Page 69 of A Little Jaded

“Nah. Nothin’ wrong with a little variety, right?” Drake sits across from me without waiting for an invitation while gifting me with a pointed gaze I swear I can feel deep in mychest. But it doesn’t leave butterflies. It leaves a sharp burn I want to wipe away, though I’m not stupid enough to believe it would do anything.

As if he can see his affect on me, he smiles. “I think we can all play this game, don’t you?”

I feel Griffin’s questioning eyes on me, and I have no doubt they mirror Everett’s on my opposite side. I don’t know what they expect me to say. I don’t know how this goes. I have no freaking idea. Like a rubber band stretched too thin, I force my focus to snap from Drake to Everett.

My eyes plead with his as I wait. For what, I’m not sure. Maybe for him to take the reins? To make a decision? To tell me what to do now with my abusive ex sitting eight feet in front of me?

Why hasn’t he lashed out yet? Drake, not Ev. He saw me kiss someone who isn’t him, and he didn’t lose his shit. Why? What’s going on? And why do I feel like it only pushed us another step in the wrong direction?

A warm hand hits my thigh. I look down, finding Everett’s large, calloused hand on me. His thumb slips beneath the ripped material of my jeans and he runs it back and forth against my bare skin. Back and forth. Back and forth. Slowly. Methodically. As if it has a direct connection to my sanity, I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to calm the hell down.

Satisfied, Everett shifts slightly and bends one of his knees up, resting his forearm against it while keeping his opposite hand on my leg.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

He looks good. I’ll give him that much. Like he’s in his element. Like he’s looking into the face of a lion, and all he sees is a baby kitten he could squash with his bare hands if he wanted to. Everett Taylor. Kitten squasher. It’d be gross if Drake wasn’t the kitten in this scenario.

“Rules are simple,” Everett explains. “When the bottle lands on someone, both parties have to agree to the kiss and the location. If one or more participants don’t want the kiss, you both take a shot, then it’s the next person’s turn. If there are any issues, you’re kicked out of the party. Any questions?”

Drake shakes his head. “None at all, man. I’ll go first.”

With a flick of his wrist, Drake sends the bottle whirling on the ground. It finally stops on one of the girls he came with. Taliah, I think? Gorgeous brown hair. Olive skin. Sweet smile. I remember her from some of Drake’s games. She’s one of the girls Drake told me not to worry about. To be honest, I never really did. Why would I? Drake knew I’d leave if he cheated. It was one of the only lines I drew in the sand, and it’s one of the rules I think he actually respected. Now, here he is, trying to shove my nose in…whatever this is.

When Taliah realizes she’s been picked, she turns to Drake and lifts her head to pay up. He swoops down, shoving his tongue into her mouth like an overzealous porn star. It’s over the top and kind of gross, but I’m well aware this show isn’t for anyone but me. Too bad Drake missed the mark.

Without even blinking, I watch—hell, I stare—at the makeout session in front of me, being sure Drake knows exactly how little this affects me. How little he means to me, and how far he dropped off my radar as soon as his fist connected with my face.

Or at least it’s what I try to show.

The voice is still there, though. It’s quieter than ever, but I can still hear it. Telling me I’m making things worse. That I screwed up. That this is my fault. Because even though Drake was an ass. Even though he hurt me. He was still my everything at one point, and here he is, rubbing my nose in the fact I’m the one who chose to leave.

After all we’ve been through. All we weathered together. I’m the one who walked away. And I don’t regret it. I can’t.But it doesn’t take the sting away from having a front-row seat to Drake kissing someone who isn’t me when he swore I’d be the last girl to touch his lips. That we’d make it through anything. Through everything. Together.

As his lips move over hers, I realize how difficult it is to come to terms with the fact that the man I loved never really existed and the man in front of me wants to cut me deep. Whether it's physically or emotionally, his goal is still the same. To hurt me. And if he can’t do it with his hands, he’ll do it with his actions.

I deserve more, though, don’t I?

Then again, aren’t I doing the same thing?

I’m with Everett to prove I moved on. To prove I don’t want anything to do with Drake anymore. To prove I’m nothing but a girl from his past, the same way he’s nothing but a guy from mine. And I do want it. To leave Drake in the past. So, why isn’t he letting me go?

The warm hand on my knee squeezes, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. Looking down, I take in the scarred knuckles. The light dusting of hair on his wrist disappearing underneath his shirt. The veins beneath his skin. The strength in his hands. How big they are. How easily they could hurt me. How easilyhecould hurt me.

I peek at Everett, surprised by the understanding in his cool blue eyes. As if he knows exactly what’s going through my mind, and he doesn’t think I’m crazy or insane or…wrong. It’s so different from the look he gave me when we first met. When it was as clear as day how he labeled me as weak and stupid for dating someone like Drake in the first place, let alone running back to him after he hurt me. It’s like he finally gets it. Maybe not all of it, and definitely not the little details that will haunt me for the rest of my life. But part of it. The big part. The part saying it’s okay.I’mokay.

“All right, you two,” Griffin jokes. “Either find a room or let someone else play.”

Ripping his mouth from Taliah’s, Drake turns to me and smirks. “My bad. Seems it's been a while since I kissed someone who actually knew what they were doing.”

Asshole.

“Pretty sure we’ve been kissing different girls, then,” Everett counters dryly. “Because Raine has the sweetest lips I’ve ever tasted.”

“Well, since you’re used to my sloppy seconds, why don’t you give Taliah a go,” Drake offers. “You can compare the two.” He smirks at me again. “I know I have.”

My lungs deflate, my abdomen plummets, and my cheeks flush. Coming from a stranger, it would be a ruthless comment. Coming from a guy I actually trusted and opened up to? It hits on a whole other level.

“Nah. Don’t get me wrong. You’re beautiful, Taliah,” Everett points out as his thumb continues dragging along the slit in my jeans. Slowly. Methodically. “But I’ll have to pass. Over the years, I’ve learned not to fuck up the good things in my life, and I think we can all agree Raine’s pretty close to perfect.”