Chapter 25
I Don't Want To Be Your Friend
Eddie
Even with my back to the crowd, I feel the eyes on me. Some shoot me admiring glances, no doubt wondering who I am—and more importantly, who I’m with—while others peer down their noses at me, no doubt wondering how the fuck I scored an invitation to a shindig like this.
Trust me, folks, I’d rather be anywhere but here.
And I do mean anywhere.
Gazing down at my suit, I swipe away an imaginary piece of lint from my sleeve. I can’t believe I pulled this stupid thing out of my closet just to impress Kiki. What am I, sixteen?
She’s always seen me in jeans and boots, usually covered in sweat and whatever grime the day handed me, and although I know she appreciates the blue-collar side of me, I wanted her to see that I could clean up too, that I could meet her on her turf and walk right alongside her in this fancy world she used to know so well.
Because this—these people, their pedigrees, the glitz and glamour—was Kiki’s life up until a year ago. This is her arena, where she shines, where she feels most at home.
Me? I stick out like a sore thumb, even in a designer suit.
And I know it.
What does it matter anyway? Soon Kiki will be thousands of miles away, building a fabulous new life without me.
Why can’t I cut her loose? Why can’t my heart let her go? Why can’t I break whatever hold she has on me?
I take a long pull of my whiskey, wishing like hell it was a beer.
Kiki and I only dated for a couple of months. That’s it. This should be over and done with. Her memory should be long gone, not sitting front and center in my head like it owns the damn place.
Maybe it’s because we work together every day. It’s a constant reminder.
So when she goes to Los Angeles, the reminder goes with her.
The thing is, I get why she wants to leave Sparkwood. I’m not mad at her for wanting a new life, a fresh start away from all the degradation she deals with on the daily.
But I hoped she and I could build something together. Something that could withstand anything life threw our way.
Because there were so many moments over the last couple of months where I believed she felt it too.
It was the softness in her eyes when I talked about Theo, the tears brimming behind her lashes when I kept my distance, and the way she clung to me when I finally let her back in.
Turns out, there’s only one thing I know for certain about Kiki Wilder. She’ll fit right in in Hollywood, because she’s one hell of an actress.
Has to be, since I fall for her every damn time.
“Got a minute?”
You’d think storming off mid-conversation would be blatant enough for Kiki to take the hint that I needed some space, but apparently not.
I down what’s left in my glass and set it on the bar. “Forgive me, Kiki, but I don’t really want to discuss your upcoming move to Los Angeles right now. I’m sure you’re wildly excited, but it threw me for a loop, so just give me a day or two to let that settle.”
She slides her empty wine glass across the bar and asks the bartender for another. “His offer threw me, too. I figured I was getting fired.”
I finally look at her, meeting that dark gaze I love so much. “Why would you get fired? You’re doing an amazing job on this house.”
Kiki takes a decent swallow of her refill before releasing a sharp, caustic laugh. “As if that matters. It’s Sparkwood, Eddie. They hate me because they can. It’s allowed around these parts, remember?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I spot a few locals showing a little too much interest in our conversation. Fucking rubberneckers.
As always, the anger kicks in, at the hatred tossed so casually in Kiki’s direction. “Do I need to have a word with them?”
She rests her hand on my arm, giving it a small squeeze. “Thank you, but no. Nolan won’t let anyone step out of line, considering it is his party.”
“Right. My mistake.” Who needs me when you’ve got Nolan Montague?
I pull my arm out of her reach and grab the glass of whiskey before the bartender can even set it down, bringing it straight to my lips.
Keep them coming, man.
My fingers drum against the edge of the bar as I try to rein in the mess in my head. I don’t even know what I feel anymore—anger, jealousy, frustration, or some toxic mix of the three—and damned if I know who any of it’s aimed at.
Nolan Montague for dangling an offer too good to refuse?
Kiki for even considering it?
Or myself for believing what Kiki and I had meant more than it did.
“You shaved,” she murmurs, peering up at me through her dark lashes.
Damn her for looking so good. So innocent. Because I know what she’s capable of, a fact I sadly learned one heartbreak too late.
I skate a hand over my jaw. “Yep.”
“I’m glad.” She scrunches her nose. “I didn’t really like the beard, not that my preference played a role in it.”
I swirl the whiskey around my glass, knowing she’s the entire reason. “I knew you hated it.”
“I didn’t hate it, Eddie.”
Now we’re arguing semantics. Fantastic. “But you didn’t like it, so I shaved. There. You happy now? I admitted it.”
As if the woman needs more ammo. She’s well aware I’ve been gone for her since the beginning.
I release a slow breath and fix her with a pointed gaze. “Do you need something? Because I’m not really up for small talk right now.”
Okay, that was a bit more on the nose than I intended, but it’s true. I can’t keep pretending with Kiki. It’s too fucking painful.
“Yes.” Her answer comes firm and fast.
Then she plants her hands on her hips and shifts her weight, popping one hip out as she looks me up and down in a slow, deliberate, and completely unapologetic manner.
What the hell?
“Well…” She bites her lip, dragging her gaze back up to mine. “My plan was to tell you that you’re gorgeous, with or without the beard, but since you’re being kind of a turd to me… I’ll keep that fact to myself.”
Despite the tension hovering between us, I feel the corners of my mouth pull up. Hey, my ego needs a win. “Gorgeous, huh?”
She leans in, resting her elbow on the bar, her chin settling into her hand. “Absolutely. I’m pretty sure every woman in this place wants to jump you. But don’t worry, I’ll be your bodyguard.”
All of a sudden, the Kiki from the last couple of months is gone, replaced with the version I dated, the fun, witty, flirty as fuck woman that drove me wild in the best ways.
“I can’t blame them for wanting you,” she continues, idly tracing the rim of her wine glass. “Because you are gorgeous. Not that I’m telling you, though. So don’t get any ideas.”
Then she winks at me, barely containing the sexy smirk daring to break free on her mouth.
“What the hell is going on with you?” I ask. “What did you and Nolan smoke out there?”
“Nothing, actually.” Her arms fall back to her sides. “I just miss the version of me you brought out. I really miss her.”
“I miss her too.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
Damn it, Eddie. Way to play it anything but cool.
Clearing my throat, I pivot to sarcasm, because I can’t allow her words to mean anything. Not anymore. “So all of this is an act, then? I’m not actually good looking? You won’t fulfill your obligation as my bodyguard to fight off the supposed swarm of women coming for me?”
She snorts, taking another swallow of wine. “Trust me, you’re staggeringly stunning. I think you know that already.”
I lean on the bar as the warmth of the whiskey mixes with the warmth of her proximity, giving me one hell of a buzz. “But it’s so much nicer hearing it from you.”
Look, I hear my brain’s warning to be wary of Kiki, but I can’t pull the plug on this conversation, and it’s not because she’s singing my praises, although that doesn’t hurt.
It’s because I miss her. Miss all those moments we buried beneath hurt feelings and displaced trust.
Miss the feeling of her in my arms as I sank inside her warmth and finally felt fucking whole.
God, she felt so good. Better than anyone I’d known before her.
I scrub a hand over my jaw, desperate to shake the mental image loose.
Jesus, man. We are not going there. Doesn’t matter if she looks stunning and it’s been forever since you’ve felt her.
But that mental image seems content to brand itself into my brain and now, other body parts are threatening to awaken for playtime. Just perfect.
I straighten and stretch, as much to rid myself of the kinks that have taken up residence in my shoulders as to steer my brain onto a safer track.
Because if her sudden flirty nature is anything to go by, she would be on board with a spur of the moment tryst, but that would only further muddy the waters of our relationship. Friendship. Whatever the hell this is ship.
“Kiki, at this point, I don’t know if you’re drunk or I am, but thank you. I needed to hear that, because this is—”
“—terrible, horrible, the last place you want to be?”
Nail, meet head. “Pretty much.”
“I don’t want to be here either. Wish we could leave.”
A furrow creases my brow as my gaze sweeps the room again, taking in outfits that probably cost more than my monthly paycheck. “Yeah, but this is your world. I thought you’d be thrilled.”
She shifts beside me, leaning her elbows against the bar as she looks out over the crowd, but there’s no nostalgia in her expression. If anything, she looks bored. Detached.
“It was my world,” she says, rolling her eyes before turning back to her wine. “Now that I’m outside of it, I realize one very important fact.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t want any part of it again.”
“You don’t want your life back?” This is news to me.
“Well, sure, I want my life back.” She keeps her gaze on the bar, chewing on her lower lip for a moment before finally lifting her eyes to mine. “That’s actually what I want to talk to you about, since it involves you.”
My ears perk up at her words. Not entirely sure I want her to divulge the meaning behind them, but I can’t turn away now.
I lean in, my lips hovering close to her ear. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”