CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WALKER
“You look like you could use this,” Wren says, setting the beer down in front of me at the standing table we’re occupying in the corner of the bar. I wasn’t expecting Flynn to want to come when I extended Sonya’s offer to join them at On The Bench, but Devon was very into the idea, which meant my best friend was also interested. For a moment, there was a small part of me that hoped they wouldn’t want to. Being around Sonya right now is hard.
She blurs my focus. I should be thinking about my friend and who I inevitably assume will become a staple in my life soon, but instead, I’m standing here staring at Sonya on the makeshift dance floor with her arms around a blond. He’s big and tall and would surely kick my ass in a fight, and he currently has Sonya wrapped around him.
She gave me a chance. I was her first choice, and like a fucking moron, I turned her down. It doesn’t matter that I took it back. I haven’t exactly given her a yes, either. I asked for time, and now I’m watching her light up for someone else. Regret seeps into my bones because instead of being honest with myself—I lied.
I want this. I want her.
I’m just scared shitless to admit it.
“Why do you look like you want to murder someone?” Wren asks, leaning into my side to follow my gaze. When it lands on Sonya and what I now realize is one of the university’s hockey players, the corner of her lips pull up. “You like her, don’t you?”
“She’s my friend.”
She hums. “You want to tell your face that? I don’t think it got the memo.”
I narrow my eyes at her, watching amusement flicker in her light green eyes. “You don’t know me well enough to know what my face is telling you.”
“I’m a sculptor, Walker. I study the human body,” she says, pointing at me. “And this is the face of someone who is very much not looking at that girl like she’s just your friend. You’re looking at her like she’s the fucking sun.”
“Because she is,” I say without meaning to, but it’s impossible to hide. Sonya has always been a bright light. The person who lights up the whole world, and I won’t hide the fact I know it. “She’s still my friend.”
Wren smiles. “If you say so, but a few months from now, when you two are madly in love? Just remember you could have had it sooner if you listened to me.”
“You’re kind of a know-it-all, you know that?”
Her smile only grows, tossing her straight espresso brown hair over her shoulder. “Not my fault I have correct opinions. You’re really not going to tell her how you feel?”
“Don’t bother with him, Wren. He’s a lost cause,” Flynn says, sliding up next to me. “He’s in complete and utter denial. It’s better to just let him crash and burn and figure it out on his own. It’s the only way he’ll learn.”
“ He ,” I say, looking down at her, “is right here.”
Flynn’s eyes brighten. “I know!”
Before I can say anything, Devon runs over with a drink in hand when the song switches from rock to an older pop song. “I love this song! Flynn, come dance with me.”
“Oh, I don’t—”
I cut her off by giving her a gentle shove in Devon’s direction, letting her feet do the rest of the work before grabbing my beer. “What’s scaring you?” Wren asks, pulling my attention.
“What are you talking about?”
“With Sonya,” she says. “There’s clearly something there, Walker. You can’t deny that, but you’re holding back. So, again…what’s scaring you? Is it the fear of her turning you down? Ruining the friendship? Because the way I see it, the worst thing that happens is she says no, and if it ruins your friendship, then you were never really friends to begin with.”
I swallow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She smiles, leaning into my side. “Really? Cause you’re staring again.”
I blink and pull my gaze off Sonya to look at Wren. “I’m not.”
She claps her hand on my back, tightening her hold on the beer in her free hand before stepping back from me. “ Right. I’ll leave you to your not staring, then.”
“Wren, I’m not—” But my efforts are pointless because she’s already walking away from me, leaving me to do exactly what she said. When I’m alone, I give up trying to ignore it and go back to openly staring at Sonya while trying to stomp down the jealousy brewing in my chest.
I’ve never felt this way before, but I’m learning it doesn’t matter when it comes to Sonya. She’s always on my mind. Even when I try to shake her, I can’t get rid of her.
She’s a heavy presence in my life, not one I’m particularly mad about. I don’t know what I’d do without her, and I don’t want to find out. Which is what has me so on edge, unable to pick one side over another. Saying no is the logical choice. If I deny us ever having something more, nothing changes. We can stay this Sonya and Walker, move past it, and just be us.
But even that seems to be harder to swallow. I want to say yes. And in saying yes, it means I’m opening us up to something we can’t just stuff away once we’re done and bored with it. Not that I think I’ll ever be bored, not with Sonya.
It doesn’t change the fact that standing here, watching her draped over someone else, has my stomach in tight knots. She isn't mine. I have no right to be jealous, and yet the idea of anyone touching her that isn’t me feels wrong. I’ve tied myself to her without meaning to, without even having my first real taste, and I know that means I should go home.
Being here, watching her, is just filling me with temptation. Temptation I have no willpower to fight against, but instead of doing the reasonable thing, I find myself heading towards her on the far side of the bar. Tucked up nice and tight to the tall blond.
The blood beneath my skin warms at the sight of the two of them.
“Hi, Cowboy.” Sonya smiles the moment I reach their table, and if I weren’t so fixated on her body, I probably wouldn’t notice how she scoots closer to him or that his hand slides lower on her back. “You remember Campbell? He lives next door with Dylan.”
I nod my head, biting down on my tongue to keep from telling him to get his hands off her. “I think so,” I say instead. “You play for the Mustangs, too, don’t you?”
“Yeah, left-wing.”
“Did you want to join us?” Sonya asks, pointing to the empty side of the booth. “Me and Campbell are just talking about my app.”
My brows pull together. “What app?”
“Oh! I didn’t tell you, did I? The university wants to do an app for a kind of one-stop shop for all the university teams, and my class gets to pitch our design and ideas for the player profile section. They’re going to pick one of us to be on the official development team, which is amazing, but we’re working with the hockey team for the prototypes,” she shares, her face lighting up with excitement and it frustrates me that I’m only finding out about this now. “Campbell and Dylan are my assigned players.”
“That’s incredible, Sunny,” I say, pushing aside my other feelings to bask in this joy with her. “You’re going to do something amazing.”
“Oh, I’m going to crush this! It helps that I get to be so hands-on.” Her hand moves under the table, and with it, so do my eyes, tracking it as it slides down Campbell’s leg.
Gritting my teeth, I blow out a breath. “I’m sure.”
“Everything okay, Cowboy? You seem tense,” she asks, her gaze traveling over my face, and when I meet her eyes, she smiles and it’s like the dam I’ve been holding in snaps. My eyes slide to Campbell, who is looking at her in a way I know is real, but the rivaling one on Sonya’s tells me exactly what this is.
She’s fucking with me.
“I’m great,” I say, stepping down from my stool. “You two have fun.”
Sonya’s eyes widen at my abruptness, her hand finally leaving Campbell’s leg. Relief fills my chest at the sight of her putting space between herself and him, but all it does is confirm what I already know.
She’s playing a game.
“Walker, wait,” she says, reaching for my arm before I can get too far. “Where are you going? I thought we were going to hang out?”
“You seem preoccupied.”
“Walker.”
“What?” I bite out harder than needed.
“Why are you mad right now?”
“I'm not mad,” I tell her, watching the flicker of emotion cross her face as she tries to choose her next play. Before she can, I lean down until my lips are just an inch from her ear. “I’m just not playing this game with you.”
“I’m not—”
“You’re trying to make me jealous.”
She wets her lips, drawing my attention to them, and my chest burns brightly for her. “Is it working?” she asks, tilting her chin up at me.
“You’ll have to try harder than that, Sunny,” I whisper, dropping my gaze to her lips again before looking up and putting an inch more space between us. “I don’t do well with being told what to do.”
“I’m not telling you what to do.”
“You’re forcing my hand.”
Her eyes soften. “I’m not forcing anything, Cowboy. You are allowed to make whatever decision you want to make,” she says, stepping back into me. Her hand lands on the center of my chest. My breath catches as she leans in a little further, her lips grazing my ear. “I just happen to know that decision is me—naked and yours to play with.”
When she falls back on her heel, there’s a smug look on her face. Turning her back to me, she heads in the opposite direction, giving me the perfect view of her ass as she walks away.