Page 30 of Accidental Husband

I shrug my shoulders, but it doesn't break up the tension in my chest. This isn't a big deal. I'm used to putting my foot in my mouth.

Usually, it doesn't bother me. I certainly don't wince over my wording.

I tell it like it is. Even if it hurts. Even with Jules.

Right now—

It's different. I can't explain how. It just is.

Her pain hits me somewhere deep. Like it's mine.

No, it's worse than mine. It's always been worse than mine. I'd gladly take any hurt headed her way.

Out of pure selfishness. Because I can't bear to watch her hurt. Because I'm fucking terrible at making it better.

She looks back to me and raises a brow. When I don't respond, she picks up her cell and texts me.

Jules: Hurry up and pee. I'm going after you.

Griff: You go first. I'll get in line.

Jules: You won't get the veggies right.

Griff: I've seen you order this a million times.

Jules: I'd rather do it myself.

Griff: Suit yourself.

Jules: You're being stupid.

Griff: How?

Jules: I'm used to you saying stupid things. I know what you mean.

Griff: Do you?

Jules: Yeah, it's normal you're a little resentful of my semi-functional family. I wish I could give you that.

Griff: You know I can't take this kind of shit.

Jules: And I can?

Griff: Didn't you have a boyfriend for five years?

Jules: I thought we had a rule.

Griff: About abstract discussions of your relationship history?

"Miss?" The sandwich artist asks. "Are you ready?"

Jules slides her cell into her pocket and motions to the bathroom. Then she turns back to the counter and starts to order her turkey club, piling it with exactly the right amount of tomatoes, peppers, onions, peppercorns.

She really does have disturbing taste.

I head to the bathroom before she can shoot me anotherwhat the hell is wrong with you?look.

My bladder is screaming. Which doesn't make this place any more palatable. Why are fast food bathrooms so disgusting?