…
Julie leaned against the wall and tried not to burst into tears. For more than an hour, she’d watched Tommy schmooze everyone except her. How could she be jealous over everyone? But she was. Other than another quick kiss to the cheek when she’d walked in the door, he’d been whooping it up by himself—and his bevvy of followers.
He sent her an obligatory wave or smile here and there, but he was so lost in his good time that he didn’t even pick up on her increasingly bad mood. That said something, right? The fact that he could so totally ignore her said something. And she didn’t even want to think about what it meant.
“Hey, beautiful,” a masculine voice purred.
Rolling her eyes, she turned to tell the ass off, then gasped with happiness. “Brody!”
Without thought, she hugged him, just happy to have someone to talk to. He squeezed her back. While they hadn’t seen each other lately, they still talked on the phone from time to time and caught up. She missed hanging out with him.
“What are you doing off to the side by your lonesome?” he asked with a frown.
“My boyfriend doesn’t seem to remember he has a girlfriend. This is the”—she faked a thoughtful expression—“third time he’s done this in as many days.”
Brody scowled. “Are you serious?”
“He’s completely attentive at home, but we start getting into the MMA world and I’m put right back in friend territory.” Bitterness crept into her tone. “Do you know that none of the guys even know we’re dating?”
She’d learned that little factoid about thirty minutes ago when Tate had hit on her and mentioned he knew she was Tommy’s best friend and all, but he didn’t think he’d mind.
“Damn, Jules. I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. That’s how she felt right now. Defeated. Exhausted. Didn’t care.
No, that was a lie. She did care. A lot. She glanced back over at Tommy. He was talking to some guy about a mile a minute. He hadn’t even glanced over to check on her.
If he had, he would’ve seen her with Brody. Would’ve maybe at least come up to her then. She didn’t understand how hard it was for him to understand that she didn’t need much. She could be standing beside him right now and be happy as a lark. She’d tried that twice. Both times it was like he’d forgotten she was standing there and had just walked off. The embarrassment she’d felt had finally pushed her to stand against the wall.
The only thing he hadn’t done was encourage any of the women who came up to him. That should’ve felt like a bonus, but it didn’t. If he could remember he was in a relationship with her enough that he didn’t flirt with other women, how could he be so thoughtless to not introduce her, to let her stand here all alone? Would it always be like this?
When they were together, everything was hunky-dory, but the moment he put on his fighter’s cap, she became invisible again.
No. She couldn’t do this. Instinct had always told her that she and Tommy would never work.
They were too different. And she was living that difference right now.
Why hadn’t she heeded her own warning? She’d be saving herself a ton of heartache now if she had.
“Brody, will you walk me to my car? I want to go home.”
He put his beer down on a table. “Sure, Jules. Come on.”
She started toward the door, waiting for Tommy to stop her. As she walked down the sidewalk to the parking deck, she expected to hear his voice at any moment. Getting into her car and driving away, she anticipated the phone would ring. And as she curled up with the dogs and wept on the couch, she expected the door to crash open.
But none of those things happened.
And her world fell apart.
…
“Julie!” Tommy yelled as soon as he tore into the house.
Warrior and Lucy greeted him with excited yaps, but he ignored them, his gaze sweeping the living room and kitchen. Where in the hell was she? One moment she’d been at the bar, the next he’d been asking people if they’d seen her. When she hadn’t answered her phone, he’d really started to freak out.
When he didn’t see her, he hurried toward the bedrooms. “Julie!”
He’d just entered the hallway when she stepped out of his room, carrying a duffel bag.
As she neared, she tossed it at him. “Get out.”
Blinking, he caught the bag. “What the fuck, Julie? I’ve been worried sick.”
He’d never seen her like this before. So calm, collected, like she’d just told him the weather was sunny instead of trying to kick him out of the house. Then he caught a glimpse of her face. Her swollen, puffy eyes. “Shit. You’ve been crying.”
“Of course I’ve been crying. I was dating a thoughtless asshole,” she said as she stormed across the living room.
Panic closed his throat. “Was? What the hell is happening here?” When she kept on her forward trek, he yelled, “Look at me!”
After she reached the front door, she finally did. “Two hours, Tommy.”