“Where are you headed?” I hate myself for asking. For caring.
Olivia lifts a shoulder and fiddles with the strap of her purse. “Lindy says there’s a bar not too far from here that I might like. Says you used to know the girl who’s bartender there.”
“Kali Shepherd,” I say automatically. “What the hell are you going out for?”
“I get two nights and one day a week off,” she snaps. “I’m finally putting them to use.”
“Why haven’t you taken them before now?”
“Because before now I’ve always had Lindy or Mick to talk to when you’re having one of your childish episodes.”
“They’re not episodes. And I’m allowed to have a break from people.”
“Well, then you’ll understand why I need to get out. I need a break. From you.” She gives a condescending smile and moves as though to pat my cheek. My fingers wrap around her wrist and I squeeze. Hard.
“Don’t. Touch. Me,” I say, my teeth clenched. Don’t ever touch me.
I release her hand with so much force that she almost topples backward, thrown off balance in her high heels.
I swear roughly and reach out a hand to steady her, but she steps back to avoid my touch. I drop my hand. I can’t blame her for recoiling, but I hate it all the same. I’m a monster.
“Olivia…”
“Don’t apologize,” she says quietly. “I shouldn’t have tried. I’m sorry.”
She reaches down to pick up the purse that she dropped, and scoops her keys off the counter. “Mick said I could borrow one of the cars. I won’t be late, but I have my cell if you need anything.” She heads toward the door.
“Wait,” I say, moving toward her.
Olivia pauses, giving me a look over her shoulder. “What?”
“I…”
I have no fucking idea what I’m trying to say. I don’t know if I want to tell her to stay, or have fun, or something even more godawful and unimaginable, like beg her to take me with her.
Take me with you on a Friday night where there are people and beers and laughter and shitty music, and my old friend Kali.
But I say none of those things, especially not the last one.
I don’t go out. Not anymore.
“Thanks for making me dinner,” I say gruffly.
This time she doesn’t even turn around. “Just doing my job, Langdon.”
Chapter Seventeen
Olivia
I’ve never been to a bar by myself.
And I can’t say I’ve ever imagined my first foray into solo drinking being at a tiny local bar on the outskirts of Bar Harbor, Maine. But tonight I force myself.
Lately I’ve been terrified that Paul’s reclusiveness will be contagious. Like if I don’t get some outside human interaction, I’ll turn into a hostile turd like him and become this wretched beast who doesn’t have to be accountable to anyone for my pissy moods.
Actually, that’s only part of the reason I left the house tonight. Truthfully? I hoped he’d come with me. Not that I asked. I intentionally didn’t ask, being stupid enough to imagine that the thought of being left all alone might be enough to spur Paul into leaving the house of his own volition.
My plan was to make it look very much like I wanted him to stay. I made what Google claimed to be the Ultimate World-Famous Chili, avoided him all day (actually, he avoided me first, but whatever), and I dressed carefully in an outfit intended to be sexy but understated. You know, a girl going out on the town for her own amusement, but if she happened to meet a cute guy, then hey, why not?