Full Package(57)

I swallow, trying to play it cool. “Aren’t we allowed to talk about that? We did before.”

She nods.

“So, that’s a yes? You’re dating?” Jealousy flares in me like wildfire, a hot, raging beast.

She narrows her eyes. “I was acknowledging we used to talk about dating,” she says, clearly affronted by my questions. “What about you? Are you dating?”

I huff, then scoff for good measure. “No. Hell no.”

“Then why would I be?” she asks, holding her hands out wide in a question.

“You wanted to before,” I point out.

“Things changed.” She bites out each word.

Yeah, “things” as in everything.

She takes a deep breath as if she’s calming herself down. “Okay, let’s start over.” She smiles cheerily at me. “How’s work?”

We talk about work, and only work, like everything else is off the table. Maybe it should be. When it’s time to leave, we walk out together and stand awkwardly on the sidewalk, rocking on our heels.

“Chase?”

My heart beats faster from the way she says my name. “Yeah?” I ask like that one word contains all the hope in my universe.

She smiles wistfully. “I miss you.”

The hope dissipates. I wanted more than missing. But I answer her truthfully. “I miss you, too.”

“We should do this again,” she says.

“Absolutely.”

Because we’re friends and this is what we wanted. This is what we planned for.

She drops a quick kiss to my cheek before she walks away.

I’m not sure if I like our new normal any more than I liked being without her.





34





On Thursday night, Max and I head to the newest Lucky Spot. Business has been booming for Spencer and Charlotte, and they just expanded their bar in the heart of Chelsea, adding on a Ping-Pong table room. On Monday and Wednesday nights, the bar hosts leagues for the sport, and Thursday is a themed night featuring Ping-Pong and champagne.

Wyatt and Natalie called everyone together for a post-wedding evening out. I’m not sure if it’s their third or fourth wedding to each other, or just another excuse for them to celebrate being married. The two of them like doing that, and so the gang’s all here.

That also means this is the first time Josie and I have hung out with the whole group of friends since the end of our short-lived stretch as roommates and an even briefer stint as lovers. But no one else knows about the latter except Max.

As we walk along Eighteenth Street, I remind him. “Keep it on the down-low in front of everyone, okay?”

He stage-whispers, “You mean about you having a big thing for Josie Hammer?”

“Yes,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Got it. Because no one else could ever fucking tell.” He yanks open the door to the bar, and we stroll inside, joining the crew in the Ping-Pong room.

Instantly, my eyes find her. Josie rests her hip against the green Ping-Pong table. She wears a red skirt, and little ankle boots that would look fantastic parked on my shoulders. Wrapped around my neck. Hooked around my waist.

I drag a hand through my hair and fix on a friendly smile, lest anyone catch on that I was cycling through my favorite positions.

Josie holds a glass of champagne as she chats with Natalie. The two of them watch Harper as she bounces on her toes at one end of the table, a paddle in her hand. From the other end, Nick serves the white plastic ball, and the two volley for the next minute. Nick is ferociously focused, slamming the ball back at her each time, but then Harper delivers a punishing blow to the right corner, and when Nick stretches to reach it, the ball rattles to the floor.

Harper thrusts her arms in the air. “The streak continues!”

Josie holds her flute high, toasting Harper’s victory. Natalie hoots and hollers.

A new couple strolls through the doorway and into the Ping-Pong room—she’s a petite blonde with wavy, honey-colored hair, and the guy towers over her, a tall and broad dude. The woman chimes in, “Nick, you can never beat her. Don’t you know that by now?”

Nick pushes his glasses up his nose and shrugs. “But I can’t stop trying, Abby.”

“Better luck next time,” the new guy says with a smile.

Harper steps in and introduces me to her friends Simon and Abby. After we all shake hands, Simon drapes an arm around Abby’s shoulders and plants a kiss on her cheek, for no obvious reason other than he can. Lucky fucker.

As I peer around, I see nothing but couples. Natalie and Wyatt, Spencer and Charlotte, Nick and Harper, Simon and Abby. It’s just the Summers brothers who are single, and Josie. The thing is, Max is happy with his status, as far as I can tell. In principle, I don’t object to mine. I was never bothered being a one-man operation. Until I fell for Josie.

Now, seeing all these paired-up friends reminds me that I’m the one of us who didn’t get the woman he wanted.

Wyatt drops a hand to my shoulder. “Ready to be decimated?” he asks as he hands me a paddle.

“I am ready,” I say confidently, taking a deliberate beat, “to obliterate you.”

He arches a brow, like I can’t possibly be serious. But I am, because bar games and me are a winning combination. Tonight, the game has a welcome side effect. Beating Wyatt’s sorry ass keeps me from staring at his sister all night.