“Yep, it got damaged, alright. When you found out they’re coming together.” She looks too happy with herself.
“I don’t give a shit who she’s coming with.” I snap.
“Sure you don’t.” She laughs again, and Alex nudges her shoulder. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna go and check if anyone needs anything." She raises to her tippy toes and kisses Alex on the cheek. I feel a ping of jealousy. I haven't had those sweet kisses before. They usually lead to a fuck or end a good fuck. I don’t kiss goodbyes, I don’t get a supportive kiss, I don’t share a kiss when I’m happy, I don’t share a kiss when I’m down. I deal with my shit on my own, that's how I'm used to, and that's how I like it. So why, out of nowhere, am I jealous of what they have?
“You good?”
“Yeah,” I say and go to grab towels to clean the mess I created. I wish I could clean the mess in my life like that, too.
“You have something going on with Kayla?” his voice is probing.
“No.” I snap at him, and I understand he doesn’t like my anger, but I’m too wound up to care now.
“It’s okay if you do, though.” He suggests calmly.
“I said I don’t.” I bite back. I don’t need his permission.
“Okay. Make sure you keep your cool when they’re here. I don’t need to clean blood off the walls.” The warning in Alex’s voice is clear.
“Worried about your pretty boy?” I say, trying to rile him up.
“I’m not sure who I’m more worried about here, to be honest. I’ve seen Archie fight.” Alex counters, a ghost of a smile on his face.
“You haven’t seen me fight for something I want before.” I say before I can think.
“So she’s something you want?” He got me there.
“Fuck off.” I flip him off and continue cleaning the floor while he grabs a mop, puts a cloth on it and begins wiping the ceiling. Yeah, quite a mess I’ve made.
By the time we’re done, Freya comes back to the kitchen. She snakes her arm around Alex’s torso and asks, “We’re hungry. Can you start the grill, please?”
“Sure.” He kisses the top of her head. Alex is a giant dude, and Freya seems so tiny compared to him. And yet, he is just a gentle giant with her. I’ve seen this vicious motherfucker in action, and he is so not like that. He gives her another kiss before turning to me. “You coming?”
"Yeah, let me finish, and I'll be there."
He nods, and they walk outside. Once I'm done, I go to the sink. A small hand lands on my shoulder while I'm washing my hands.
“Hey there!” a too cheerful and too…girlyvoice says from behind me. You know, one of those high-pitched ones that was surely practiced in front of the mirror for hours. “The way you broke that bottle,” she fans herself with her incredibly long, well-manicured hand. Before, I would have found them attractive, “was so hot.”
"Yeah?" I ask as I wipe my hands. "How is that?"
“I mean,” she blinks her eyes, “you are so strong and all that.” Her hand lands on my pec, and I look down. Her hand seems foreign there, like it doesn’t belong. Too clean. Too boring. No tattoos.
“Yeah?” I ask again because I was done with this conversation before it even started.
She blinks and opens her mouth a few times before she says, “I’m Lou, the new designer.”
“Nice.” Freya probably hired her to work on something at the PTSD center before the opening.
She blinks again, clearly waiting for me to offer my name, but I’m rolling the asshole dice today. I’m giving off a strong ‘fuck-off’ vibe (which is so not me when a beautiful woman is involved, and Louisbeautiful), but she doesn’t catch it, and continues. “You must be Justin. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“I’m sure you have. Excuse me.” I say, taking her hand, still plastered on my chest, off me as I amble to the door. I need some fresh air.
There is a nice barbeque patio on the side of the building with rows upon rows of plastic tables and chairs. I’m sure the whole town could fit in here. The Dancing Pony is about to get a big competitor for theme nights.
Alex is standing by the grill alone, and I join him, looking around. Maybe I missed her arrival. But she's not here, and I feel relief and anger. What the fuck is she doing with that pretty boy? He’s no good for anything.
“I see what you meant about peaches now.”
