be preoccupied for the rest of the night, so instead, I generally blew him off. It was easier that way. The last thing I wanted to be was the cock-blocking best friend.
“Hey, you know what? I forgot that I had something to do.”
Gavin looked down his nose at me. “You’re a horrible liar, Pres. I’m good. That girl’ll be there for a while.”
Ignoring him, I pushed back my chair, downed what was left of my beer, and got to my feet. “I thought I’d come hang out with you next Saturday.”
“While I work?” His eyes lit up as though that was the best news he’d heard all week.
“Yep.” I grabbed my hoodie from the back of my chair, then patted him on the top of the head. “I’ll see you at home later?”
“Yeah.” Gavin grinned up at me. Before I made it two steps away, Gavin gently grabbed my wrist, turning me back to him. “Hey, I meant to tell you, Adrian’s back in town in a couple of weeks. Thought maybe the three of us could go out one night. Have some beers.”
Adrian. Gavin’s older brother. The man I had absolutely no desire to see ever again. I should’ve told Gavin no; instead, I smiled and said, “Yeah, sure.”
I was such a fucking pussy.
Chapter Eleven
Jake
Sunday afternoon
“So, was it everything you’d thought it would be?” I asked Abby as we walked out of the movie theater to my car. It had started to drizzle and the temperature seemed to be dropping, so we hurried across the parking lot, and I hit the button to remotely start the car.
Abby shrugged. “It wasn’t the worst movie I’ve ever seen.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “When people say that about my books, it means they didn’t particularly care for it. In fact, one reviewer said that, then followed it up by saying they would’ve rather read a book on how to make glass.”
“Hey, making glass is interesting,” Abby noted.
I stared down at her when we stopped at my car. “Really?”
“No.”
I frowned; she laughed.
She continued to smile as she said, “Let’s just say, I don’t plan to see it again.”
“I’m with you there,” I told her, opening the car door for her, then closing it when she was inside. I made my way around the car, then hopped in and turned up the heat. “Pizza?”
“Yes,” she said excitedly. “I’m starving.”
“Me, too.”
“I don’t know how you can be hungry,” Abby said with a chuckle. “You ate all the popcorn.”
“I did not. Last I recall, that bucket was in your lap.”
“Yes, because I had to steal it from you so I’d get a little bit.”
“Not buying it,” I teased, pulling out of the parking space and heading toward the pizza place Abby liked.
Neither of us said much on the drive over, and after I paid for the pizza buffet and we filled our plates high and grabbed sodas, we secured a booth near the front, away from all the kids hanging out by the arcade games.
For a few minutes, I let her eat in silence while I looked around at all the people. Little kids were running around unsupervised, older kids were laughing and joking while they played the arcade games, a couple of people were trying their hand at the machine with the big claw used to grab stuffed animals that were too heavy for it to lift. And the people behind the counter were yelling pleasantries to customers coming and going from the restaurant.
I had absolutely no idea why Abby liked this place. It was like a pizza joint on crack.
When it became apparent she had no intention of chatting with me, I decided to kick off a conversation. “So, how’re things at school?”
Abby’s green eyes lifted to meet mine. “Better.”
“Than…?”
“Better than last year,” she said, shoving pizza in her mouth, probably in an effort to avoid my questions.
Abby was a sophomore this year, so I figured that was a large part of why things were better. Freshman year of high school sucked; didn’t matter who you were. New school, older kids, teachers who were hanging by a thread of sanity… It was no wonder it’d been so rough for her last year.
“And your grades?”
Abby rolled her eyes and smiled. “All As, as usual.”
That didn’t surprise me. Although she’d had a rough time, Abby had never let her grades slip, not even when she’d transferred schools in the middle of the school year.