Submitting in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 3) - Page 75

I glare at him. “You’re being a real jerk tonight.”

“Yeah, well, I’m in a bad mood, and my favorite waitress is yelling at me. How ‘bout you bring me a drink and see if it makes me happier?”

I roll my eyes at him, but I head back to the bar to get him a drink anyway.

23

Virginia

I take my time getting Rafe his drink. I don’t even make it right away; I help Lucinda first, since she’s overrun at the bar with a bachelorette party we didn’t know was coming. I make drinks for the bevy of smiling girls and serve them first, then I make Rafe’s drink.

Jerk. He can wait for his damn drink.

I still have an attitude as I make my way back to his booth, but then his words play back in my mind—not all the jerky words, but him saying he’s in a bad mood. There’s nothing I hate more than Rafe being in a bad mood. The few times he has been in one when he stopped by the restaurant, I caught his bad mood like a cold and took it home with me.

Is his bad mood because we broke up? Or is it something else? I don’t know, and by the time I make it to his table, I’m curious. Damn my heart.

Rafe doesn’t look up as I slide his drink across the table, so I drop into the seat next to him and scoot in. That catches his attention.

“Why are you in a bad mood?” I ask, despite myself.

Cocking an eyebrow, he says, “Bad break-up. Want to bring me some cheesecake?”

I roll my eyes. “No. I’d like to put on sharp heels and stomp on your foot. You’re the one who dumped me.”

“I’m still allowed to be sad,” he states.

His words stab me right in the heart. He says it casually, but the idea of Rafe sad—and the accompanying mental image of him lying on the floor of his sex room, coked up with a crackwhore—closes around my throat like a fist.

“I don’t want you to be sad,” I tell him, softly.

“It’ll pass,” he assures me, smiling faintly.

This is a weird time to be his friend. I’m partially insulted at the idea of sadness over losing me being a “passing” thing, but also I don’t want him to be sad. I’m rooting for him and for me, but we’re on opposite sides this time.

Well, maybe we’re not. I guess we can both be on the same side—the si

de of both of us ending up happy, even if that doesn’t mean us being together. I am sad that it didn’t work out, but it was a long shot, anyway. From the standpoint of my ego—and also how much he means to me—I don’t want to be easy to get over. It’s flattering and a little vindicating to think I meant something to him, too.

I’m not ruled by my ego, though, and putting that away, I don’t want Rafe to be sad. I want him to be happy. I want his handsome smile and light-hearted jokes. I can still love him forever, even if he’ll never really be mine. At least I’ll have my memories. They may be torture sometimes, but other times it will be nice to pull out the best times and relive them.

I don’t want to be mad. I don’t want to stay hurt. I want to get back to having everything I’ve always valued with Rafe, and that means letting go of any bitterness and negativity, and embracing the positive. Embracing everything we still have.

“I’ll bring you cheesecake,” I tell him. “Just promise me you won’t bring home any crackwhores. It would be super weird if I had to clear one out of your house now.”

Rafe cracks a smile. “No crackwhores, I promise.”

“None of that stuff,” I add, more firmly. “Nothing like the Cassandra break-up. That was bad. Please don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t do anything stupid,” he assures me. “I’m being an adult this time. I’m here, aren’t I? I’m sober. Want to check my pupils? I’m just not in a great mood, that’s all.”

I nod my head. “All right.”

I don’t know exactly how to say what I want to say. I don’t know exactly how to tell him that even though we muddied the waters, the mud will eventually settle once we’re not stomping in it anymore, and the water will be clear again. That if he needs me, even now, even if I’m the one he’s getting over, I’m here. I don’t even know how that would work, but I don’t care. I just want him to know he can turn to me, if he needs to. I want him to know nothing has been ruined just because we took a chance on something that didn’t pan out.

All I can think to say is, “I’ll still always take care of you, you know.”

Rafe looks over at me and our eyes lock. “Yeah?”

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