RYE
“You came,” Tag says with a frown.
What the hell?
“Yeah, and I picked up Leah. You’re right; she knows all her shit about cars. She went to grab us some drinks.”
Please don’t ask me what color her dress is.
I know she has red hair, a slim body, and a vast amount of knowledge about anything with wheels, but I can’t seem to remember what color dress she has on.
His frown only deepens, and his eyes trail over to the back gate to his patio as it opens. In walks the girl who pissed me off, and she doesn’t have anyone with her. What dick couldn’t go pick her up?
Wren didn’t go get her either, but it was planned for them to meet here so that neither of them felt compelled to get along. It put them on neutral, easy grounds. This dick Ash has for her isn’t affiliated with our group, so he should have gone to pick her up.
I try not to breathe differently when I see how fucking perfect she looks. The light blue sundress is flowing at the bottom instead of tight like the other girls are wearing. She looks so damn sweet and tempting. I can almost see her blue eyes from here, like they are glistening as she searches the party.
“So you really went and picked up Leah?” Tag asks, his eyes going from me to Brin.
“It sounded like you wanted me to, so I did. Brin’s date here yet? I think she’s looking for him.”
He mutters something about stubbornness and pride, but I have no idea what. Nor do I care.
“So it doesn’t bother you that Brin is here with a date?” Tag asks, fishing hard for something he won’t catch.
It’s driving me crazier by the second, and she hasn’t even met the guy yet. But I refuse to tell him that, because he’ll never let us just be friends. He’ll keep pushing me until I crack, and Brin’s not the kind of girl you have fun with in the bedroom. She’s the kind you marry.
Not me. I don’t want something that serious, and it would have to be that serious with her—monogamy, steady dinners at a set time, cuddling on the couch for hours, and recording our favorite shows. That’s not who I am. It can’t be who I am. Some people just don’t have the luxury of picturing themselves happy.
Some people have seen the real side of the ending instead of the happily-ever-after fable people want to believe.
“Here’s your drink,” Leah says, smiling as she hands me the Corona.
I offer her a brief smile, and make a mental note that she’s wearing a dark red dress in case Tag asks. It’s hot that she knows so much about cars, but it’s also annoying. Though I love talking about cars all day, I prefer to be the one educating. I don’t like feeling like someone thinks they are educating me. It actually pisses me off.
Brin just listens and smiles and asks questions, and that’s what I like—someone who I can teach. This girl is making me dread going to the garage because of how dull it all sounds.
“Brin!” Ash calls cheerily as she makes her way toward her with a guy I’d like to punch.
Maybe she won’t leave with him. Then I can keep my sanity without making a scene.
***
BRIN
I can’t believe I let Maggie talk me into this. It’s so much harder than I thought it was going to be.
Rye’s date is stunningly beautiful, and even though he looked my way for a while, now his eyes are back on her—his perfect date—as he drinks the beer she brought him. He was probably pitying my pathetic attempt to blend in.
What was I thinking by wearing a sundress?
Ash finally makes it to me while pulling the arm of a guy who might as well have douchebag tattooed on his forehead. Great.
“Adam, this is Brin. Brin this is Adam,” Ash introduces, and I try to rein in my temper when I see his expression.
There are numerous things a guy can do that I don’t understand. There are several expressions I can’t decipher. But I know disappointment when I see it.
“Oh,” he says, forcing a smile. “Nice to meet you.”