Rebound Envy (Rebound #2) (6 page)

The surprise is back on Adam's face. This is the most pleasant he's been to me since before Jenna's engagement party. "Me?" The nice guy façade crumbles and one corner of his mouth turns up, a combination of grin and sneer that makes his attractive face almost ugly. "What's wrong? The beauty queen not doing it for you anymore?"

My hands clench into fists where they rest on the bar top and my teeth grind together. I take a deep breath and try to force myself to relax. "Don't call him that. His name is Scott. It's not a hard name to remember and you're not stupid, so just quit already."

That look on his face doesn't budge. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can I cut him off, pointing a finger at his face. "You want to know what's wrong? You. This. Your attitude is what's wrong."
 

He takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring. Still, I don't let him speak. "You've been treating me like shit since Jenna and Brian got engaged. It ends now. I know you can be nice. You were nothing but charming to me when we first met. You're always unfailingly polite to customers. Except me.
 

"Jenna and Brian are getting married in less than three months. I know you're Brian's best man, and you have to know I'm the maid of honor. We're going to be bumping into each other off and on for the next few months, and you're going to have to escort me back down the aisle at the wedding. So whatever this is that you've got going on, it needs to stop. I'm sick of it, and I'm not going to let you ruin our best friends' wedding because you're too busy being an asshole to get over yourself. If you can't be nice to me for my own sake, do it for Brian and Jenna's."

The scorn written on his face has fallen away during my little tirade. I slide off the bar stool and reach for my purse where I had set it on the bar. His voice interrupts me. "Amy, wait." He looks over my shoulder and mutters a curse under his breath. "Shit. Just wait a minute. Let me help these people and then we'll talk." I hesitate, unsure if I want to even hear what he has to say at this point. "Please, Amy? Just a few minutes."

I sigh, defeated, and sit back down. He gives me a tight smile, and then his polite mask that he uses for customers slides back in place before he turns to the group of five people that have just walked in.

They take their sweet time deciding what they want, tasting a few samples before finally ordering and taking their glasses over to a grouping of two couches and an armchair surrounding a rectangular coffee table. The whole time he was helping them, Adam's eyes kept darting in my direction like he was checking that I was still there, waiting.

When he's done, he comes back over to me. "Would you like a glass of something?" He picks up a wine glass and starts to reach for a bottle behind the bar. I shake my head, but he's looking down and doesn't notice.

"No." My voice sounds croaky so I try again. "No." Good, that time was more firm. Adam stops, glass and bottle in hand, about to pour, looking at me. I stand again. "I need to go. I just need you to stop acting like …" I trail off, not sure how to end that sentence. "Jealous little shit" is the phrase that comes to mind, but I'm trying to smooth things over between us. Being antagonistic doesn't seem like the best idea. "Well, like you've been acting lately." I can't help but get in one little thing, though. "You decided not to see me anymore, Adam. Remember? You don't get to give me shit about seeing someone new."

I straighten my jacket and pick up my purse, looping it over my shoulder. Adam puts down the bottle and glass and runs his hands through his hair. God, he has great hair. I loved running my fingers through it the couple times I got to. But that's long over now. He doesn't want me, so I'm moving on.
 

I look up at him, and open my mouth to say goodbye, but he doesn't let me talk this time. "I'm sorry, Amy." He runs his hands through his hair again, looking around. I'm suddenly aware that people are watching us. Listening. Shit.
 

Brian comes out from the back room, approaching us, his eyes flickering over me and then back to Adam. "What's going on, guys?" He's keeping his voice low. "I know it's a slow time of day, but there are customers. Can you guys take this in back? I'll cover out here."

Adam gives him a short nod and turns to me. "Amy?"

I shake my head and take a step back. "No. I said what I came to say. I don't think we need to talk about it more than that. Bye, guys. I'll see you around."

Before anyone can stop me or say anything, I pivot on my heel and head for the door. I hear Adam's voice behind me calling my name, but Brian stops him. "Let her go. Try again later."

Smart man. Brian and I have gotten to know each other pretty well since he's been dating Jenna. He's wrong about one thing, though. There won't be an option to try again later. The less I have to talk to Adam, the better, as far as I'm concerned.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jenna rubs her hands together in glee before opening the pizza box on the coffee table.

"I wonder how many times we'll get to do this again." My voice sounds a little maudlin even to my own ears. I'd blame it on the wine, except that I've only had a couple sips. Our evening is just starting.

Jenna glares at me before turning back to the pizza and selecting a slice covered in extra cheese and double pepperoni. "What are you talking about?"

I snag my own slice of pizza, taking a bite and chewing for a moment before answering. I gesture at the pizza and wine that is taking over the coffee table in Brian and Jenna's house. "This. Our pizza and ice cream fests. It's already a little different—we're drinking wine instead of Mike's. Things are changing. Your life is changing."

Jenna sits back on the oversized couch, propping herself against the armrest so she can face me. "True. Things are changing." Her voice is thoughtful and she frowns a little while she chews her next bite. "But I can't see us ever giving this up entirely. Why would we?"

I shrug, sitting back now, too. "You don't live alone anymore."

"Amy, we did this the whole time Tom and I were together. I didn't live alone then, either."

I look down, picking at the pepperoni and popping it into my mouth, enjoying the spicy bursts of flavor on my tongue. "I know. But it's different with Brian, somehow." I shrug, still not making eye contact. "I just feel like we're not as close as we used to be, y'know?"

Jenna sets her plate down on the coffee table, sliding over to me. "I know. We spent a lot of time together after Tom died. And now I'm with Brian, so we don't see each other quite as often. But once the wedding's over and we're back from our honeymoon, things will calm down and we can hang out more."

I snort at that. "Jenna, we spend a lot of time together now
because
of the wedding. I see you regularly to help you plan and organize it. Once that's gone there will be less of a reason for us to hang out. Not more."

"Yeah, but we'll be hanging out for fun, not to go shopping for expensive dresses neither of us will ever wear again. Or hand address two hundred thirty-seven invitations. Besides, you're with Scott now, right? That's got to be keeping you occupied to some extent." She places a slight emphasis on the word "occupied" and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

I laugh out loud at that. "Jenna, you used to be such a prude when it came to talking about sex. I had to drag details about Brian out of you, and now you're making innuendos about my relationship. You crack me up."

She tips her chin up, her mouth pursed in a prim expression, nose in the air. "I don't know what you're talking about." The façade cracks, and she lets out a giant smile. "Seriously, though. You've been majorly holding out on me and I've let it go for quite a while now. How are things with Scott? You seemed to be getting along fine when we went out together last weekend. He touches you a lot."

She's right. Scott does touch me a lot. He holds my hand or places his hand on the small of my back when we're walking or standing. When we're sitting, he usually has his arm along the back of my chair or his thigh pressed against mine. He kisses me hello and goodbye and frequently in between.

I sigh, thinking about our relationship. Jenna quirks an eyebrow at me, but doesn't say anything. "He does touch me a lot. Just—not the way I want him to." I can feel heat creeping up my cheeks at my admission, and I take a large swallow of wine to cover it.
 

Jenna's brows scrunch together. "You mean you still haven't had sex? But it's been—what? More than two months now, right?"

I nod, still feeling embarrassed. "Close enough. It'll be two months next week."

"What's he waiting for?"

"Wouldn't I like to know."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

I shake my head, my face heating again. "It's embarrassing. Every time I try to push things a little further after a date, he stops me. He doesn't say anything, and I don't want to seem all desperate and needy. It's confusing. I know he's attracted to me. Trust me, I've felt it. But he keeps holding back, which makes me think he doesn't want me."

Jenna's silent for a moment. "You need to talk to him about it. It's obviously bothering you."

I scrub my face with my hands before looking at her. "And say what? Why don't you want me? What's wrong with me that the last two guys I've dated haven't wanted me? One's acting like an asshole now and the other is super sweet, but still doesn't want me."

"Ah, yes. Adam. At least I'm assuming that's who the asshole is." She waits for my nod of confirmation before continuing. "So, what's going on there?"

I wrinkle my forehead in confusion. "What do you mean? Nothing's going on there. Nothing's ever gone on there."

"What happened last weekend when you got your wine? You seemed really upset. Even Scott noticed."

I reach for my pizza again, taking a huge bite and talking around my mouthful. "We already talked about that."
 

Jenna shakes her head. "No. I talked. I asked questions and you didn't answer them. Maybe this is why you feel like we're not that close anymore. You don't tell me anything."

My head snaps up. Her voice isn't accusing, just stating facts, like you'd talk about the weather last week or what you had for lunch. But there's hurt reflected in her eyes.

"Jenna, it's not like that. I just—I don't even know what to think myself." I flap a hand at the boxes of invitations and envelopes waiting for us when we've finished our pizza. "And you're busy with all the wedding planning. I don't want to whine about my sad little problems."
 

Jenna snorts in derision. "Please, Amy. Don't try to sell me that line of bullshit. My wedding isn't the reason you don't tell me anything." She points the crust of her pizza at me. "The real reason you don't talk to me about stuff that's hurting you is because you got too used to being the one pulling me out of my funk. Only I'm not there anymore, so it's my turn to be there for you. You've told me about Scott. Now tell me about Adam."

I throw my hands in the air. "There's nothing to tell that I haven't already told you, Jenna. We flirted, we went out, it ended, now he's being an ass."

She reaches for another slice of pizza. "I know that much. Brian said you showed up at The Barrel Room earlier this week."

It's my turn to snort. I should've known he'd say something to Jenna about it. "Yeah, I did."

She motions for me to go on. "Well? What happened?"

"Brian didn't tell you?"

She shakes her head. "He said he only caught the tail end of whatever was happening. And even if he'd witnessed the whole thing and described it to me in excruciating detail, I'd still want to hear your version."

I let my shoulders slump in defeat. "Fine. I went on Tuesday to tell Adam to stop treating me like shit. He's the best man and I'm the maid of honor, so we're going to have to interact to some extent at the wedding and the festivities leading up to it, so I think it would be in everyone's best interests if we can at least be civil to each other."

Jenna's eyes are wide and round. "What did he say?" She takes another bite of pizza. If she were eating popcorn, you'd think she were watching a movie.
 

"He apologized, and then Brian came out and told us to take it in the back room. I declined the invitation and left."

"Amy, why don't you tell me these things?"

"It didn't seem like that big of a deal."

She points at me with her food again. "When you go into my fiancé's business and start a shouting match with his business partner in front of the whole store, it's kind of a big deal."

"What? It wasn't a shouting match."

"Amy, Brian heard you from the back. That's why he came out and told you to finish away from the customers." She's looking at me like I'm not too quick on the uptake. Which I guess I'm not. Her voice is measured and slow, like she's explaining something to a small child. "Do you even realize that you just shouted at me?"

"I did not!"

She tries and fails to suppress her laughter, so it comes out more like a snigger than her usual giggle. "You just did it again." As quickly as it came on, her laughter dies away. "Look, Amy, I appreciate that you don't want whatever issues you and Adam have to screw up my wedding. But you need to talk to that man and hash out whatever this is. For you. Not for me and not for Brian. For you. So you can move on, or he can move on, or you can actually get together for real this time."

I laugh, but it's ugly sounding. This isn't funny at all. "He moved on months ago. There's no way we're going to get together. And, anyway, I'm dating Scott."

She just shoots me a look. "Talk to them. Figure it out, Amy."

I take another bite of my pizza, not responding. The last thing I want to do is talk to either of them. Why can't my life be free of frustrating men? Why couldn't I find someone perfect and nice like Brian? Not actually Brian. Just someone who didn't blow hot and cold, kissing me one minute and then not seeing me again the next. Flirting to formal to frustrating. Bringing me my favorite wine without being asked, and then being mean and nasty.