I scream, dropping the mug on the porcelain tile, miraculously managing to jump out of the way of the scalding hot liquid.
“Jude, what are you doing here?” I ask. I cross my arms over my chest, uncertain of how transparent this shirt is.
His face is twisted and his gaze is frozen, pointed. “I should ask you the same thing.”
A second later, the heavy thud of trouncing footsteps coming down the stairs grows nearer, and Stone makes his way to the kitchen. In his wrinkled t-shirt, low-slung sweats, and messy bed head, the scene has been set.
There’s no denying that this is exactly what this looks like.
The two of them are locked in a visual standoff, neither one saying a word.
Jude’s nostrils flare, and his creamy complexion turns a deeper shade of scarlet by the second.
Earlier this week, Stone confided in me that Jude and Stassi were both having cold feet about the wedding, and while it killed him to keep quiet, he wanted to wait until Jude had less on his plate. He didn’t want to give him one more thing to deal with on top of everything else. His logic made sense at the time.
Now it’s irrelevant.
“What are you doing here?” Stone asks Jude.
“Came back to get the rest of my things … thought I could come in through the garage and not wake you … sure as hell wasn’t expecting to walk into this.” Jude’s steely gaze drifts from Stone to me and back. “I knew it.”
Jude sneers, pointing his finger in the air.
“I fucking knew it. You piece of shit,” Jude says, charging toward Stone. “You lying sack of shit.”
I’m unsure if Stone’s silence is his way of pleading the fifth—or if he’s weighing his options here, trying to choose between his best friend and a girl.
If I were him, it’d be a no-brainer.
They’re practically family.
Jude and Paul are the only family he’s got.
I’d never expect him to give that up for me.
“I thought it was strange … how you had one of Jovie’s books in your study,” Jude says, “and then when you used that line on me last week … the one about nostalgia being a beautiful liar … it’s the same thing Jovie said to me when I ran into her last month … I knew then and there, Stone, but I wanted to give you a chance to come clean. To tell me like a man.”
Stone still hasn’t said a word.
“You’re my best friend,” Jude says, his voice breaking but his face remaining stoic. “My brother. How could you?”
“I won’t insult you by denying any of this,” Stone finally speaks. “But you have to understand … I’ve been in love with Jovie from the moment I saw her … and I saw her first. She was the girl at the party that I told you about freshman year. The one I couldn’t stop thinking about all week. The one I shut up about when you brought Jovie home because the girl I liked … was also the girl you liked. And as your best friend, as your brother, I saw how happy she made you, so I let it go.”
“Wait,” I turn to Stone. “You told me you didn’t remember meeting me that night … I asked you several times and you denied it every time.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time.”
“By lying?” I ask.
“It’s a bit more nuanced than that,” he says, letting his hands fall at his sides. “But yes. I lied to you, Jovie, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s fucked up is what it is.” Jude’s expression hardens all over again and he points at Stone. “You were the one who told me to break up with Jovie.”
Stone’s jaw clenches.
“Is that true?” I ask him.
“He told me our relationship was stale.” Jude turns to me. “That you didn’t have that fire in your eyes anymore when you looked at me. We had a whole conversation about it in Tulum, didn’t we, Stone? You told me life was too short to spend it with someone who doesn’t make me feel alive—but fuck me. You just wanted to break us up so you could have her for yourself.”
“That’s not—no,” Stone says. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Then what was your end game? Huh? Because you sure had a compelling argument that day.” Jude’s flustered complexion deepens again, and he grabs a fistful of hair.
“I wanted you to leave her so she could find someone better, someone who actually deserved her.”
Jude’s hand falls to his side with a lifeless flop, and he scoffs.
“And who would that be?” He looks Stone up and down.
“Anyone but you,” he says.
Without another word or any sort of warning, Stone charges at Jude again, this time with his arm pulled back and ready to swing. I scream as Stone blocks his strike. Jude stumbles back, his chest puffing and his eyes crazy.