“Ace has negatives too.”
“Everyone does. I sure do,” I mumble. I drop my gaze to my hands on my lap.
Did I really grab his hands and put them on my chest? And that comment about wanting to have fun? That’s not exactly the truth. I’m not ready for that.
“My negatives? I’m a mess. My life is fucked up, and as a result, I’m all screwed up. I push away the people I care about the most, and I have feelings for Rob, but I might have some for Ace.”
“And I’m chop liver.”
“You’re a fucking bully. You can over here just to insult me.”
“For stepping out—”
“I didn’t cheat!”
“You would still be with Rob if you had your way.”
I say nothing.
“Yet you spent the night grinding against Ace.”
“And Rob? Did he come home last night? Or did he come back this morning smelling like woman’s perfume?”
Gabe blows out a breath. “Why don’t you wear perfume?”
“Most give me a headache. Why are you changing the subject?”
“Believe me. I want the conversation to go back to you listing my positive attributes.”
“How about we handle the one where you will be nice to me one day and then go right back to bullying me the first chance you get?”
“I don’t like—”
“I’ll tell you why. I have a theory.”
“Ah, you’re a wannabe psychiatrist, aren’t you?”
“Not really, but… I think that you don’t like to let people in. You put up walls, and it’s because you want to keep everyone at arm’s length. Rob has his guilt when it comes to his mom, but you…”
I trail off. I know I’m on very dangerous ground here because Gabe’s past isn’t a good one. He had been kidnapped, and his best friend had been too. Gabe made it back home, but his best friend…
“I’m so glad I could meet you,” I whisper.
“Why? I’m an ass, and yes, I could be called a bully, but I’m just talking shit.”
“That’s all anyone does. Talk shit, eat shit, shit shit…”
He laughs. “How does Ace dance? Does he dance like shit?”
“It’s not hard to grind,” I point out.
Gabe lifts his eyebrows. “Did you ever go dancing with Rob?”
“No. And he wanted me to sing, but I need liquid courage for that.”
“Do you sing like shit?”
“I don’t know. Probably.” I rub the back of my neck. “I’m shit.”