Page 17 of Never Gonna Lie (Forbidden #2)

Chapter Seventeen

JAMES

T heo dragged me to Bucky’s for a beer, and I can’t figure out whether I’m glad he did or if I want to punch him.

Noah’s sitting in the corner, brooding as normal, barely saying two words, and Theo’s downing his drinks too quickly for my liking.

He’s smiling and joking around as usual, but the light in his eyes isn’t there.

We came straight from work, so we’re all looking completely out of place—tailored suits don’t mix well with a dive bar, but this place has been our local hangout since we moved here.

“Where’s Caleb?” I ask, looking around. “Is he coming?”

Theo nods, sipping on his beer this time. “Yeah, I called him while you were chasing that waitress.”

“For fuck sake,” I groan and run a hand down my face. “I wasn’t chasing shit. I was asking for another round.”

And it’s the truth. I’ve struggled to get even remotely interested in another woman since Raven, and it’s only gotten worse after the weekend at Drew’s.

I look at women and catch myself comparing them to her—their hair isn’t the right shade of red, they don’t have the right amount of curves that Raven has. It’s fucking with my head.

I’ve tried distancing myself from her, putting that firm line between us, but my mind still wanders to her, usually when I’m lying in bed at night. I need to get us back on an even footing, one where I don’t think of her as anything other than a friend.

“You got that promotion yet, Theo?” I ask, needing to get my mind off of Raven. I know he’s up for one, they just haven’t said when.

“Nope. Fuckers are still keeping me hanging,” he sighs, dropping his head onto the table. “At this rate, I’m either gonna have to find somewhere else to go or start my own practice.”

“Why don’t you?”

Theo lifts his head, confusion clear on his face. “Why don’t I what?”

“Start up your own firm.”

Noah leans forward in his seat, chiming, “Yeah, dude. You’re the best they’ve got. You’re like Harvey Specter on steroids.”

“What a man,” Theo says wistfully, leaning his head on his hand and staring off. He snaps himself out of it, sitting bolt upright as he adds, “But no, too much pressure. I can barely keep a plant alive, let alone a business.”

Noah laughs. “True that.”

“Oooh, look, J, there’s a woman over there giving you the eye.” Theo grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

I’m pretty sure this was a tactic to get prying eyes away from him. I just really wish he didn’t use me to do it. Noah’s sitting right there for fuck sake. He’s usually the butt of all our jokes.

“And?”

“Erm, because she’s hot?” He gives me a questioning look, one that clearly says, ‘are you stupid? ’

Reaching for my beer, I mumble, “Not really in the mood.”

“What? Who are you?” he gasps, holding the back of his hand to my forehead. “It’s not like you to turn a woman down.” He starts fussing over me, and I bat him away.

“Yeah, James. What’s up with you?” Noah asks, a sly grin on his face.

“Why do I need to chase tail all the time? Can’t I just have a drink with my friends?” I groan, pushing Theo away.

“He met someone,” Theo says to Noah from the corner of his mouth.

“I didn’t meet shit, asshole. I just… don’t want to.” Why my dating life has become a hot topic, I’ll never know. Standing up, I drain the last of my beer and go to prove them wrong. “Will this shut you up?”

Striding to the brunette, I prop myself against the bar as I give her what everyone calls my ‘Flynn Ryder’ smile. “Hi.”

She swivels around in her chair, her nose turned down until she sees me. The brunette looks me up and down before smiling broadly, her white teeth gleaming in the low light. “Hi,” she says.

Raven has a cut little overlap on her front ? —

“What are you doing here?” I ask, though I really don’t care. I reach over and grab a napkin, acting nonchalant.

She laughs, crossing one leg over the other and showing me her panties at the same time. She leans an elbow on the bar as she sips her drink. “Having a drink. Why, what are you doing here?”

Raven’s laugh is deeper, huskie ? —

“I, uh, saw you…” I fumble, standing upright. I can feel my cheeks flush, and a wave of discomfort hits me.

Get it the fuck together, man.

“I saw you too,” she says around her glass, her blue eyes filled with lust .

Raven’s eyes are ? —

I swallow. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

Turning on my heel, I storm back to my seat, throwing myself into it. I grab Theo’s drink and take a long swig, ignoring his words of protest as I wonder if I should order something stronger.

“That was quick,” Noah observes. “That old Smith charm wearing off?”

I flip him the bird, grumbling, “Fuck off.”

Caleb's arrival distracts me from getting the third degree about why I struck out. I don’t understand it myself, so I don’t exactly want to try and explain it to them. They’d have a fucking field day knowing that the one and only James Smith couldn’t stop thinking about another woman.

We catch up for the next couple of hours, chatting shit, and generally just annoying each other. By the time I’m ready to leave, I feel better, lighter.

Maybe I won’t punch Theo after all.

Strolling to the front entrance, I shove the door open, drawing the edges of my jacket up around my ears. The chill of the wind bites at my skin as I jog along to the edge of the sidewalk and hail a cab.

The cab arrives, and I slide in, giving the driver my address when my phone rings. “Smith,” I answer.

“Have you taken Raven out yet?” Drew asks.

“What? Not even a hello?” I grumble, settling into the seat and watching the world pass by.

Drew gives a somewhat half-chuckle. “Hello. So have you?”

“No, not yet. I’ve been home for two days, Drew,” I complain, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation. This is turning into a bit of a joke now. What’s his obsession with this?

“When was the last time you checked on her? ”

“Drew, I’m not her fucking babysitter,” I growl. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? You haven't worried this badly about her safety before.”

He sighs heavily. “Nothing. I just—can you please check on her?”

“And you can’t call her because…?” I tap my finger against my thigh, trying to squash the nauseous feeling I seem to get anytime I talk to him about Raven.

“I don’t want her thinking I’m being overbearing.”

I laugh, but it sounds hollow. “So, it’s okay for you to keep asking me to check on your perfectly capable twenty-year-old daughter, but you can’t send her a text?”

“Fuck off,” he grumbles. “How’s the Sampson campaign coming along?”

Thankful for the change in conversation, I dive headfirst into something I’m good at.