Page 19 of Saving the Rain
Though he doesn’t go far. The back of my neck prickles, it would be just my luck... he’s settled down at the booth right behind ours, joining Tessa and Oscar.
Raine being indifferent to my presence is nothing new. This was so often our dynamic when we competed against each other. In all our years as rivals in the rodeo arena, he’d give me a slight curl of his upper lip, maybe a snide remark, but more often than not, he was happy to ignore my existence.
It never used to bother me too much back then. Sure, it stung, but I got the fuck over it and learned to focus on my own game. Besides, I figured it was better if his venom was directed elsewhere.
So why am I left with a skin-crawling sensation in the here and now? Why are my ears straining for any hint of conversation to float across from their table? When he’s a dickhead to me, he’s talking to me at least.
This? When he pretends I don’t exist at all, it feels like a murky, sticky tar in my stomach.
Even after all the crap with my mom, and the work I’ve done to repair the damage I caused more recently to those closest to me, this right here feels just as uncomfortable as any of that. A reaction I wasn’t anticipating myself to have at all.
We’re nothing to each other, that much I understand. But even so, this kind of situation puts doubt back in my head. Filling every corner of my mind with the white noise and scratching claws that remind me yet again of the fact that I’m an eternal fuck up.
I loathe feeling this way.
I hate feeling as if I’m so much of a terrible thing in his world that he’d rather ignore my presence completely.
Our meals fill the table,and conversation flows around me, a swirling pool of jokes and nonsense chatter. But I’m not in the mood for any of it. Where normally I’d be chowing down, and enthusiastically in the thick of the subject my friends are talking about, tonight feels like it’s all too oppressive.
The company isn’t the problem. No, it’s got nothing to do with them and everything to do with my inner turmoil. For some reason, the intrusive thoughts are front and center, loud as fuck, fixated on the fact everyone here has got their shit together. It’s too much like being smothered by a blanket of happy couples being mushy and in love to the point I can’t breathe.
Yeah. That’s enough to get rid of my appetite.
Shoving a few more mouthfuls down—I’ve forced myself to at least eat enough up until now so that I won’t get dragged into talking if I’m not chewing—I mop up the last of my fries and sauce, then grab hold of my plate.
“I’m gonna drop this off to the kitchen,” I mumble, and haul myself out of the booth before anyone can ask me a damn thing. If there’s anywhere I want to be right now, it ain’t sitting there, nor is itwith the nagging pressure of knowing my stepbrother is only a few feet away. Without looking back, I fist my jacket in one hand and head in the direction of the bar.
My eyes scan the room for the sight of wild blond hair.
“Seen Chaos?” Raising my voice over the music, I catch Knox’s attention as he’s running the soda hose along a line of tumblers crammed with ice set out on the bar top.
He slopes his head toward the end of the room. “Pretty sure he went outside.”
“Got it. Need any help with those?” I offer. At least if I’ve got something to keep my hands busy, I can try to ease this bullshit feeling bombarding me. My veins are burning up from the inside out, fizzing with something messy and uneasy that I can’t wait to get rid of.
“Nah, man. Shit’s under control tonight.” He flips an extra glass up onto the counter, fills it, then slides it my way. As he does so, the guy gives me a curt nod. Knox’s equivalent of telling me to kindly fuck off, quit bugging him, and leave him to it.
“Thanks.” I dip my chin and keep my ass moving.
Swiping up the soda after offloading my plate to the kitchen, I’m pretty fucking relieved to wander outside, leaving the crowd and thump of music in my wake. If there’s anything I need right now, it’s fresh air. Maybe that’s the thing eating away at me tonight? A packed room usually doesn’t bother me in the slightest, but there’s a first time for everything, I suppose.
The night air is sharp on my senses when I step outside. Fall has taken hold, dropping the temperature rapidly when the sun drifts out of sight behind the Peak. The garden area is scattered with people at outdoor tables and a courtyard set up with strings of bulbs crisscrossing overhead. A fancy fireplace, custom built, allows the night air to feel comfortable enough while being outside. Shrugging into my jacket, I let my gaze drift around the small clusters of folks enjoying the night air and the softer bass of music floating through the doors each time they open.
Looks like Chaos has disappeared. Knowing him, there’s every chance he’s already long vanished for the night. Or, more likely, he’ll be hidden around the back somewhere with one of his fuck buddies.
He’s never going to turn down an invitation if his dick is interested.
Letting out a long breath through my nose, I figure this is more the pace I’m happy to stick at for the moment. I’ll hang here a while before deciding if I’ll just dip out and make my way back up the mountain to my empty house and cold bed.
I stroll in the direction of the blazing fire and park my ass up on the ledge of the wall running around the perimeter of the garden. It’s been built with a wide wooden rail on top to double as seating, and in the process of settling in, I put my glass down beside my hip while getting my phone out.
You drag me down here, then ghost me?
I’m out in the garden if you want to pull your dick out of someone’s mouth and actually hang.
Otherwise, pretty sure I’m gonna head off soon.
Swiping past all the other notifications sitting there, leaving them all unread, is easy business. I’m not in the mood for her crap at the best of times, especially not right now. Crossing my boots at the ankle, I scroll through Instagram for a bit. I'm right in the middle of watching a clip Sage has posted from the most recent pro tour event when I feel someone hovering.