Changing Everything (Forgiving Lies #2.5)(20)

I sat down so I was facing him again and gave him a look. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Besides the fact that my wife is one of her best friends, and they both made me swear, and I don’t feel like sleeping on the couch? You should have seen it. I wanted to tell you a thousand times because I hated watching the way you crushed her with every girl you picked up, or dodged by using Paisley. But I kept telling myself if everyone else could see it in her, then surely her best friend would be able to see how much he was killing her.”

“Twist that knife a little more,” I whispered, and rubbed at my chest.

“Happy to. You’re f*cking dumb. You should have noticed how much she meant to you a long time ago, and you deserve to go through this pain for a few weeks when she went through it for years.”

I glared up at him. “Anything else?”

“Are you letting her go?”

“Fuck no. She’s mine,” I growled.

He stood with a smile on his face. “Then I guess I’m done here. See you tonight.”

September 20, 2013

Paisley

I ROLLED MY head to the side as Brett kissed my neck, and bit my lip when he nipped at the sensitive spot behind my ear.

“Are you hearing anything I’m saying?”

I shook my head at Kristen and smiled lazily. “Nope, what were . . . you . . . Kristen?” I took in her wide eyes and stiff posture, and turned to see what she was looking at.

My entire body froze, and feeling the way I’d stiffened, Brett stopped whispering in my ear and turned to look as well.

Eli was standing there across the table from us, his eyes glued to Brett and me.

Jason broke the awkward tension as he clapped Eli’s shoulder. “Sit down, glad you could make it.”

Eli didn’t sit, and Brett’s body seemed to get tighter and tighter. “Shit,” he whispered, and stood, extending his arm. “I’m Brett.” When Eli didn’t move or say anything, he continued, “You’re Eli. I’ve heard a lot about you from Paisley.”

Eli finally tore his eyes from me to look at him, but his expression was unreadable. Shaking Brett’s hand firmly, he raised an eyebrow. “Sorry to say I haven’t heard much about you.”

Brett smirked and cocked his head as he sat down. “Can’t imagine why,” he said dryly.

This wasn’t happening.

“This is awkward, we need pitchers!” Kristen called out, and looked around for a waitress.

When no one came to our table, and no one had said another word, Brett pressed his lips to my temple. “I’ll go.” I gripped his hand harder when he started to stand, and he bent close to my ear again. “Just try to talk. I’ll be back, love.”

Eli’s eyes never left mine, something I know Brett didn’t miss by the way his eyes lingered on the back of Eli’s head as he walked past him toward the bar.

“Pay,” Eli’s deep voice rumbled a minute after Brett walked away.

My chest burned, and my body was so tense I was positive I’d shatter if anyone touched me right now. But I ached for that voice. My eyes wanted to shut as it washed over me, and I knew goose bumps were covering my arms as a thousand different memories with Eli flashed through my mind.

“We need to talk,” he urged.

“Why didn’t you show up for her birthday?” Kristen bit out. “Or call?”

“Kristen,” Jason warned.

“I was in Texas. My sister was almost killed. Little bit of a family emergency.” Every word was clipped and sounded like it was coming from a robot. But it still got through to me.

Remembering his voice mail, my eyes widened. “Oh my God. Rachel? Is she okay?”

“She’s going to be fine.” Finally moving his eyes away from me, he glanced at Kristen for a few seconds. “I called Paisley that day.”

“He did?” she asked me.

I was back to trying to hold my rigid body together again now that Eli’s dark eyes were piercing into mine, but I somehow managed to nod. “He left a message, I didn’t know about it until after you were all gone . . . and it hadn’t explained anything other than he was in Texas because of Rachel.”

When Eli spoke again, his voice was devoid of emotion—but his eyes were telling me a hundred things. Things I couldn’t handle right now. “But that’s not why I want to talk to you,” he insisted.

I shook my head and tried to steady my shaking jaw. “I can’t talk to you about that,” I managed to whisper just as Brett came back.

After setting a pitcher down on the table, he put a glass of Guinness in front of Eli, and my eyes widened. I’d mentioned that in passing.

Looking at Brett, I wasn’t sure what I expected to find. Him smirking because he was trying to look better in front of me? Instead, his expression was solemn as he came to sit next to me.

His eyes darted to Eli once he was in his chair, and following his line of sight, my breath got caught in my throat to find him still intently watching me. Everything about Eli’s exterior screamed that he was ready to fight somebody—anybody. But his eyes were pleading with me to listen to him.

I couldn’t. I was sure if I did, I would want to believe him. I would forget about the years of heartache. I would do anything he asked me to.