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Her eyes were glossy as she stared at me. I reached out toward her, and she raised her hands as she shook her head.
“I don’t think that’s fair, though,” I whispered, and she tilted her head as she looked me up and down. Matthew moved uncomfortably on the couch as he tried to gesture with his hands for us to calm us down.
The room was thick with tension, and Marie began laughing as she walked around the room. “What isn’t fair, Brooke? That you’re being called out on your nonsense, and you’re not willing to take accountability for it?”
“No, I’m able to take accountability. What I don’t get is why you’re angry at me for wanting to make my life better somewhere else than in Chicago? I never had anything good come out of this place!”
“Don’t do that,” she warned as she raised her finger and pointed at me.
“Everything I’ve ever loved, I’ve lost. Do you know how shitty that is? To always lose out and feel like it’s your fault? Of course not! You grew up shielded, and whatever you wanted, you’d always get. Your parents are still alive, you’re stable in your life, and you’re in a happy relationship. I’m happy for you!”
I took a deep breath in as the tears rolled down my cheeks, and she was crying, as well. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “But for fuck’s sake, Marie, I’m traumatized by my own fucking life!”
“Guys,” Matthew spoke softly as he got up, and I roughly wiped my tears away. “Maybe we should all sit down?”
He reached for the both of us, and I shook my head.
“I’m going out. I’ll be out of your apartment by tomorrow,” I whispered as I grabbed my phone from the coffee table and passed by Marie, who silently cried.
“Brooke,” Matthew called for me, but I was already out of her apartment.
What the fuck was that?
I sat in the warm, lit, almost-empty bar and stared at my whiskey. I don’t drink whiskey. I watched the ice blocks closely as they diluted the bitter drink and wondered whether I should just order something else or swallow the brown drink.
My phone was upside down on the counter, and I heard the murmurs around me, and even though it felt like they were talking about me, I knew that was just my own guilt and anxiety tricking me.
“What are you doing here on a Sunday evening, pretty girl?” His expensive Arabian wood scent filled my lungs, and I smiled as I looked up at him. He sat down beside me on the bar stool and smiled, flashing his pearly white teeth.
If there was anyone who screamed old money, it was definitely him.
“And what are you doing here, player boy?” I leaned my head against my hand as I turned slightly to face him. Jax was dressed in a suit. The first few buttons of his white dress shirt were unbuttoned, his slacks fit him perfectly, and I was pretty sure his shoes had a red bottom.
Definitely an old-money kid.
“Just finished up on a date and thought I’d come get a drink.” He flagged down the bartender, and I squinted my eyes.
“Was it with Diamond?”
“Nah, Diamond and I are over,” he said, and my eyes widened.
“Wasn’t she the girl you begged us to have a double date with?” I asked him, and he clicked his tongue, ordering his drink, and the bartender walked away. Jax drummed his fingers against the mahogany wood and shook his head.
“Nope, that was Jada,” he grinned, and I laughed lightly as I sat up straight.
“So, who did you go on a date with? Do you even remember her name?” I teased, and he chuckled as he rolled his eyes.
“Of course, Brooke. I’m a gentleman.” He gestured to his body with his hands as if his appearance was what made him a gentleman. “And her name was Christelle.”
“Does she know it was only a one-time date?”
“Remind me to text her before I leave.”
“You’re an asshole,” I laughed as I shook my head and touched my glass. The ice was almost fully through with melting, but the drink still looked bitter.
“Why are you nursing your drink?”
“I don’t drink whiskey,” I whispered. “I wanted to look cool when I ordered it,” I admitted, and he hummed.
