Hope held up her tiny glass and waited for me to do the same. Clinking them together, I tilted my head back and poured the liquor down my throat, no longer flinching at the harsh flavor.
Hope’s face screwed, and she waved her hand in front of her nose. “So … did you steal some treasure you shouldn’t have touched, and now pirates are out to get you?”
“Something like that.” I took another sip. “I dunno. It just feels like no matter what I do—”
“Stop doing this to yourself. You have everything, and you feel like you don’t deserve it. Am I right? So now you’re looking for some defect, some flaw that you can blame when you run to St. Louis.”
“St. Louis?” I cocked an eyebrow, taking a long pull from my bottle.
“Isn’t that where all the deadbeat fathers run off to?” She twirled her empty shot glass in a circle, resting her chin on the heel of her hand. “I’m sorry. You’re not him. Far from it. I’m not sure you’re appreciated for that.”
For a second, I didn’t feel like such a fucking outsider in my own life.
“That guy was a moron,” I said.
“You don’t have to tell me. I lived with him.” She giggled as she took the bottle from my hand and finished it off.
My laughter died in my throat when I glanced past Ginger, seeing a familiar face at the end of the bar. Carissa Ashton was watching me intently.
“Fucking great,” I grumbled, nodding in her direction. Her smile spread as she made her way around the bar.
“Who’s that?” Hope asked in a hushed tone.
“Stage five clinger.”
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Josh,” Ashton purred as she eyed Hope. “Who’s your friend?”
“Hope, this is Carissa Ashton. Ashton, this is Hope, my neighbor.”
“Oh.” Ashton held out her hand to Hope, who reluctantly shook it. “I work with Josh’s wife, Avery.”
“Neat.” Hope shrugged as she picked up her shot glass and held it up for Ginger to see.
“Yeah, how is your wife, Josh? She looks like she’s ready to pop any day now.”
“Nine weeks,” I mumbled, hating that I had to make small talk with her. The moment Avery began to show, Ashton took every opportunity to make little digs about Avery’s marginal weight gain.
Ashton smirked as she tipped her martini glass to her unnaturally pink lips. “Tell Avery I said hello … if you happen to see her tonight.”
My nose wrinkled. “Why wouldn’t I see her tonight?”
Ashton shrugged innocently, looking to Hope. “You just look sort of busy.”
I sighed, the whiskey erasing any patience I usually maintained with Ashton. “Fuck. Off. And when you get there, fuck off again until you come back. And you will because you’ll never leave me the fuck alone!”
Ashton turned her back to me, pretending it wasn’t her I was yelling at. She retreated to her side of the bar with a satisfied grin.
Hope’s eyebrows shot up. “That was—”
“Stupid,” I said. “Carissa Ashton is a vindictive little bitch.” I stood from my stool. “I’d better get back home.”
“Did you drive?” she asked as she gulped down her newest drink. I dug my wallet from my back pocket, tossing cash on the wooden surface. “Yeah.”
Hope stood as she looked me over. “I took a cab here. I should drive you home. You need to make it back to Avery in one piece.”
I thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll tab out.” I slipped Hope the keys, knowing Ashton was clocking our every move. Even if Avery heard the truth, it would hurt her. Between the pregnancy, the headaches, and flashes, she had become fragile.
I shoved open the door to our quiet apartment, slipping inside and pushing it closed behind me. The moon was hidden behind clouds and all the lights were off, making it hard to navigate. The sound of Dax’s claws making their way across the linoleum gave me pause. I bent down, running my hand over his head and letting him lick my fingers.