Jamie reaches out and squeezes my arm. “I miss us. I miss having you there when I get home at night. Knowing you’ll be there if I need anything.” Every word is about how his life has been impacted. It has nothing to do with my feelings.
“What about the girl?” I hate that I’m even asking. I should tell Jamie to choke on a bag of dicks, spin away from him with a toss of my hair and my middle finger raised to the sky.
“She was a mistake. A momentary blip.”
A blip. Right. “You just happened to blip right into her vagina.”
“Really, Ava. You’re making me feel so bad. That makes me feel horrible. Don’t say things like that.”
These words bring back a rush of familiar sensation. The gaslighting. As if my feelings aren’t important, except for how when I express them, they make him feel bad. How many times in the past has Jamie scolded me for making him feel terrible when I brought up a legitimate problem? It made every conversation rife with land mines. I never knew when I’d step on one with a topic that should have been harmless. I don’t want that in my life anymore.
“How do you remember me?” I’m not about to apologize to him, and I really don’t want to think about his cheating anymore. I’m curious about how he remembers me, though. Jamie knows what my curse is. I hate that he does, but I foolishly trusted him when we first got together. I needed him to know that he would forget me if we didn’t see each other often enough.
“I’d never forget you, Ava.” He squeezes my shoulder.
“You’re just immune to my curse now?”
“I…” He flounders. “It's just our connection–”
“–I'm not sorry for interrupting. I need my concussion specialist.” Bram’s voice startles me enough that I jump back from Jamie’s reach.
“Did you just say you’re not sorry?” Jamie’s mouth is pulled back in a scowl. His white teeth are almost the only thing I can see in the dark.
“Yes. Go away.”
I stifle a laugh, and Jamie’s head snaps around to look at me. “Really, Ava, you think this is funny?”
“Yes. I like when he’s rude to other people.” Just not to me.
“We’re not done talking.” Jamie reaches for me again, but Bram steps in between us, blocking his way. I poke my head around Bram’s shoulder.
“We’re done. Thanks for the chat. I needed a good reminder of why I’m better off without you.”
“Now you’re just showing off. Do you really think he wants someone like you?” Jamie throws back at me. He takes a step forward, but Bram’s large frame is intimidating enough that he rethinks the move. “That you would ever be hot enough for him? Maybe he’ll fuck you out of pity, but don’t fool yourself, Ava.”
I feel dirty knowing he’s touched me in the past, like I need a shower. That feeling is closely edged out by embarrassment. I would never think someone like Bram would want me. I have eyes. I know I’m a frumpy, mousy mess most of the time. He’s a walking bastion of male virility.
“Did you hit your head too? Because the shit spewing from your mouth is nonsense,” I say through gritted teeth, but it lacks bite.
Jamie stomps off, grumbling something under his breath.
Bram spins around and we’re chest to chest. Well, not really. More like head to chest. I crane my neck to look at him, but it’s so dark I can barely make out a glint in his eye. He steps forward, pushing my body into the side of the stand. It’s more of a wooden shack that’s used to sell refreshments to resort patrons in the summer. His hand lands on a plank of wood next to my head, and he leans down until his eyes are level with mine.
“He was spewing nonsense.” I don’t want Bram to think I believe he wants to have sex with me. I’m not delusional.
“That guy is a dick.”
“I know.” I huff indignantly. He doesn’t need to tell me. I’m the one who dated the man-boy for too fucking long.
“Then why bother talking to him?” Bram’s face is so close to mine, his breath ghosts over my lips. He smells like chocolate, like he’s been eating smores by the fire. He’s so close there’s not even room for the Crone between us. His body is so big I feel dainty for possibly the first time in my life.
“Why do you care?” It takes concentration to get the question out. What is this? It can’t be…jealousy. The thought is laughable. There’s no way Bram has any feelings outside of friendship for me. Even friendship is pushing it.
Right?
“I don’t. I’ve just seen him ignore you, and now he decides you’re worthy of his attention. Don’t you have any self-respect.”
I push at Bram’s chest, shoving him away, but he barely budges an inch. “Screw you. That was my curse. I don’t know why he suddenly remembers me. It’s probably because I’m that fucking amazing, and even magic can’t stop him from thinking about what he threw away.” I’m talking out of my asshole. As if I believe any of that about myself, but fuck Bram. “And no, I have very little self-respect. Thank you very much. That’s why I don’t mind hanging out with you.”
