I look over at Whit, who is talking with Bree, and when our eyes meet, he flushes.
Oh hell.
“Alright, well, let’s grab our drinks and then find a table. Then we can get to work,” Mal says, eyeballing Whit.
Whit looks at him and then me and then back at Bree, continuing their conversation like he hadn’t just overheard us making plans.
He has to know why I’m here.
We all order beers, except Whit, who orders a gin and tonic, and we make our way over to a table and slide in. Mal and Bree, then Whit and me.
If this had been before, I would’ve slid closer to him, hooked our ankles together, maybe even slung one of my legs over his, but he made it clear he wasn’t interested in continuing anything, so I give him a healthy distance.
And by healthy, I mean a few inches because this booth is tiny.
“Alright, bro,” Mal says, stretching his arm around Bree. “Let’s see who we can find for ya.”
They begin looking around the bar, and I take a sip of my beer, doing my best to ignore Whit, who is sitting stiffly beside me, his long fingers turning his drink around and around and around.
“What about her?” Bree asks, pointing to a brown-haired woman leaning up against the wall. She’s wearing cowboy boots and a short white dress.
“She’s pretty,” I say.
“Looks like she’s here alone,” Mal says and then asks, “What you think, Whit. She look good enough for my boy?”
Whit stops spinning the glass in his hand and looks up at my best friend, who may or may not be a little salty about how Whit left things with me. Mal’s been the one who’s listened to me process this entire thing. He’s slightly overprotective and very loyal.
Whit swallows. “I’m not sure what his type is, so I can’t objectively say.”
I roll my eyes and lean back in my seat, and my thigh bumps Whit’s leg. On accident. Still, a tingle spreads through me at the contact.
“How about her?” Bree offers, pointing to a redhead on the opposite side of the bar. She’s laughing with her friends and seems like the life of the party.
“She looks fun,” I say, and Whit takes a long sip of his drink.
“Want to get out and chat them up? See which one sticks?” Mal asks.
I shrug. “Yeah, give me a minute to finish my beer.”
“You mind if we go dance while you do that. Love this song,” Bree says, and I wave them away.
Mal looks reluctant to go but is ultimately swayed by Bree’s hands moving all over him. He’s a total sucker for her. Has had a crush on her for ages. The fact that she’s now giving him the time of day has made his entire life.
When Whit and I are finally alone, we sit there in silence until Whit leans toward me. “I didn’t realize you were coming here to pick someone up.”
“Yep. That’s the plan,” I tell him, not sure what to say. “That bother you?”
Whit spins the glass around in his hand and takes another sip but doesn’t answer me.
I swallow down the rest of my beer and slap the table, starling Whit a bit.
“Welp, off I go. Wish me luck,” I tell him and scoot out of the booth. I can feel Whit’s eyes on me as I stride across the floor. Good. He did this. We could have been fucking around this whole week, but he made it weird. He can lie in the bed he made. Without me.
I make my way over to the brown-haired woman, who smiles at me sweetly. She looks like she’d be nice to take to bed. Maybe she’d even hold me after.
She tells me her name, and we shake hands. She has soft skin, kind of like….
“Excuse me. Can I talk to you, Caleb,” a voice says in my ear, and I turn around and see Whit standing behind me, his lips set in a thin line.