Still Jaded (Jaded #2)(9)

Bryce pondered that a moment and then started laughing. He shook his head. "Do you realize that you are mean to most people, but the one person you were nice to was a serial killer?"

I glared. "You're not making me feel better."

Bryce shrugged. "You're the idiot who comes here. He screwed up our lives, Sheldon. I don't get why you want to remember him."

I stared at him. "He screwed up my life. He killed Leisha and Bailey. He didn't screw up your life. You still went to Europe."

Bryce shot forward, "You are still furious about that, aren't you? You came with me, Sheldon. You didn't have to. I didn't make you."

I leaned to meet him halfway across the table, "And what else was I supposed to do? Be here alone? I killed someone. No matter how much he deserved it, I ended a human life. You don't think that ate me up inside? I may be a bitch, but I'm not heartless."

Two mugs of beer plopped down. Our heated discussion stopped as Bryce and I both leaned back and turned our attention toward our server. An unnamed emotion was brimming in her eyes as she looked between us. "Do you know what you want to order?"

Bryce cursed. "A burger and fries for me."

"What? No salad?" I taunted. "Aren't you in training? Don't the nutritionists have something to say about your diet?"

Bryce glared long and hard but didn't say a word.

I expelled a ragged sigh in an attempt to calm down and crossed my arms tight over my chest. After a few seconds of silence, I looked back and saw both Dorothy and Bryce were waiting for me.

"What?" I broke out.

Bryce ordered for me. "She'll have a side salad, Caesar dressing."

Dorothy closed her order pad, but I stopped her. "No. I want mashed potatoes. I want the cheesy ones…with bacon."

"Okay." She frowned as she scribbled the rest.

"You don't like potatoes." Bryce halted her with his words.

I clipped out, "I do now."

Bryce rolled his eyes and leaned back. Dorothy crept away.

"Is that why you come here? To remember how to be a bitch?"

I growled and my hands clenched the end of the table. "Marcus didn't make me a bitch. He just loved me because I wasn't a bitch to him."

Bryce shook his head, his lip curled at the corner. "Marcus didn't love you. Trust me. I have some knowledge on loving you, and he did not. He was sick, deranged, and pathetic."

"He was dangerous."

"No. He was underestimated because he appeared weak. And he was. He manipulated and maneuvered, but he was weak in the end. You bested him."

"He hurt Corrigan."

"And he killed Leisha and Bailey because they weren't expecting it, not from him. But don't do that, don't give him more credit than he deserves. He was spineless. And coming here, paying tribute to him—I think it's the worst thing you could do."

I felt slapped by his words. "It's not about him. It's about me, Bryce."

Bryce glared for a moment, and then he started to laugh. "God, you just—you make me so angry. No one else can do that, Sheldon."

I felt the sudden break from the tension. "Yeah, well, I love you too."

The laughter vanished, and he whispered, "I love you—you know how much."

"Oh god. We're becoming one of those cheesy teen movies. Can we stop? Please. I'm not going to proclaim how I'll name my seventh son after your grandfather's grandfather."

Bryce grinned and laughed.

When she delivered our food, Dorothy eyed us in confusion. She asked once if she could get us anything else, but Bryce answered when he saw me look down. I didn't want to talk to her. I wasn't sure why, I just knew I didn't want to deal with her. He could, and he did. After taking a few bites, he stopped eating and sighed.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You haven't touched your potatoes."

"I don't like 'em."

Bryce snorted but took another bite of his burger. After a mouthful, he gestured again. "I can get her back. You could get a salad."

I shook my head. I had lost my appetite at some point. But then a different idea came to me. "Corrigan's playing sloshball at the house. Let's go."

Bryce frowned. "What?"

"Sloshball. If we go now, we can still make it." I was burning up inside. I needed to get out of there.

"Am I supposed to know what that is? And they're playing at your house?"

"At the frat house. Let's go. Now." I stood up, but Bryce hardly looked at me. He stopped eating as something dawned on him. Then he nodded and stood up to pull out some money. As he placed a twenty on the table, he murmured, "Okay. Let's go."

Bryce placed his hand on the small of my back. Something inside of me felt settled inside. I could breathe again.

As we got into the red Miata, I looked up and saw Dorothy at the door. There was a blank look in her eyes. She knew that I had caught her staring, but she didn't look away. A shiver went down my spine.

"What's wrong?"

I jumped in my seat. "Huh?"

"What's wrong?"

I reached for my seatbelt. "Nothing. Let's just go."

I didn't want to think of the empty look on Dorothy's face. It reminded me of someone else.