bad. Even just the thought of getting back at Roman for being an absolute dick brightens my mood. I lean back in the chair, surveying everyone who’s sitting around the table from work, and warmth spreads through my chest, like a splash of ink spilling in water. It’s as if I’ve finally found my place here. Back in Long Beach, my friends were always Reid’s friends, before they were mine, and since the breakup, I haven’t heard from any of them. Because they were never really my friends; they were his. I was replaceable to them. I was just the girl they got along with because they had to. No doubt they’ve already warmed up to the next woman he’s seeing.
It’s always been that way for me. The previous friendships I’ve had were always lonely ones. I was never the best friend. I was always second choice, the friend who, somehow, always got left out, even when people didn’t mean to. A small part of me feels, as though, I never truly belonged with any group of friends I’ve had in the past. I’ve always felt like an outsider, doing my damnedest just to fit in and have people there in my life to fill that void inside me. I’ve had best friends, people I thought were going to be in my life forever, but, as usual, it never lasted. They always proved, one way or another, that they weren’t there for the long haul. Yet, sitting here at this table, in a crowded bar with co-workers, it doesn’t feel so lonely anymore.
Not even back home with my asshole neighbor feels lonely. Even fighting with him is more exciting than my entire life back in Long Beach. There was never any spark, any thrill in my life. I can’t even remember the last time I had butterflies, before moving here to Campbell. I sure as hell don’t remember the last time I’ve said so many curse words or felt so angry, all within less than two weeks.
Even though I try not to, my mind drifts to thoughts of Roman. I don’t know what it is about him that drives me crazy. I’m not usually a person who acts on her frustrations. I let things stew, then I tend to blow up, but here I am, purposely poking the beehive, just to rile him up. How crazy is it that I want to get him back? There’s a very large, wild part of me that wants him to have a reason to be angry with me, to be in my space. I’d like to say it’s because he’s easy on the eyes, but something else about Roman calls to me. He’s a magnetic force, drawing me in, even when he tries to push me away with his brash personality.
As if my thoughts conjured him, I hear a few gasps from our table, as the doors to the bar open and in walks the man who has taken too much space in my mind, as of late. He looks good. Too good. Dressed in a leather jacket, distressed jeans, and a plain tee, he walks in with a few other guys who are handsome in their own right, but they have nothing on him. Every woman’s eyes are glued to him, as he walks in, seemingly without a care in the world. My gaze narrows, my nostrils flaring, as I watch him head straight for the open stools on one end of the bar. And, of course, as fate would have it, he settles right next to Travis and Lucy, who, by the way, even look starstruck by his looks. She’s no longer fawning over Travis but over him now, too.
I want to roll my eyes at everyone’s admiration. It’s a bit hypocritical, considering I had much of the same reaction. Scratch that, I have the same reaction to him, each time we’re mere feet apart.
As if sensing my narrowed gaze, Roman twists on the barstool, and his gaze collides with mine. His expression shudders, and his eyes grow stormy. Gone is the cool, calm, and collected man who walked in, and in his place, is now a scowling, hot piece of work, who looks stiff as a board. We spend a long time glaring at each other, before I finally avert my eyes and turn around, with a growl and a hearty roll of my eyes. Kassandra notices and nudges me.
“What’s wrong? You look like someone just shit in your happy