“The problem is: I don’t do relationships,” I said. “And besides, we’re so different.”
Bennett looked over at Avery as if perhaps recounting how different they seemed in the beginning of their relationship as well. In fact, I recalled a conversation I had with Avery once in front of the bonfire at the clambake last year. I remember telling her that if I found a strong connection with someone I’d investigate it, too.
Was that a load of bullshit I was telling her back then? I saw what was between them and it was so damn strong—like a current running through the air.
“Not sure we’ve ever thoroughly discussed the reason why you don’t do relationships,” Bennett said. Did he really want to begin talking about this in a bar?
“There’s not a lot to tell except that I didn’t have much to look at growing up. My father is a prick to my mom, you might have even already figured the rest out, and I don’t want—”
I stopped right there. Saying this out loud again was freaking me out. Not because it was Bennett. In fact, I wanted him to know. It was just that I had kept it so close to my vest my entire life and releasing it in these small bursts felt a lot like pulling a Band-Aid off clean—hopefully to find healed skin beneath.
“It’s cool man, I get it,” Bennett said, letting me off the hook. “I do think I already know some of it, so someday when we’re alone, maybe you can tell me the rest.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks, man.”
“Not a problem,” he said, and then followed my gaze over to Jessie again.
“I’ll figure it all out,” I said. “I’m not trying to hurt her, man.”
I was saying so damn much in that sentence that Bennett wasn’t even aware of.
“Oh, I’m not worried you’ll hurt her. Jessie is strong, independent, amazing really,” he said ticking off the qualities I liked about her already. “I’m afraid you’ll be the one that ends up hurt if you don’t get your ass in gear.”
I was left reeling from his comment as Cory called Bennett’s name, attempting to pull him into whatever game they were playing.
Fuck, he was right, as was evidenced by what was happening right in front of me at the bar.
A few minutes later, Jessie stood and headed down the hall toward the bathroom. I saw the guy check her out the whole way across the bar and then he got up to move in that direction. No fucking way would she invite that shit from him. I bolted upright, my chair practically crashing to the floor, my hands clenched into fists.
The entire table looked up at me but I didn’t give a shit.
“What the hell, man?” Cory said, but I ignored him.
I stalked after Jessie into the hallway. When I saw the same dude talking to her against the wall, my chest seized up, and I was unable to inhale a decent breath.
“You okay, Jessie?” I said as I neared her.
She looked over his shoulder and rolled her eyes. Actually fucking rolled her eyes at me. What in the hell?
The guy turned and looked me up and down. “She’s fine. We’re just talking.”
Then he spun back to Jessie and said, “Who the hell is that?”
But before Jessie could answer I cut in. “All you’re doing is talking, huh? That’s why you follow a girl down a dark hall after you just got done hitting on her for a long time at the bar?”
Jessie’s jaw hung open as her eyes flared at me. Actually flared. Did she want to be with this guy? I didn’t give two shits; she wasn’t going to be. Not as long as I could help it.
“Rich boy, take a hike,” the dude with the crazy neck tattoos and ear gauges said. “Unless you want to deal with me.”
“He’s a friend looking out for me, that’s all.” Jessie pushed away from him and backed herself toward the restroom door. “And he could probably take you down, in case you haven’t already gotten a good look at his guns. So both of you just leave me the hell alone and let me pee in peace.”
The dude gave me another once-over before he prowled past me back to the bar. Jessie stepped into the bathroom but before she could close the door, I pushed my way inside.
She backed herself against the sink, surprised by my intrusion, and suddenly I remembered how she’d walked in on me that night while I had a girl in here in much the same position. I think she remembered as well because there was this look in her eye that was a cross between desire and rigidity.
“Really, Nate?” she said, her hands planted firmly on her hips, much like that one night. “You’re gonna go all caveman on me just because some guy was talking to me at the bar?”