Breaking Even(47)

I turn and glower at the fool talking to Dane Sterling, but he doesn’t notice. I should kick his ass for this. Brin came to my house thinking she was going to cook, and I fucking offered to let her ride with me and my date. She thinks I’m the one who didn’t cancel. I should throttle the both of them for doing this to us.

“We’re not guinea pigs, Ash,” I growl.

“I know,” she says apologetically. “It’s just... Rye, you smile when you’re with her. You laugh. You joke. And you look so damn happy. I’ve never seen any of that with you until you met her. And it happens every time she’s around. I just wanted you to see what’s right in front of you. Jealously is a good motivation. Tag and I messed around and wasted so much time. I didn’t want you two to do the same thing.”

Fuck. Can’t we just be friends? It’s like I’m speaking a foreign language that no one can understand.

“Thanks to you, Brin thinks I bailed on her to go out with Leah, and now she’s over there with Captain Jerk who keeps staring at your ass every time you walk by. Think about that the next time you want to play the manipulation game.”

I start to walk over to Brin, but Ash starts crying, and I groan. Fucking pregnancy hormones.

“Shit, Ash. I’m sorry.”

“No. You’re right,” she sniffles. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I just want... you... two... to be... happy,” she says through harsh, labored, tearful breaths.

Motherfucker. I’m going to hang myself right now.

“You had good intentions,” I say while pulling her to me and hugging her. “I’ll go talk to Brin and save her from the reject she’s with. But it’s because we’re friends, Ash. I like Brin too much to date her. Do you understand that? I don’t date long, but I keep friends for life.”

She pauses her sniffling as she looks up, frowning. “Fine. Go be her friend.”

Once I’m sure she’s not going to break into a sobbing fit, I start to walk toward Brin, but her date is almost at the bar, so I go toward him instead. “Two Coronas,” I say to the bartender as he mixes a fruity drink.

Brin’s not too crazy about fruity stuff.

“You friends with Ash?” I ask while turning back toward the party.

“Sort of,” he says, shrugging as his eyes land on Leah.

The redhead waves at me, and I wave back, suddenly feeling like the biggest jerk of the night. Brin... She had to have thought I was the worst person ever earlier. I’m going to kill Tag.

“Damn,” he drawls, watching Leah with too much interest. “You with her?”

He’s got a gem but he wants a stone. Dumbass.

“For tonight. Tag set us up.”

He scowls at that comment. “You’re lucky. All these hot girls are walking around everywhere, but Ash set me up with a girl I could get on my own. I just assumed that I was coming to meet her, but then she explained it was a friend. Didn’t know Ash was married, but she’s hot, so that means hot friends. Then I get in here, and every girl is banging hot except for mine. Don’t get me wrong, she’s cute and fuckable, but definitely not someone I’d pick out of this crowd.”

I’m pulling my fist down before I even realize I’ve just knocked him on his ass, and the whole party goes quiet as the wailing grows louder. The cocksucker is on his back, crying as he curls up into the fetal position while his nose pours blood.

Dick.

Tag’s mouth is open, but I still see the smile in his eyes. I’ll deal with him later. He’ll suffer the wrath for him and Ash, because I’m not making her cry again.

“What?” I bark at everyone, and they all turn away quickly, returning to what they were doing with forced casualness.

Brin is missing from the table, and I curse while running my hand through my hair. She’s probably even more pissed at me now.

“Where’d she go?” I ask Ash, glaring at her.

When her lip trembles, I soften my look immediately, and she points toward the house.

Leah starts to speak as I pass by, but I completely ignore her as I take quick, determined steps to the house. Going through the patio entrance, I end up in the kitchen first, and there she is, sitting on the countertop while drinking her beer.

“Hey,” she murmurs quietly while looking through the window in front of her, not staring at anything in particular.

“Sorry, Brin. I shouldn’t have punched out your date, but he—”

“Spare me the details,” she interrupts on a long sigh, her eyes moving down to her beer. “I have a pretty good idea what he probably said. I don’t need the exact words. Thanks for punching him. I’m just waiting on a cab.”