The Distance Between Us (Book Two ✓)

sixteen

BEAU

It's been a couple of days since I talked to Emma. Apparently even Emma, sweet and made of sunshine Emma, can hold a grudge. The worst part is that I can't even blame her for being mad. I'd be mad at me, too.

In fact, I am mad at me. Mad at me, mad at this stupid restaurant and the bar that calls to me every time I glance in it's direction, and more than anything right now, mad at them.

I feel the irritated glare on my own face, my eyes shooting daggers at Rey and Jace ordering drinks at the bar. As Rey stares up at him and bats her eyelashes, I clench my fist against the rough material of my jeans.

What the fuck is he still doing here?

I can't stand the way Jace saunters over to the booth I saved for us, arm slung casually over Rey's shoulder, smug smirk on his sleazy face. I have a hard time hiding it, too, barely grunting when they sit across from me.

I didn't want to come to dinner, not with Rey and definitely not with Jace. The show went well, and the food here is supposed to be incredible, but I'd be happier with room service and a chance to lay in bed. I'm trying to be a good sport though, and Rey is right - not celebrating a show is pretty lame.

"What, no drink tonight, Beau?" Jace leans back in the booth, one arm draped around Rey, the other holding his beer bottle to his cheek. "It was a great show, might as well celebrate." He winks.

I grit my teeth and focus on keeping my breathing even, stopping the red fury already tinting my vision.

"Jace, stop. Seriously," Rey gives him a stern look, her thick brows scrunched above her eyes. "You know he's sober."

Jace isn't looking at her when she speaks, though. His eyes are on my face, his smirk growing more sarcastic by the second.

"Oh right," He smacks his palm to his forehead before resting it back around Rey. "The sober thing, I keep forgetting." A menacing glint passes over his light eyes. "See, it's just the Beau I knew, man could he throw back a handle of whiskey like it was nothing."

He waits for me to speak, but I only glare at him. Looking between the two of us, Rey looks uncomfortable, her dark eyes downcast at her hands.

"Jace," She speaks when I don't, which pisses me off even more. I can handle my own shit, I just know better than to play into Jace's game. "That was a long time ago," She mumbles, lifting her eyes to me. She thinks it's compassion, but all I feel is pity.

"Not that long." Jace says almost immediately. "I'm just saying, my guitar player knew how to party. It's there if you want it," His eyes glint in the dim lighting, daring me, as he pushes the glass of whiskey across the table.

If the whiskey wasn't there, I'd be fuming at the way he called me "his" guitar player. But it is, so instead, the back of my throat is on fire, my knuckles sore from clenching my fists so tightly. Eyeing the drink in front of me, I don't let myself even take a breath, worried that I'll cave.

"Jace!" Rey gasps, quickly grabbing the glass and downing it in one go. My chest constricts painfully, in both relief and disappointment.

"It's nothing," Jace shrugs, expression looking bored already. "Just messing around between old friends, right Beau?"

Mouth set in a firm line, I shove myself out of the booth, hands shaking as I make my way to the bathroom.

Once inside, I slam my fist against the door. God, I should beat the shit out of him. Right here, right now.

My fists ache to feel the crushing of his cartilage beneath my knuckles. It's what he deserves. I slam my fist against the door again before turning to the sink and splashing cold water on my face.