The Boy Who Has No Belief - Victoria Quinn Page 0,68
am. And I’m gonna be fucking my wife every night like bow-chicka-wow-wow…”
I patted his back. “I’m sure you will, man.”
Brett came back with another drink for Ryan.
I raised my glass. “To Ryan, the asshole who’s probably only going to remember half of the shit about to go down…”
The rest of the guys raised their glasses and took a drink.
Ryan didn’t miss his mouth this time. “Yaaasssss!”
Kevin was there.
He looked the same as he used to, tall, fit, with the same light-colored hair styled in the same way. He made eye contact with me once, but we never looked at each other again. There were a few guys at the party, so I never really had to interact with him directly.
It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.
We had a good time, and Ryan had a good time, and that was all that really mattered.
Ryan eventually had so much to drink that we gave him water instead of vodka, and then he lay on one of the leather chairs to go to sleep. He pulled the bill of his hat over his face so he could cover his eyes and just lie there.
Brett pulled back his sleeve and looked at his watch. “Who had ten thirty?”
“I thought he’d make it until eleven, at least.” I sat beside him and smacked one of his shoes.
Ryan flipped me the bird, but he pointed at the wall because he was too drunk to have any sense of direction. Then he dropped his arm at a weird angle, like he’d fallen asleep instantly and couldn’t keep his eyes open.
Brett looked across the room then set his drink down. “I’ve been waiting for this woman to be alone all night.” He left the chair and smoothed out his shirt as he crossed the sea of people to where she stood alone at one of the tables, her friends all in the bathroom. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through it.
It was just Ryan and me in the seating area now because the guys were mingling with girls or other people they knew.
I stayed at his side to keep an eye on him so no one would rob him or do anything weird. Women made a few passes at me, but I told them to leave me alone. I wasn’t even nice about it because it was just obnoxious. I didn’t make eye contact with them, and I sure didn’t act like a single guy. I either looked at one of the guys or at my glass so it wouldn’t appear I was inviting anyone over.
Whatever. It was unavoidable, I guess.
Someone sat in the seat across from me, so I looked up, expecting to see a woman who’d decided to engage me in another pointless conversation.
But it was Kevin.
My blood immediately boiled when I realized he’d come to talk with me.
I couldn’t leave Ryan there by himself, so I couldn’t walk off.
So, I stared Kevin down, my look ice-fucking-cold.
He held my gaze for a while before he dropped it.
Leave.
But he lifted his gaze and looked at me again, wearing that same stupid guilty expression on his face that he had the night before my wedding, when I’d found out he’d been fucking my fiancée and had no intention of telling me about it. “Derek—”
“Walk. Away.” I set my glass down so my fist would be ready to punch him in the face if it came to that. I told Ryan I didn’t have a problem with Kevin being there, but I never said I would behave myself if he provoked me. “You’re here for Ryan. I’m here for Ryan. So, let’s go back to ignoring each other.”
Ryan continued to sleep beside me, obviously knocked out because he didn’t react to his two friends engaging in a very hostile interaction.
Kevin’s elbows rested on his knees, and his glass was in one hand. He bowed his head again and looked at it for a while, gathering his bearings, taking my rejection in silence. But instead of getting up and walking away, he lifted his head and looked at me again. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry—”
“Does it seem like I’m looking for an apology?”
He shut his mouth tightly, his jaw clenching just the way it used to when we were young. He’d been my best friend since first grade, and we’d stayed best friends all the way through undergrad. And then it all went to shit…because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Because he