I laugh. “Shut up. Aren’t you supposed to be taking your sister for dinner?”
“Yeah,” Tessa says over his shoulder. She sits next to him. “Do you know his idea of dinner is Mc-fucking-Donald’s?”
I chew the inside of my cheek and nod. “Um, yes.”
“Hey, y’all want me to buy you dinner all the time, you gotta take the cheap stuff.”
I stare at Tyler flatly. “Honey, we aren’t in Texas. Tuck your y’alls away and don’t bring them out again until you dress up as Woody from Toy Story for Halloween, okay?”
Dill laughs loudly. “Hell, I’m gonna miss you, girl.”
“Is this a Liv Love Fest? I want in!” Rosie cries, squeezing me tight.
“Holy…crap!” I squeak. “I’m only moving to a bar two blocks away. Y’all are acting like I’m moving to Australia.”
“Why the hell can you say y’all and I can’t?” Tyler demands.
“I’m American.” I shrug. “You’re British. Don’t be thinking you can come over here and start talking like one of us.” I grin.
The look in his eyes says that I’m going to pay for that.
I’m pretty sure the look in mine says that I’m going to enjoy every damn second of it.
The clock ticks to seven p.m., signaling the end of my final shift at the Stag, and I hug Rosie tight. We go through a round of, “I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you, too. Come see me, okay? Don’t forget me. We’ll meet for a drink.”
I’m almost certain we’ll never see each other again or get that drink. That’s the thing with moving on—you take almost nothing with you when you go. The only things you do take are the things that really matter. And more often than not, that doesn’t include people.
Tyler takes my hand and leads me from the bar with Tessa on my heels. We walk for a block in silence before coming to a small wine bar. Tyler’s phone rings just before we enter, and he waves for us to go in.
“What do you drink?” Tessa asks, leaning against the bar. Almost every guy in the place stares at her, but she’s oblivious.
“If it’s wine, I’ll drink it,” I answer honestly.
She beams and turns to the barman.
I wonder if she’s jaded by her husband cheating on her. I wonder if it’s destroyed her in any way… If she’s sworn off love or relationships. She doesn’t seem like it. She seems perfectly happy, like it wasn’t just weeks ago that she was calling Tyler to tell her what she’d seen.
What if I were her? What if it were Tyler cheating on me?
Oh, god.
I feel sick.
That wouldn’t happen. I know it wouldn’t.
I hope it wouldn’t.
Holy shit.
I’m actually going to vomit.
“Liv? Are you okay?” Tessa’s sharp accent brings me back to now.
I grab a glass and take a big mouthful of wine. “I am now.”
Note to self: never imagine that again.
I follow her to a table by the window. My heart pangs as I remember how Day and I used to do this all the time—once or twice a week at least. I almost feel like I’m cheating on her by sitting here with Tessa.
Holy heck. Fuck the glass. I need the bottle of wine.
“Are you okay?” Tessa asks.
“Fine.” I smile. “Fine. I guess I was wondering… Shit, this is awkward.”
Tessa laughs.
“You seem happier than I’d thought you’d be,” I blurt out.
Well, that’s one way to put it.
She laughs again. “Oh.” She shrugs a shoulder. “I can’t change my situation. I don’t want to be getting divorced less than a year since I walked down the aisle, but equally, I respect myself far too much to be in a marriage where I’m treated like I’m not worth the mat he wipes his shitty hunting boots on.”
“I get that. I just didn’t expect you to be so…bubbly.”
“Do you want the truth, Liv?” She twists her glass. “I don’t know if I ever loved him. Maybe I only thought I did. I’m certainly not heartbroken, and I’m not numb. I just feel…indifferent. And sorry for the poor bitch he was fucking on my sofa.”
Well, that’s one way to put it.
“Either way,” she continues, “I’m taking his sorry, cheating ass to the dry cleaners and I’m going to wring it out until he’s got friction burns on his dick.”
I clap my hand over my mouth to prevent myself from spitting out my wine. Yep. The British are definitely not reserved. In the slightest.
Tyler enters the bar and takes the seat next to me. He rests his hand on my lower back and splays his fingers. His pinkie finger creeps beneath the hem of my lower shirt to my bare skin, and I fight a shiver.
“Okay?” Tessa asks him.
“Yep.” He nods once and grabs my wine glass.
I raise my eyebrows. He grins in response and tilts the glass for another mouthful.
“I suppose I should be polite and ask how the business is,” Tyler says.
Tessa snorts. “That’s dinner conversation.”
“And since you spent dinner bitching at me, I’m asking now.”
“McDonald’s isn’t dinner,” she says, repeating her words from earlier. “Never mind…” She launches into a description of how their parents’ restaurants and hotels are running in the UK.
I tune out after a few minutes. They continue their conversation regardless, both of them fully versed in something I know nothing about. I can pour a pint and mix a margarita like a pro, but I couldn’t tell you how to run a huge business.
Instead of listening to their words, I listen to them. I observe the way they are together, how they talk, their body language. It’s a conscious move. I know I’m doing it as much as I know I shouldn’t be.
Adding Tessa into the mix is dangerous. She brings out a protective side of Tyler that I haven’t truly experienced yet. He’s turned toward her as she talks, but his eyes flick over her shoulders now and then, warning off any man who so much as breathes in her direction. She only has part of his attention as he strives to keep her from anyone who could put her through pain.
And it’s endearing. They bitch like cat and dog, but they care about each other so obviously. I can see how much he loves her—she’s an extension of him, almost literally.
I’m also jealous.
It’s stupid. But I see the way his lips curve as they talk, the way his eyes smile when she makes him laugh, and I want it.