Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ever
Lark didn’t even wait for the door to fully close behind me.
“Oh my God,” she said, dragging the words out as she leaned her hip against the counter and crossed her arms. “I thought you were going to the party with Jesse.”
I paused mid-step, already feeling my face heat.
“And then,” she continued, eyes wide and entirely too amused, “you roll up on the back of Jude’s bike this morning like you just stepped out of some fantasy you’ve been having since high school.”
I dropped my purse behind the counter and pointed at her. “Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’ve already started. The register is ready, and the door is open. You and I are talking,” she shot back. “You don’t get to walk in here wearing a man’s shirt, looking like that, and expect me to just hand you an ice cream scoop and pretend nothing happened.”
I glanced down at myself like that would somehow help. It didn’t.
Because yeah, I was wearing Jude’s shirt, and I did look like I had just stepped out of something I didn’t fully understand yet. “Lark,” I warned.
She pushed off the counter and came closer, lowering her voice like we were about to share secrets instead of her about to interrogate me.
“What. Happened.”
I grabbed a clean rag and started wiping down a counter that was already spotless.
Avoidance.
Classic.
“Ever.”
“I went to the party with Jesse,” I started, keeping my eyes on the counter like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
“Obviously,” she said. “That part I understand.”
I blew out a breath. “And it was… fine. At first,” I said.
That was the easiest way to put it.
Because it had been fine.
Good, even.
Until it wasn’t.
“He was drinking,” I added.
Lark’s brows pulled together slightly. “Okay…”
“And then he just started getting… weird.”
“Weird how?” she asked.
I paused, because how did I even explain that? “Like… he wasn’t the same,” I said slowly. “The more he drank, the more… sharp and mean he got. Everything felt like it had an edge to it.”
Lark didn’t interrupt.
Didn’t joke.
She just watched me, which somehow made it harder.
“He told me to get him a beer,” I said finally. “Like, demanded I get him a beer.”
Her head snapped back. “He what?”
“Yeah,” I said, grimacing. “Like I was just supposed to… go do it because that was what he wanted.”
“Oh hell no,” she muttered.
I nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms now, mirroring her stance from earlier without even realizing it. “And then Jude showed up,” I said.
Lark’s eyes lit up again, but she held it in this time. “Of course he did,” she said, a little too calmly.
I shot her a look. “Not helping.”
She lifted her hands in surrender. “Continue.”
I huffed out a small laugh. “He told Jesse to get his own beer,” I said. “And then it just… escalated.”
I didn’t go into every detail.
Didn’t need to.
The look on Jesse’s face.
The way he said I was his.
The way everything shifted.
That wasn’t something I needed to replay word for word.
Not out loud.
Lark didn’t push for it either.
“He tried to take me home,” I said quietly. “Like it wasn’t even a question.”
“And you?” she asked.
“I was going to go,” I admitted. That part tasted worse coming out.
“Ever,” she said softly.
“I wasn’t thinking,” I added quickly. “I just… I wanted it to stop. The whole thing. I didn’t want to make a scene.”
“You didn’t,” she said.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Jude didn’t let me,” I continued.
Lark’s lips pressed together like she was trying not to smile. “Of course he didn’t.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not like that,” I said. “He just… stepped in. Like it wasn’t even a question for him either.”
“And then?” she prompted.
“Then Wrecker stepped in,” I said. “And Oliver. And Pipe.”
Her brows lifted slightly. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It got handled.”
That was one way to put it.
A very simple way.
Because what had actually happened felt a lot bigger than that.
Lark leaned against the counter again, studying me. “And Jesse?” she asked.
I shrugged. “He’s gone.”
“Good.” There wasn’t even hesitation in her voice. None. And for some reason, that made something in my chest loosen just a little more.
“He wasn’t who I thought he was,” I said quietly.
“No,” she agreed. “He wasn’t.”
We stood there for a second.
Just… letting that settle.
And then her eyes flicked to my shirt again.
Slow.
Deliberate.
“And then,” she said, the grin coming back full force. “You went home with Jude.”
I groaned and covered my face with my hands. “Lark.”
“You went home with Jude,” she repeated, louder this time.
“Will you keep your voice down?” I hissed.
“There is no one in here!” she shot back.
I peeked through my fingers.
She wasn’t wrong.
Still.
“Okay, yes,” I said finally, dropping my hands. “I went home with Jude. Or, to his room. The clubhouse pretty much is his home.”
Her mouth fell open in exaggerated shock. “I cannot believe I’m hearing this.”
“Can you not act like I just committed a crime?” I muttered.
“This is not a crime,” she said. “This is a moment.”
I let out a breath, shaking my head. “I don’t even know what it is,” I admitted.
That got her attention. The teasing softened. “Okay,” she said, stepping closer again. “Talk to me.”
I leaned back against the counter, staring up at the ceiling for a second before looking back at her. “It just… happened,” I said. “We were there, and then we weren’t, and then I was in his room, and now I’m here wearing his shirt, and I don’t know what that means.”
Lark watched me carefully. “Did it feel wrong?” she asked.
“No,” I said immediately.
Too fast. Too sure.
Her lips curved slightly. “Okay,” she said. “Did it feel right?”
I hesitated because that was a different question.
“Yeah,” I said finally. “It did. So good.”
Lark nodded slowly. “Then that’s your answer.”
“It’s not that simple,” I said.
“It kind of is,” she countered.
I shook my head. “No, it’s not. Because—” I stopped. Because what? Because it was Jude? Because I had spent years wanting him? Because this didn’t feel like something that should just fall into place overnight? “Because I don’t know if this is real,” I finished.
Lark’s expression softened. “Ever,” she said gently. “You were just in the middle of a disaster with a guy who turned out to be a complete asshole, and then someone who has always been in your life stepped in and showed you exactly who he is.”
I swallowed. “That doesn’t make it not real.” I looked down at my hands, twisting the rag between my fingers. “It feels too… sudden,” I said.
“Or,” she said, “it’s been building for a long time and you’re just now catching up to it.”
That hit.
Harder than I expected.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
I just hadn’t been ready to see it before.
“I don’t know what he’s thinking,” I admitted.
Lark snorted. “Please.”
“What?” I said.
“That man looks at you like he’s already decided something,” she said.
My stomach flipped. “That doesn’t make me feel better,” I muttered.
“It should,” she said.
I opened my mouth to argue and the bell over the door rang.
Then again.
Then again.
We both turned and three customers walked in.
Then two more right behind them.
Lark straightened immediately, clapping her hands once. “Showtime,” she said.
I nodded, grabbing scoops and moving behind the counter.
Conversation over for now because suddenly we were busy.
Orders started flying.
Chocolate cones.
Vanilla shakes.
Sundaes with extra toppings.
Kids pressing their faces to the glass.
Parents trying to keep up.
No time to think.
No time to spiral.
No time to figure out what the last twenty-four hours meant and maybe that was a good thing.
Because right now?
I didn’t have a single clue.