Chapter 32 #2
“Oh!” Instinctively I grip the pendant to tilt it up, “Thank you, it is very pretty. And um,” my eyes flick to Brad but he's not looking at me, “actually Brad got it for me. For Christmas.”
Jake turns his head to me, and his eyes snap down to the necklace. “I didn't quite notice it before,” he says, cupping his fingers around mine as I hold the charm. “It's very unique. Does it represent anything in particular?”
“The shape is the Serch Bythol, a Celtic knot made up of two trinity knots, and the gem in the middle is an amethyst. Lizzie's birthstone,” Brad replies, not taking his eyes off where my and Jake's hands hold the pendant hostage.
Jake finally releases my fingers. “And what exactly does this Serk Bittol symbolise?”
“We actually did a project on Celtic symbols in my Year 6 class last year,” Larissa offers, quietly. “The Serch Bythol is said to represent the joining of two souls. Or everlasting love,” her eyes are on her hands in her lap and her posture sags.
My eyes collide with Brad's because I didn't know that. Did he know when he bought it?
Brad clears his throat and takes a large gulp of his wine. “Yes, it's for our, uh, our everlasting love for Lizzie. That's why her birthstone is in the middle.”
That makes sense. But I also feel a bit disappointed when I shouldn't.
“I had no idea,” I admit softly, “it makes me love it even more. What a thoughtful gift, Brad. Thank you. Again.” I bite my tongue to stop myself from rambling the way I often do in uncomfortable situations.
Jake slams his glass down a little too hard, and the clang of the glass makes me jump. “So, Brad. Shari tells me your life aspiration is to open a beach bar.”
“That’s the dream, yes,” Brad’s tone is flat. Normally he’s so spirited when he’s asked about his bar, so I can’t figure out why he isn’t raving about it now.
“Aren’t you worried about how dead it’ll be outside of the peak season? Beaches aren’t exactly packed when it’s cold, you know.”
Brad forces a tight smile that barely curves his lips, but before he can say anything, Larissa chimes in to his defence.
“Oh, his bar dream is amazing! He's written up the most incredible business plan already and is working so hard to save up for it. He has so many ideas of how to get the locals to keep coming during the colder months,” she gushes. “Your dedication is one of the things I love most about you.”
“Right. Of course. His dedickation,” Jake murmurs as I glare at the side of his face. “And what about you, Larissa? Which school do you teach at?”
“I teach at Ivyfields Primary School, and this year I have the youngest class. They're so cute, and just soak up information like a sponge if you present it to them in the right way.”
“The right way being finger-painting and sandpit play?” he arches an eyebrow, and she shrinks in on herself.
“Jake,” I warn. “What the hell?”
“Apologies, Larissa. I meant it as a joke. An ice-breaker, if you will, but I fear it just came out as rude. Forgive me?”
“Yes, of course.”
Thankfully, the waitress returns with our meals at that point and tops up our wine glasses. The food is delicious and we fall into silence as we eat. It's a bit uncomfortable, but an improvement on the weirdly negative attitudes the guys have adopted, so I'll take it.
We eventually take up small talk again, and throughout dinner, Jake keeps taking every opportunity to touch me – holding my hand, playing with my fingers, cuffing the back of my neck, kissing my shoulder.
I love that he’s so open with his affection, but I feel Brad’s stare boring into me with every touch from Jake.
It makes me feel like Jake’s doing it all for show and that notion makes me uncomfortable.
Meanwhile, Larissa takes Jake's affection as a free pass to innocently PDA all over Brad in return. Hand on his thigh, head on his shoulder, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
I can't take much more of it from either side, so I blurt that I need the loo and practically run away. Just as I'm about to lock the door, it pushes open and Brad barges in. “What the fuck was that out there?”
“Brad! You can't be in here.”
“I don't give a fuck. What was that? You look like you're trying to crawl out of your skin every time he touches you. Is he hurting you? You promised me that he wasn't, but if anything, tonight makes me think otherwise.”
“No! Don't be so dramatic, there's nothing nefarious happening so you can calm down and go back to your little girlfriend and your happy little bubble of affection.”
He quirks an eyebrow and his demeanour immediately shifts. “That's an interesting way to phrase things. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound jealous.”
I scoff, “I’m not jealous, Braddington.”
He takes a step forward with a smirk, “Braddington. That's a new one.”
“Yeah, well,” I cross my arms under my breasts and his eyes drop to my chest. “It just came to me.”
He prowls forward another step, “I can completely appreciate how it feels.”
My eyes are on his lips but I have no idea what he's saying, “Huh?”
“The nickname just came to you. I get it. I'm always coming to you. You're the magnet and the rest of us are all just helpless chunks of metal. Drawn to you against our will.”
Another step forward and he licks his lower lip. I find myself mesmerised by the motion.
Wait, we're here on a double date. With other people.
I throw my hands up between us to stop him in his tracks. “Brad, no. What are we doing? We're on a double date. You have a girlfriend! You were just all over each other and now, what, you're looking for a quickie in the bathroom with your baby mama??”
“Do you really think that's why I'm in here? I followed you because you seemed upset and uncomfortable and I care about you! I needed to make sure you're ok, and that prick isn't hurting you! He seems like really bad news, Blaze.”
“Ugh, Brad, he’s not bad news! You’re just being overprotective, as usual. Look, I know there have been some tense moments, and bad jokes on his part, but he’s just working through some stuff. He’s a good guy.”
“Blaze, if a man shows you his true colours, don't ignore them. I want you to be happy, but I need you to be safe.”
“I’m fine, we're fine! Please, go back to the table. I still need to pee, and then I'll be right out.” He eyes me skeptically, but relents.
When I'm done, I take a moment to regroup and mentally prepare myself for the onslaught of happy couple on the other side of the table, as well as the over-eager advances from my own date.
But as I approach the table, I see that Jake and Brad seem to be squaring off to one another.
I rush the last few steps back to the table, “What is going on?
You're making a scene, everyone is staring!” I hiss.
Jake takes a deep breath and flexes his fists a few times before turning to me. “Did he follow you to the bathroom?”
I'm so caught off guard that I splutter my instant denial, “What?
No! Jake, where is this coming from? You've been acting kind of off all night and now you're accusing me of.
..of...I don't even know what!” I wave my hands around wildly, fully aware that I'm attracting even more attention from the tables around us but unable to stop myself because I'm not done.
“And what about poor Larissa? You're pointing fingers at me, at her boyfriend, how do you think that must make her feel?”
Larissa is still seated, staring at her plate. Her hair has fallen forward to curtain her face and I can't help but feel that it looks intentional. As if she's trying to protect herself from the awkward predicament we're now in.
“You're right, Amour,” Jake gathers my hands in his. “I’m sorry, I think it's just the nerves about us all getting along have taken over.” He blows out a breath and his shoulders drop, “I know that's not an excuse but...I am sorry.” He directs the last apology to the table.
The tension in Brad's jaw hasn't abated, but he forces himself to sit back in his chair. “I’m sorry, ladies. I didn't mean to make either of you uncomfortable.” He takes Larissa's hand and holds it in his lap.
Larissa looks so lost, her gaze ping-ponging between the two men. My appetite is gone and honestly, I just want the night to be over at this point. “Are you alright?” I ask her quietly, and she just nods with a wobbly smile.
The waitress comes back to clear our dishes and asks if we want to look at the dessert menus, but I just cannot stomach another hour of this tension, so I make my excuses.
“Ah, thanks, but no dessert for me. Dinner was plenty filling and I'm actually feeling really tired. Would you all mind if we just paid the bill so we can head home?”
Everyone seems relieved at the suggestion, so as soon as the bill is paid we head out to the street. Brad grabs my hand to hold me back a few steps and murmurs, “Do you want us to drop you home?”
This guy. “You're sweet Bradminton, but I'm good. I'll call you in the morning and we can go get our girl from Jaime's together if you want?” His eyes immediately soften at the mention of Lizzie, and with a hummed assent, he hugs me goodnight.
Larissa gives me a soft hug, but there's a look in her eye. I can't put my finger on it, but she almost looks...sad.
“Is everything ok?”
She clears her throat, “Yeah, of course. I really like you, Shari. You deserve happiness.”
That was not what I was expecting her to say and now I feel like even more of an asshole for being jealous over her boyfriend.
Stupid, stupid emotions. “I really like you, too.
I couldn't have picked a better girlfriend for my baby daddy.” I nudge her shoulder with mine, but instead of making her smile, it seems to make her even more somber.
When I turn to Jake, his expression is unreadable. “Are you ready to go home?”
The smile that crawls over his face is positively lascivious, “Yes, my Shari Amour. I'm more than ready.”