Being the good friend that she was, Lena didn’t point out Emily’s still tear-swollen eyes or the blotchy redness around her nose that no amount of concealer had been able to conquer.
The waiter returned with their drinks, and Emily offered up her firstborn if he’d make sure she had another on the table before she made it down to the ice.
“So you’re happy?” Lena asked, clinking their glasses with a gentle smile. “Relieved to be free?”
Emily nodded with a professional-grade smile. “I am. I really, really am.”
Or at least she would be once she convinced herself she hadn’t actually fallen in love with Jase. That she hadn’t let herself believe in something she’d been denying for too many years to count.
The sympathy was there in her friend’s eyes as she scooped up her own heaping chip. “Okay, then we’ll celebrate.”
* * *
“Bull’s-eye.” Jase crossed to the board and pulled out his darts, realizing only after that he hadn’t bothered to check what he’d scored.
Sean would know. Even deep in conversation with Max and Brody back at their table, the guy was like Rain Man when it came to keeping tallies, counting anything really. One of the reasons they never played cards with him. A fact that had Emily screwing up her face when he’d told her. She’d laughed in disbelief, her eyes crinkling at the corner, her mouth…
Shit.
Handing the darts off to Brody, Jase stepped aside.
Three sets of eyes followed him and he grimaced. “What?”
Sean cleared his throat uncomfortably, that pitying look of his causing the muscles along Jase’s spine to tighten. He was sick of that look. It was almost as bad as the one he’d been facing in the mirror every morning and night for six damn days now.
“Game’s over, Jase,” Sean said, then clarified. “Actually, Brody won before your toss.”
Molly stopped by their table to clear a few empties, cutting Jase a no-nonsense look. “You talk to her yet?”
He had to give the girl credit. None of the guys had had the balls to ask what he was pretty sure was on all of their minds.
“No. There wasn’t a whole lot of uncertainty about how we left things. And honestly, it was probably for the best.”
It had taken a couple of days for him to get to that way of thinking. Days of trying to come up with a solid reason to call, and then cursing himself for having been such a thorough fuck in clearing his stuff out of her place toward the end. Wondering if he should just check in and make sure she was okay—only to remind himself that even if she wasn’t, he wasn’t the guy she was going to want to chat with about it.
Molly set her tray down.
“The best?” she coughed out, her arms crossing over her chest in a move that was eerily similar to her brother’s and had Jase edging into the seat farthest from where she was standing. “Have you even seen yourself, Jase? You’re a mess. Minus the hot.”
Max gave a single-shoulder shrug beside him. “She’s right. You look like hell.”
“Week-old roadkill,” Sean chimed in with a grin, stretching back in his chair.
“It’s this business,” Brody offered, sort of circling his hands around his head as a whole, before splaying his fingers wide and making explosion noises.
Molly scowled at the guys and then turned back to Jase. Snapped her fingers in his face. “Get your hands out of your hair, for crying out loud. It looks like you’ve been yanking on it for days.”
Jase lowered his hands. “Guess I’ve been…stressed some.”
She raised an accusing brow. “Janice texted that you showed up at work on Monday looking like some kind of Sasquatch.”
Et tu, Janice?
“I was trying something new. Beards are in these days.”
A sad, sorry, disgusted little huff of breath was his answer. Well, his first answer.
“Not for you, Jase. I thought I made this clear when you were in college. You’re a clean-shaven kind of guy. When you feel like being a rebel, one day of stubble max. Anything more and—” She sighed. “If you ever want her back, you’re going to need to pull your shit together and fix your hair.”
If he wanted her back.
That was the thing.
Brody cleared his throat, leaning forward over his arms. “You do want her back though, right?”
Scrubbing his palm over his mouth, Jase shook his head. “A part of me feels like I’m dying without her.” Like he could barely breathe every time he thought about those last words between them in that fucking cab.
The way she’d given up on wiping at the tears and just let them fall.
“I’m sorry, Jase.”
“I’m sorry too.”
How the sight of her walking away through the rain had left him gutted.
It had been bad, and it wasn’t getting any better.
“So do something about it, man. Call her up. Send her flowers. Just go over there.”
Brody the fixer.
“Grovel, Jase.”
With his sidekick, Molly.
Jase shook his head. “That’s the thing. As bad as this is, I don’t think it was a mistake.”
“The fuck?” Sean snapped, that laid-back posture going ramrod straight. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“No, man. I’m not.” And he’d stopped kidding himself too. Though it hadn’t come easily. “This thing with Emily was never going to last. Hell, neither one of us was looking for a relationship to go the distance.”
Molly’s mouth had firmed into a thin line. “That’s bull. You might not have been looking for it, but if you were willing to pull your head out of your ass for five minutes, I think you’d realize you could have had it.”
Jase thought about his mom, back again after all these years. “Yeah, well, just because something can go the distance doesn’t always mean it should.”
He’d gotten in too deep with Emily. Lost sight of his own priorities.
“Sometimes a clean break is the best-case scenario.”
The guys didn’t look like they were buying it, but being guys, they shrugged. Molly, on the other hand, wasn’t a guy, no matter how much she hung out with them.
Her eyes moved from Jase to Brody to Max and then Sean, her temper showing more with each stop. “You guys are such idiots.”
Brody’s hands came up in front of him. “What did I do?”
She shook her head and picked up her tray again, muttering “Nothing. Just forget it” as she turned back to the bar.
Sean stared after her a second, all humor wiped clean from his face.
“Moll seeing someone I didn’t know about?” he asked, pushing up from his seat and looking like he was going to follow her until Max’s hand landing on his shoulder set him back in his chair.
“I got this.”
Sean brushed Max’s arm free. “Screw that. You’re a damned vault. No way I’m letting you go find out what bee’s in her bonnet alone.”
Max rolled his eyes, but then they both got up and headed toward the servers’ station.
Jase slumped back against his chair, tired. Worn out.
Brody picked up his pint and took a long swallow. Closed his eyes, savoring the dark stout. Emily had liked that shit too, joking it was like eating a sandwich.
His stomach churned, and he did what he’d sworn he wouldn’t.
“She been in here at all?”
Brody shook his head. “Only been a few days. Give you a month before beating your ass for costing me a customer.”
A month.
The thought was like something unpleasant rising up in his throat.
Forcing a smile, Jase smacked the table and stood. “Heading up to the bar. You want anything?”
“I’m good.”
Cutting through the tables, Jase nodded to the faces
he knew. Kept his feet moving until he was standing at the polished bar.
“Hiya, Jase. What can I get you?” Dillon asked while filling someone’s Blue Moon order.
A whiskey sounded good. Or maybe three would do what his beer hadn’t. Numb him up just enough to stop thinking about Emily and actually fall asleep.
“Just a water, thanks.” He wasn’t going to spiral out like his father had. Not over some woman he didn’t even—
The thought ground to a halt before he could even get the rest of the lie formed in his mind.
Because that’s what it would be. A lie.
Well, there it was.
He loved her. He’d gone and fallen in love with Emily…which didn’t change anything except his projected estimate on how long it would take him to get over this feeling of being gutted every time he thought about her.
And he pretty much thought about her all the time.
Two heavy hands landed on his shoulders, giving him a rough squeeze. Max, apparently through with Molly.
“What do you say to another game?”
Jase didn’t want to. Hell, he didn’t want to do anything. But he pushed off the bar and, bringing his water with him, headed back to the dartboard.
“One last game.”
* * *
Emily had moved around a lot growing up. Her father’s work took them to a new city and state every couple of years until they landed in Oak Park for good when she was sixteen. She’d seen her share of the country, and of all the places she’d lived and visited, Chicago’s summertime lakefront was her favorite. Or it had been.
These last three weeks, the winding paths and vast, blue-green expanse of moody water were more of an escape.
A place to turn off her mind, at least for a little while.
Because if she ran long enough and hard enough, eventually that’s what happened.
Except today, it seemed.
She’d set out early like she always did, taking advantage of the cooler temperatures, the muted light, and the quiet while she had them. She’d run past Belmont Harbor and North Avenue Beach, down past Oak Street. Mile after mile. And still her head wouldn’t stop taking her to all the places she didn’t want to go.
So she pushed her pace, pushed it some more, and—
“Ahh!”
—stumbled to a limping stop, where she bent over and rubbed at her throbbing calf.
“That doesn’t look good.”
Emily startled at the familiar voice. Pushing a few escapee ponytail hairs back from her eyes, she straightened.
“Max, I didn’t see you,” she gasped, still catching her breath as she tried a few steps to see if she could walk it off.
Max was crossing a grassy area between the sidewalk and path, a cup of coffee in one hand and an actual newspaper in the other. Old school. Typical Max.
“Guess not,” he said with that stern almost-smile of his. “Looked like you were running for your life there.”
That obvious? Ugh.
“You know, angry mob of zombies,” she joked, not really knowing what else to say. “Think I lost them, though.”
“Good thing, the way you’re hobbling around there, Em.” Then, more seriously, he asked, “Feel like you tore something?”
She leaned down again, gingerly testing the muscle. Stretching it out a bit. “Just a strain, probably.”
But there wouldn’t be any more running today. Which meant she was going to have to count on work to distract her. And good luck with that, after seeing one of Jase’s best friends.
If she was smart, she’d limp away as fast as her good leg would take her. But seeing Max was just…nice. She’d missed hanging out with the gang, but as close as she’d gotten with them over the time she and Jase had been together, calling them up or stopping by just seemed wrong.
This accidental encounter though?
Why not.
“How’ve you been? I was wondering whether you got that fishing trip set up with the guys from the precinct.”
Max nodded, taking a sip of his coffee, the movement stretching his T-shirt around his bicep. The man was seriously buff.
“Yeah, Richy and me and a couple of other guys are goin’ end of August. Thanks again for tippin’ us off to those island campgrounds.”
She grinned, happy it was working out for them. They talked a bit more about the spot. About Molly giving him the hard-core sulk when she found out it was cops only and she couldn’t come. And Brody giving him a lecture, more than he ever wanted to know, on healthy versus unhealthy fish.
But nothing about Jase.
Which was probably for the best. Even if the ache in her heart was growing with every second that passed.
“It was great seeing you, Max. I’ve got to head back if I’m going to make it in to the office by eight. Enjoy your coffee and paper.”
She turned to go and winced.
“No way, Em. You can barely walk on that. Jase would kill me if I left you like this.”
There it was. The J word. And more than that, the suggestion that he was still emotionally invested in her well-being.
For a moment her heart soared, but just as quickly she tumbled back to earth. To the reality that it didn’t matter if he still cared. Or that she did.
Max cleared his throat beside her. “Hey, I was sorry to hear about you guys.”
She tried to smile, but it broke a little as she answered, “Me too.”
“Aww hell, Emily,” Max groaned, the big guy looking like he was ready to bolt. “Don’t cry. I can’t take the tears.”
She’d heard that from Jase. She loved that such a hard man had such a soft weakness.
Swiping at her eyes, she shook her head. “Not crying. Just some pollen or sand or something. I promise.”
“If you say so. Look, I don’t want you to be late for work. My car’s just across the road.”
A minute later, he’d pulled up to the curb and she was carefully climbing into the black Charger.
They made small talk about plans and friends. The reverse commute. Max getting a haircut later that afternoon.
“Belmont exit?” he asked when they were getting closer.
“Yeah, and thanks for this. But, um, do you think maybe we could keep the sand that got in my eyes between us?”
“Yeah, we can do that.” Max snickered. “And, Emily, I don’t know if it helps any to hear it, but Jase isn’t any better off than you are.”
Scrunching down in her seat, she turned to the passenger window.
At the stoplight a block from her place, Max let out a tight breath and handed her a tissue. “For the sand.”
Chapter 24
July
Jase had known it was coming.
Hell, he’d planned for it. Waited nearly a whole damned week for it after Molly spilled the news that Brody had seen Emily riding in Max’s car on Tuesday morning, and he’d spent the next thirteen hours working Max for intel until he hit the jackpot. Emily was going to be at some mutual friends’ party that weekend.
A party he’d had a swift change of heart about attending.
So he’d known he was going to see her.
He’d told himself it would be good. The closure he needed.
But seeing Emily step out onto Shannon and Mike’s rooftop hit him like a sucker punch and left him barely able to catch his breath.
Jesus, she looked good. Different from the last time he’d seen her. Even beneath the strung lanterns and burnt-orange evening light, he could see the sun showing across her cheeks and nose. Her shoulders too.
And that dress—black with some kind of big flower pattern, it tied behind her neck, fit around her waist, and then swung loose just to her knees—gorgeous.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
“Ahh shit, Jase,” Brody said,
his arm thrown around a pretty blond he hadn’t come with, their fingers tangled at her shoulder. “At least it looks like she’s alone.”
“Yeah.” That was a ledge he’d been talking himself off for nearly a month now. Because the idea of her not being alone—he couldn’t go there. Not yet.
Still standing by the exit door, Emily laughed at something Shannon said, that smile of hers making him ache in a way that actually felt better than the empty pit that had been growing in his gut these last weeks.
He loved that smile. He loved the way it made everything brighter.
And then it happened. Emily’s head turned as she was speaking. Their eyes met and her words stopped. And that smile he couldn’t get enough of slipped from her lips.
It was like the lights went out in the city.
Like someone pulled the plug in his chest, and everything warm and good that had been filling it up drained out.
“Got a plan?”
Jase glanced back and realized Brody’s blond was gone.
How long had he been staring?
“I mean, we’re here. And you’ve seen her.” Brody scratched at what had to be at least three-day-old stubble and then shoved that wild mane back from his face. “You gonna try to get her back?”
Jase’s jaw hardened, and Brody nodded his head for Jase to follow. At the far end of the roof, a couple of metal washtubs were filled with melting ice, assorted beers, and other hard drinks. Jase grabbed a couple of bottles of Fat Tire and handed one to Brody, who pulled an opener from his back pocket and pried both caps off.
“So, what? You thinking about trying the friends thing again?”
Kicking at the gravel roof with his foot, Jase shook his head. “Tried that already.”
Brody’s mouth pulled into a frown. “Sort of a slippery slope there, huh?”
“That it is. I mean, okay, so lots of people become friends after they’d been something else first, but for me and Em”—he thought about the way she’d looked at him in the cab, the hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she told him he didn’t know her at all—“attraction was never the problem.”
May the Best Man Win Page 24