence, helping her embrace her looks and use them to her full advantage. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Wendy in a while. Bex hasn’t mentioned her either.
Terry’s still talking, but I’m not sure what about. I’m not listening. He’s had enough to drink that his words are starting to blend together. Suddenly, he’s in my face, demanding my attention.
“Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”
I look at him pointedly. “What the hell are you on about?”
“Bex.” He jerks his chin toward the dance floor. Words slightly slurred, he says, “Why don’t you just tell her you think she’s hot?”
He lifts an eyebrow.
“’Fraid she’ll knock you back?” he teases, stumbling over his words, before adding, “She’s a lovely girl, Ben. If you like her, you’d be mad not to let her know.”
I’m not sure what way to play this with him. Having barely accepted my feelings for Bex myself, I’m not ready to discuss them with anyone. Least of all Terry. He’s a good guy, but secrecy isn’t one of his strong points. More than likely, he’ll start scheming crazy plans to get us together.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, mate. Bex is my friend.” I look him dead in the eye, hoping my confidence is convincing. “She’s also Kelsey’s friend. Dating my ex’s friends is not something I do,” I continue, then add, “not that I want to,” as an afterthought. The look on Terry’s face tells me he’s not buying it, and deep down, neither am I.
The club is dark and moody. People are becoming intoxicated and losing their inhibitions fast. Bex’s arms are around the guy’s neck, his hands low on her waist. They’re not dancing to the beat anymore. They’re moving to something else entirely.
Strobe lights fly across the crowd in an array of colors, and a machine sprays out smoke at intervals, giving the place a mystic feel. As much as I don’t want to watch, I can’t pull my eyes away. I want to be him. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.
A bubbly brunette approaches me, all smiles and giggles. Introducing herself as Abbey, an aspiring model, she immediately places her hand on my arm.
“Oh my, you do have the bluest eyes I have ever seen,” she purrs in my ear, then runs her tongue over her teeth. “You have no idea how much pleasure I could give you, gorgeous.” Her voice is seductive, but I’m not interested. I remove her hand from my arm.
“Sorry, I’ve got to go.”
I turn back to Terry, who’s staring open-mouthed at me. Watching Bex grind on the dance floor with that prick is driving me insane. Terry knowingly raises his eyebrows, smiles, then saves me graciously. He turns to the girl, who’s looking forlorn at my rejection.
“Sorry, honey. Yes, he’s an idiot, turning down a stunner like you,” Terry says, then points blatantly to Bex. “But see that blonde over there? He wants a bit of that, but hedoesn’t have the balls to tell her. He would rather sit here, lust, then mope in his self-pity.” She giggles, and he beams at her, offering a scrap of paper he just pulled from his pocket. “Here’s my number, though, if you fancy a good time.”
Terry stands and marches toward the door. I follow, stunned by his boldness, not knowing whether to thank him or deck him.
