I glance over at Posey, and I can tell she wants to die. “I don’t, Stella. But I really don’t want to talk about this.”
“I can’t believe he did that to you. He acted like it was normal to sleep with a girl and call her beautiful and for it not to mean anything. I called him a jackass and even tried to hit him with my car for you.”
Posey covers her face, and I guess then Stella realizes I’m there. “Oh, are y’all together? Oh my God, you are. I’m so sorry, Posey. I wouldn’t have brought this up if I’d realized you’re on a date.”
Through her hands, she mutters, “It’s not a date. We’re just playing cards and drinking beer.”
Well, nice to know where I stand. Stella looks over at me and then back to Posey. “I’m real, real sorry.”
Posey just groans. “Really, it’s fine. I’m good, Stella.”
Stella reaches out, taking Posey’s wrist in her hands. “He’s a jackass.”
“He is, but can we not talk about this?” she practically begs, and it seems Stella gets the hint.
“Yeah, sorry. Okay, your next round is on me.”
Posey drops her hands. “Can I have a shot of vodka? Or three?”
“Yup.”
I look over at Posey and grin. “Can I get in on that?”
“Yeah, as long as we never speak of this again.”
I scoff. “Nope, I want the story.”
Once the shots are on the bar, Stella apologizes once more, but Posey is completely over her. We throw them back quickly, and she makes this sound that gets me harder than a frozen puck. I look over at her, wiping my mouth. “Can’t handle your vodka?”
“I can handle anything, thank you.” She wipes her mouth and exhales. “The story is—I made a jackass of myself and proclaimed my love for a guy who liked her and not me.”
“Ouch.”
“Oh, it was awful,” she groans, shaking her head. “We all grew up together, Aiden’s family and mine, so it was a tough pill to swallow, and I’ve been ignoring her.”
“For good reason.”
“Exactly,” she says as she picks up her hand. “Can I beat you real fast so we can eat and soak up this vodka?”
I shake my head. “Nope, ’cause I’m about to beat you.”
Her eyes flash with excitement. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
But she beats me.
She even does a little dance when she lays down her hand, beaming from ear to ear.
“I let you win,” I proclaim, and she laughs, her eyes dancing.
“You’re a liar.”
“Maybe,” I say, taking a huge bite of her nachos. “So, who was the guy?”
“But I already changed the subject. Why are we back here?”
I laugh. “Oh no. I want to know.”
She shakes her head, leaning back to as she crosses her legs. She reaches for her beer, taking a long pull before meeting my gaze. “Our billet boy for three years. I thought he felt something for me. He did not, but in all reality, I romanticized the situation.”
“Well, from what I gather, I sense it may have seemed like a relationship. I don’t think you can get the wrong idea based on what Stella said.”
She shrugs. “But he was sleeping with her, and I ignored that.”
I make a face. “Jesus, I can’t see you doing that.”
“I wanted so badly for him to be with me.”
“So, you allowed him to sleep with you and her?”
She makes a face, and then she dissolves in laughter. “No! Wait.” More laughter. “We weren’t having sex. We shared a bed. Like cuddled and shit. But he was fucking her.”
I laugh. “Okay, I didn’t see you as the type to share.”
She scoffs. “Not even kind of.”
She bites her lip as I take a pull of my beer. “My fiancée cheated on me.”
“What a cunt.”
I choke on my beer. “Right?”
“Or, no! A cum dumpster! My sister said that to me, and I about pissed myself,” she laughs, and I grin.
“That’s a good one.”
“Exactly. I don’t understand that. Why cheat? If you don’t like the other person anymore, leave.”
“Absolutely. We had no kids, so it made no sense why she kept hold of me. She was with him for six months before she dumped me, I think.”
“What the hell? People fucking suck.”
“They do.” I hold my beer out to her. She taps hers to mine, and we both take a long pull. The vodka is coursing through my body, and I’m feeling mighty talkative. “So why can’t you eat carbs?”
Her brows come together. “Huh?”
“Aiden said you couldn’t eat carbs at home.”
She nods, a smile pulling at her lips. “My mom thinks they give us cancer.”
I chuckle. “What? For real?”
“Yes, it’s awful, which is why I’m spending entirely too much time and money at this place. I need fries, nachos, and wine. I can’t survive on no carbs.”
“I hear that,” I say, nodding. “So, you live with your parents?”
“I do. Pathetic, huh? But I owe them money, so I’m paying them back. Though, I don’t see myself moving out yet because we’re about to be traveling a lot. It wouldn’t make sense to get a place to pay for and not live in.”