2. Jackson
“You should just go for it, man,” Nate comments, sidling up beside me at the bar as Dani puts in the order.
“And you should mind your own damn business,” I joke back at him, pretending like Aubree doesn’t get to me. Like I don’t want to slide in next to her and press my lips against hers. I have to hold back a groan at the thought. I’m not a lightweight, but four lagers and apparently I’m feeling the effects.
“I think you two should just get together for a night. Just saying it might be good to finally clear that sexual tension.”
My body reacts to the suggestion, but so does the last sober bit of me. “And ruin our friendship?”
Nate’s smirk and lifted brow piss me off. “Don’t act like it’s not a possibility,” I tell him lowly, leaning against the bar top, hoping he gets it. He’s been joking about it for months since he caught me staring at her like some lovesick puppy dog. “If we did anything, you know damn well it would change everything between us.”
Nate’s dark eyes narrow as he seems to consider my dilemma. It’s only ever been a joke. Nothing like the conversation we’re having now and how I’m riddled with anxiousness.
“How would you feel if some guy came in and they started making out?” he asks and as he does, I set my glass down a little too hard on the bar top. It doesn’t crack, but the sound is jarring enough that Dani turns from the tap, her brow raised.
I raise a hand in defense and say, “Didn’t break it. Sorry.”
“No harm, no foul,” she answers with a grin.
“Come on, how would you feel,” Nate presses, dropping his voice so no one can hear. Honestly, I’m not sure if they can or not in this crowd. I’m tipsy and the bar is loud, but in this small town everyone seems to hear everything even when it’s whispered. “If some guy came in, hit on her and they hit it off.” He gestures behind us. “If they were making out in that booth you were just sitting in beside her.”
“She wouldn’t do that.” My head shakes and my entire body stiffens. I never knew jealousy until Aubree introduced me to her boyfriend years ago. I’m not a fan.
“If it happened, you wouldn’t like that.”
“I’d be happy that she’s happy.” I give him the lie and take refuge in my beer. It’s crisp and cold still, even though it’s the last of it.
“Bullshit,” Nate says, not letting up.
Squaring my shoulders, I stare him down. “Let it go, man.”
Every other reason gets caught in my throat:
If she was into me, I’d know by now.
If it was going to happen, it would have happened by now.
Nate shrugs, the jersey he’s wearing pulling tighter on his shoulders. “Fine,” he states casually, but then adds, “Don’t come crying to me when some other guy is the one to get cozy with her ’cause you don’t have the balls to kiss her first.”
I’m paralyzed with a mix of emotions. I don’t trust myself to answer. Nate seems to notice my lack of a response and glances over my way.
“Fuck, man, I’m sorry. Just ignore me. All right?”
Anger bristles along my shoulders as I turn to face the TV in the corner, although it also allows me to watch Aubree from the corner of my eye.
“I mean it, I’m sorry. I just … think you two would hit it off.”
My tongue sweeps along my bottom lip as I watch Aubree finish her beer. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair’s in a loose braid and a smile graces her face from whatever my sister just told her.
“I just can’t risk changing some things, you know?” I say, finally answering Nate.
“They’re going to change either way,” he tells me in all seriousness and there’s an ache in my chest. A familiar pull like the sense of loss. Loss of something I’ve never even had.
The moment Aubree scoots from the booth, her hand reaches out to me as she stabilizes herself, fixing her baggy sweater that swallows up her small frame. It’s these little touches that get me.
How she knows she can rely on me. How she likes to even.
“You all good?” I ask her and she lets out a small laugh. That sound. It wriggles its way through me, warming me. Her hazel eyes slip to mine and she bites down slightly on her lower lip. “Just have to run to the ladies’ room.”
“You might want to walk, it’s a bit crowded,” I tease her. It’s cheesy and the grin Nate has growing on his face tells me he heard it too.
Whatever, she still laughs.
Shaking her head, she brushes past me, and everything inside of me wants to wrap my arm around her waist, pull her in and ask her if she wants to come home with me.
It’s a feeling I’m used to. And so is this chill that sweeps in the moment she walks away.
“Dani, she needs another,” I call out to the bartender the moment Aubree’s gone.
Dani’s quick to place the beer down in front of me even though it’s for Aubree.
“She didn’t even ask who ‘she’ is,” Nate comments.
Reaching over the tabletop, I snag an orange slice Dani forgot, and drop it into Aubree’s glass. “Can’t I be happy with this as it is?” I ask him genuinely.
Before he can answer, Aubree’s right there, watching me place the beer at her seat.
“You looking out for me? Or just trying to get me drunk?” There’s this small smile she gives me sometimes. It’s there now as she lifts the beer to her lips and slips deeper into the booth to give me room to sit if I want to.
“Maybe a little of both,” I joke, questioning if I should sit. If I should push it a little more tonight than I have before.
“Which one would you prefer?” I ask her, feeling this hot nervousness prick along every inch of my skin as she stares up at me.
She smirks back, all flirtatious and never breaking eye contact when she says, “Maybe a little of both?”