Out of the Ashes (The Game 5)

What I did know was that I was so starved for Tate that I was willing to fight with him if it put us in the same room. I’d take any type of contact. I’d transferred half our savings to him this morning; perhaps that would provoke some kind of reaction too.

Ivy, our main munch hostess, flitted around with printouts and a handful of servers to distribute our preordered brunch items, and it was yet another punch in the gut. Tate and I had always ordered food to share.

I wanted my fucking fries, goddammit. Tate had probably tried everything on the menu, while I always ordered the same thing, and then we had that big plate of fries between us.

I clenched my jaw and dropped my gaze to the table as I heard Tate’s laughter again.

What was so damn funny over there?

“He’s putting on an act, Kingsley.”

I threw KC a glance, then shook my head. “This was a mistake.” The urge to leave hit with a force I couldn’t ignore. The exit was so close. My knees started bouncing. Food was gonna be here any minute. I wasn’t hungry for shit. The sun irritated me. The weather had gotten colder this week, signaling the end of summer, but the canvas ceiling above us turned the terrace into a sauna.

I swallowed hard. A rushing sound invaded my brain, coming from my ears.

Tate laughed again.

“I gotta get outta here.” I stood up abruptly and couldn’t form another word. I stalked toward the exit and could almost taste freedom when Ivy called my name. Fuck. I gnashed my teeth and turned around.

She hurried over to me. “I don’t suppose you’re just going to the bathroom, Sir.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “I hate this. Is there anything I can do?”

I exhaled and deflated a bit. She was a sweetheart.

“I’ll be fine,” I replied. For good measure, I pulled her in for a hug—and I realized how much I needed it for myself. “I’ll see you next weekend.”

I’d promised to help her with a Halloween party she was putting together with a few other brats.

“You’ll see me before then,” she said firmly. She peered up at me. “I’m off on Thursday—I’ll stop by with Chinese and a shoulder you can cry on.”

That drew a chuckle from me. “It’s a date, sassafras.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead before I let her go. “See you then.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Tate Ridley

“You’ve barely touched your food,” Ella noted.

“I’m not hungry.” I drained my water instead and wondered if it was okay to leave yet.

I’d lost all steam the moment I’d seen Lee get out of here. I couldn’t pretend when he wasn’t around. It took every ounce of energy.

“I think I’m gonna take off, guys.” My body felt stuck, like I wanted to sit here and do nothing for hours, because I didn’t really have any place to go. Or, too many places to go but not the right one. I wasn’t going home. I didn’t have one anymore. I had a sweet friend with a studio apartment in the basement of his Georgetown home that he shared with his two Daddies.

Right now, I was supposed to be on my way home with Lee. Maybe we’d stop somewhere and pick up ingredients for dinner tonight. Maybe I’d drag him with me to the mall because I wanted to buy a new shirt. Maybe we’d catch an early movie. No matter what, I was supposed to be with him. It was all I fucking wanted.

Instead, I hugged my friends goodbye—I’d see some of them at the Halloween party next weekend—and then I made my way toward the exit.

I took the stairs down to ground level, where Lee’s old truck wasn’t waiting.

I’d loved watching him drive. He never lost his cool. In the worst traffic imaginable, he sat calmly, lost in thought, one arm resting on the rolled-down window, and if traffic stood still, he’d play absently with my fingers.

He used to say half jokingly that I’d introduced him to affection. And once I’d grabbed his hand, he hadn’t wanted to let go. Wherever we went together, he wanted to hold hands.

I blinked past my blurring vision and joined all the other DC pedestrians on the sidewalk instead, and I headed for the nearest Metro station.

On my way there, I inserted my earbuds and pushed play on my breakup playlist on my phone. Because I clung to the pain like a fucking loser. The pain meant it’d all been real, and I didn’t wanna let go. I didn’t wanna face a day when Lee wasn’t the most important part of it.

“Little by Little” by Patrick Droney hit the sweet spot of hurt. A song about forgetting your love little by little—and I had no doubt it would be me eventually. I didn’t believe in fairy tales. Lee and I were gonna forget each other, somehow. He’d find someone else. So would I. I’d be happy again.