A Love Letter to Whiskey
Page 32

By the time I’d dressed and finished my hair, my biggest concern had drifted to Ethan. He’d asked me to come over to their place for some last minute campaign preparations before the fire pit party that night and I was terrified of seeing him. I’d been set on telling him the truth about Jamie and me, but that was when I thought there was a Jamie and me. Now that there wasn’t, that I realized the mistake I’d made, I felt sick at the thought of losing Ethan, too.
I knew it made me a shitty person, I knew he deserved the truth and I deserved whatever resulted from that, but it didn’t make me feel any better about the idea of it. Still, I had made enough mistakes in the last day and a half, and after a night of agonizing, restless “sleep”, all I wanted was to do something right.
I had to tell him, and I had to be okay with whatever happened after I did.
I picked up lunch from the favorite taco place on campus and made my way to Ethan’s, planting the seed and watering it with every step I took.
It was just a mistake. It’s fine. Shit happens. Don’t make a big deal out of it.
I wasn’t sure if I truly believed it or if I was just slowly putting up a wall, brick by brick, hoping it was strong enough to keep me from my true feelings. But I kept repeating those words, those sentiments, laying the bricks and topping it all off with barbed wire.
I was fine.
By the time I used my spare key and pushed through the door of their apartment, I almost believed that.
“I brought tacos!” I announced, kicking the door closed behind me and holding up the two bags. I felt him in the room as soon as I entered, but I didn’t dare chance a look in his direction. I found Ethan instead, and my heart warmed at the sight of his smile.
“You didn’t.”
I nodded, setting everything in my arms down on the counter and waving hello to Shayla who was sitting crosslegged on the floor next to a stack of posters. “I did.”
He was there, in the corner, right next to where Shayla was tapping on her laptop as she sorted through materials, but I still didn’t look at him.
Ethan picked himself up from the floor and rushed over, wrapping me in his arms and greeting me with a long, slow, heated kiss. “Marry me,” he murmured against my lips and I giggled, guilt surging as he kissed lips that were still swollen from Whiskey. I pushed him back playfully before digging through the bags.
“I’ll get this all set up. Whatcha working on?”
“Just going through inventory, figuring out next week’s plan so we can have some fun and not think about this election tonight at the party.”
“Amen!” Shayla yelled and I chuckled.
I smiled, but it was weak, my stomach like a hive of bees as I stepped in closer to Ethan. “Do you have a second to talk? I… I need to tell you something.”
His brows turned in, hands finding my arms in a comforting embrace. “Is everything okay, babe?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said with a swallow. “I just, there’s just something we need to talk about.”
“Okay,” he said, eyes flickering between mine before he turned to glance over his shoulder at Shayla. “Would it be okay if we talked later tonight? We’re really trying to get all this done before the party. I mean, that is if you’re sure you’re okay and it can wait?”
He was still staring at me from the corner of the room. I felt his eyes burning craters into my skin as Ethan waited for my response.
“Yeah, sure. Yeah it can wait.” I forced another smile. “Go get back to it. I’ll make everyone a plate and then come help.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing my cheek once more before jogging back over to take a seat on the floor next to Shayla. They bent their heads together, pointing at something on her screen and talking numbers. It was then that I finally let my eyes drift to Jamie.
His face was stone, eyes intense as they bored into me from beneath his furrowed brows. I let my eyes fall to his mouth, lips set in a firm line, and then I swallowed and turned, reaching into the cabinet for plates.
What, he thought I was going to walk in here devastated? Crying and begging him to tell me why he never texted? Why he never called? He thought he had the upper hand, and maybe he did, but I was determined not to let that show.
It was just a mistake. It’s fine. Shit happens. Don’t make a big deal out of it.
I repeated the same thoughts, again and again, willing them to be true.
“What are you doing?”
I jumped a little at the boom of his voice, the plates rattling in my hands as I pulled them from the shelf.
“Making tacos. Want some?” I avoided his eyes, setting the plates on the counter before opening each styrofoam takeout box with the ingredients.
“Don’t play dumb, you’ve never been good at it.”
“Because you know me so well.”
“I do,” he said loudly, grabbing my wrist that had just been reaching for the taco shells. We both glanced up at Ethan and Shayla, but it was like we weren’t there at all. “I do fucking know you,” he said again, his voice lower. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“B,” he warned, and I tugged my wrist from his grip.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You’re fine,” he deadpanned.
I sighed, piling the first shell with grilled chicken before dropping it to a plate and facing Jamie. I set my face first, hoping like hell he wouldn’t see the way he’d hurt me. “Yep. Are you going to help me with these or not? Because otherwise you’re kind of in the way right now.”
Jamie let out a sharp laugh. “That’s fine, I don’t mind being in the way. Seems to be my favorite place to be actually.”
I narrowed my eyes at his insinuation.
“What’s gotten into you? Did I do something?”
“Why would you think that?” I brushed it off, still aiming for calm, unaffected.
He scoffed, crossing his arms before stepping closer. “Oh, I don’t know, less than thirty hours ago you were forcing my hand between your thighs and now you won’t even look at me? Yeah, maybe that.”
“Shhh!” I scolded, my eyes flicking to Ethan, who was oblivious, before snapping back to Jamie. He was standing so close, his words like flames that licked at my stomach. “Stop. It was a mistake.”
His head snapped back like my words had struck him. “A mistake.”