Page 123 of Renegade Rift
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I glance at my watch.
Again.
It’s the sixth time I’ve done so in the last thirty minutes.
I promised Juliet I’d be home an hour ago.
I wanted to be home an hour ago.
But how could I say no to the team’s decision to go out to celebrate? Especially when Mercer agreed. Of course, that didn’t stop me from inviting Juliet to join us.
She politely declined and said she wanted to let us have this moment together as a team, and she’d see me when I got home.
Everything in me wanted to tell her she’s as much a part of this team as me, but I stopped myself. Not because it’s not true, but because, like Mercer shoved down my throat, not everyone wants my help. And as much as I want Juliet to understand she’s not alone, she might not be ready for that.
Look at me being all grown up about it and shit.
So, instead of being a bull in a china shop, I’m sulking in the corner of this hole in the wall Mexican restaurant. The epitome of fake-it-till-you-make it, waiting for one of two things: Mercer to give me a sign he’s ready to talk, or permission to leave and get home to Juliet.
“Fuck, you really are a puppy,” Soph says as she slides into the booth I’ve commandeered in the corner, her margarita sloshing over the rim of her glass.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, eyes narrow, trying to decipher what she’s getting at, but also exactly how many of those margaritas she’s had.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head and takes a sip before offering me some, a sign she’s had more than one. Sophia has a rule that the first drink is hers. No matter how good it tastes, she’s not sharing a drop unless she gets a second one.
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I’ve learned my lesson. Tequila makes for loose lips.”
Soph shrugs and takes another sip. “Better than a loose dick.”
I lift my water in solidarity. “Touché.”
She clinks her glass against mine, and we both laugh. There’s not a doubt in my mind Soph is getting sloshed to hide the fact she’s happy Mercer is back. God forbid she let any deep emotion not laced in sarcasm slip free.
“You think he needs saving?”
I crane my neck and follow her gaze to where Mercer is trapped between Carson and Espinoza, who I’d bet money are trying to convince him to sing karaoke with them. Which I only know because they tried and failed to get me up there with them ten minutes ago. Not to mention it’s Carson’s go to team bonding experience.
Something about music being the way to a person’s soul. Honestly, Juliet would probably agree with him.
“We haven’t really had the chance to talk yet. I’m afraid he’ll assume I’m just stepping in to make him talk to me.”
“Damn.” Soph turns and sets her elbow on the table, cutting off my view of our floundering friend. “He really fucked you up by what he said, didn’t he?”
“Maybe a little,”I admit with a halfhearted shrug, unwilling to let her know just how much.
“Listen.” She takes another long sip, solidifying I’ll be getting a call from Sydney making sure her wife is okay. “I’m not saying he was right, but Mercer wasn’t wrong when he said you try to fix everything. You can’t help yourself. That’s who you are, and over-all, we love you for it. But now that you know it can be a little overbearing, you can maybetry to ask yourself if you’ve gone too far before you stick your foot in your mouth.”
“But—”
“What he said doesn’t mean he never wants your help again.”
She gives me a dazzling smile only Drunk Sophia can pull off, and I heave a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go save him.”
“Atta boy,” she says, punching my arm as I slide from the booth, knowing damn well I’ve just been played.
Meddling Soph strikes again.
