Wasted Time (The Steel City #1)

4. Penny

CHAPTER FOUR

penny

I’m four drinks in when Declan drops himself into the seat across from me.

I am sitting alone, waiting for Avery to return from the bar. I handed her a fifty and told her to stock up so that we didn’t have to move again. Not like I’ve really moved much at all. She is currently fighting for a spot in line now that the crowd has picked up.

Wyatt left just ten seconds ago to use the washroom. It’s the first time I’ve been alone all night, and judging by the look on Declan’s face, I don’t think that was an accident.

Declan crosses his arms and rests them on the dirty tabletop. He does a cursory glance around the room, eyeing the moving bodies with little interest.

When he turns his attention back to me, his hazel eyes harbor a full weaponry.

I cock a brow, digging the cherry out of my drink with my straw and popping it into my mouth.

His eyes track the movement. Those dark lashes practically sweep his cheekbones .

“What are you doing, Pen?” he asks, gaze flickering back up to mine.

I chew the cherry, reaching up to pluck the stem from my mouth and drop it onto the table.

“Drinking. What are you doing?”

Declan’s eyes flicker with mild annoyance. By the way he heaves a long breath through his nose, it’s clear that he expected me to know exactly what he meant by that vague, obscure question that he asked without providing any context.

That’s what he always expects. For me to read his mind.

I can feel another round of Penny versus Declan coming on. It’s been a while. I guess we’re about due.

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t,” I say, leaning back against the uncomfortable bar seat. I bring my Long Island to my lips, staring at him over the rim. “Enlighten me.”

“With Gabriel.”

Declan knows his name. He knows it isn’t Gabriel. Yet, my knee-jerk reaction is still to correct him.

“Gavin.”

Declan rolls his eyes. “ Gavin.”

He spits his name like an insult. He always has. Annoying, since he used to be friends with Gavin and has seen him a total of five times since we moved cities. Declan doesn’t even know who Gavin is anymore. He just likes to act like he does.

It pisses me off.

Gavin has always been kind to him. He’s just quieter and more reserved, especially in this particular group of people. It’s a big, intimidating friend group to try to infiltrate. Can we really blame him for that?

He tried his best when we were in college, but he never quite fit in with all of our competing personalities. He was always around, of course, but he never really felt at ease with them the way that I did. Regardless, he’s never given Declan a single reason to act like saying his name is as painful as chewing glass.

I have my own qualms with my relationship, but I’m allowed to. It’s mine.

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

Declan shoots me a bored look that has me sipping my drink again.

I suddenly feel incredibly vulnerable.

I don’t do vulnerability.

“Why are you still with that idiot?” he finally asks outright. I roll my eyes, but he storms on before I can cut him off. “I thought tonight would be the night. Our semi-annual meet-up. You’d saunter in and say ‘ Hey Dec, guess what? I dumped that asshole ’.’”

I pull my lips from my straw. I’m not sure where he got that idea from, but I don’t like it. My temper stirs to life in my gut, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the insensitive moron across the table.

I love Declan, I do. He’s one of the very best. When he’s kind, he’s the type of person you thank the universe for, but when he’s not—he’s the worst. It doesn’t help that he seems to save that side of himself for me. When he goes full tilt, on a complete warpath, it’s almost always to go head-to-head with me, and it’s continually about stuff that really isn’t his business.

He is not allowed to say stuff like this. We have a rule.

Declan doesn’t know the details of my relationship and wouldn’t know how to have a relationship if his life depended on it. I am sick and tired of him commenting on something that belongs to me. Never mind speaking to me about my partner this way.

“You know,” I say, dropping my drink back to the table. I push it out of the way, leaning toward him. He leans in, too. “I don’t insult your many lady friends. I have never once called them something equivalent to an asshole, and they aren’t around for more than a month.”

Declan’s lip twitches upward. “That’s not true. Remember Amy? You called her a soul-sucking bitch.”

Welp. He’s absolutely right about that one.

In my defense, she let it slip in the bathroom of this very bar that Declan’s professional hockey prospects were the hottest thing about him. It all went downhill from there.

That’s one of the least interesting things about the guy.

I roll my eyes, leaning back in my seat. “Well, that’s because she was a soul-sucking bitch.”

“And Grayson is an asshole.”

My eyes flash. “ Gavin.”

Declan is full-on grinning now, showing me that blinding, arrogant smile. He’s proud that he’s managed to strike a nerve. Those stupid dimples poke out from the stubble on his cheeks and the urge to cuss him out triples.

“I don’t need to remember his name. He won’t be around much longer,” he says with a shrug. “Plus, he hasn’t come home with you in years. Not really making an effort now, is he?”

Shut up, Declan. Please, shut up.

I can only take so much right now.

No, I’m fine. I’m fine.

“He’s busy.”

It’s a knee-jerk reaction to defend him. I can say things like this to him in private. I can think them. But there is no way in hell I will let somebody else talk about him like this. Especially not the people who are supposed to love and care about me the most.

That should include Declan .

“Aren’t we all?” Declan pushes himself away from the table by his elbows.

He does another sweep of the room, even though we both know he’s not leaving this conversation unless he’s forced to.

We’re quiet for a moment. Me: burning holes into his head with my eyes, and him: acting like this conversation is a walk in the park, and like he’s not mortally offending me with each word he aims in my direction.

He drapes an arm over the back of his chair and finally looks back at me.

I’m positively stewing, My scowl is a weapon that I’m locking and loading.

Reaching for my drink, I take a long sip from the straw.

The best part about The Swan Dive is that their Long Islands are made with enough tequila to make your head spin after one. If you drink it fast enough, it makes the world implode. I could really do with an imploding world right about now.

“What’s your problem with Gavin, Declan?” I finally ask with a long, bored sigh. He wants me to ask that exact question, that much is obvious. He’s been itching to give me the reason he brought this up since he sat down.

Declan scans my face for a moment. That grin has lessened, and for the first time since his arrival, he looks like he’s trying to be careful about what he says next.

“He has never been anything but nice to you,” I remind him since he suddenly can’t find the nerve to speak.

“I could give two fucks if he’s nice to me,” he grumbles, reaching up to adjust the hat on his head. He lifts it, pulling back his thick dark hair with one brush of his hand, and places it backward on his head again.

“So, why do you suddenly have a vendetta against him?” I sip until all that’s left in the glass is ice cubes .

Damn. I need more liquid courage. Having this conversation mildly sober sounds like a nightmare.

“Trust me, it’s not sudden. It’s how he treats you that I’m worried about.”

My eyes snap upward at that comment. Where did that come from?

Declan’s eyes soften a bit. Oh, he’s serious. He’s thought about this.

This man that I’ve been friends with for ten years is concerned that my boyfriend, someone who I have known for nearly as long, is mistreating me. That’s a horrible feeling. I can’t figure out where that worry would stem from. I’ve never even hinted that anything is wrong at home.

He’s not necessarily wrong, but he definitely isn’t right. Gavin doesn’t treat me poorly; he just doesn’t treat me the way he should. He doesn’t treat me the way I want to be treated. It’s emotionally starving me. It’s a slow killer, but even so, Declan shouldn’t know that.

Without thinking, I glance to the bar behind him, where Avery is waving my fifty-dollar bill, trying to get served.

Declan follows my gaze but says nothing.

Avery is the only one who knows the ins and outs of my relationship, who knows my deepest doubts and darkest truths. But she’s also a woman who would move and bury a body with me, no questions asked. There is no way she’d trade secrets with any of the boys. Especially not Declan, with our complicated history.

Not about me.

“He treats me just fine.”

“Just fine?” Declan asks, cocking a brow. He shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s a declaration of love if I’ve ever heard one. ”

“What the hell do you know about love?” I ask, a bitter laugh rocking through me.

I need another Long Island. Stat.

“I know that you’re not yourself when you’re with him,” he says plainly. I stop breathing as soon as those words leave his mouth, my anger being sizzled by a deep, aching pain. Declan holds my stare. “I know that he’s dulled you down to this tame, watered-down version of yourself.”

I blink slowly, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat.

Ouch.

That one was mean.

“That’s called growing up, Declan. You should try it sometime.”

He laughs a humorless laugh but keeps his eyes trained on me. I recognize the look that has started brewing behind them and I know what’s coming. He chews on the inside of his cheek as he contemplates his next words. It’s the same look he’d wear on the ice in college. He is bracing for a battle. He wants one.

“Why don’t you have a dog?”

I blink.

“What?”

“For as long as I’ve known you, all you’ve wanted is a house full of dogs. Why don’t you have one?”

I stare at him, stunned.

He raises both brows, waiting for my answer.

“You’ve lived with him for what? Four years now? Where’s the pooch, Pen?”

I tense, shifting in my seat. He’s hitting the rawest spots of me and I’m not sure how much more I can take.

“I bet it’s because he won’t let you get one. He doesn’t want one. He’s probably too busy, right? ”

I grind my teeth together so hard that I feel like my molars are going to turn to dust.

That’s the exact reason Gavin has been giving me for three years now.

“I bet you don’t scream eighties rock songs at the top of your lungs in the car with him. I bet you don’t go see the movies you want to see because he thinks they’re dumb. They are, by the way, but that doesn’t matter. I bet you guys have all these plans that are just that—plans. Because he never follows through on them.”

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Tears of fury burn behind my eyes. I’m clutching my empty drink so tightly that I fear the glass might shatter, but I won’t look away and admit defeat. I listen to every single brutal word that leaves Declan’s mouth. I watch his eyes as he says them clearly, delivering blow after blow right to the center of my chest.

Because it’s true. It’s all true.

“I bet you go to sleep with him every single night and still feel lonely.” His voice drops, and he shuffles forward a bit. Instinctively, I lean away. “He doesn’t come home with you because he doesn’t care about the people you care about. He doesn’t care about your home, or what makes you happy. He doesn’t want to watch you down tequila shots or haul Avery’s ass to the dancefloor anytime those eighties rock songs come on. He doesn’t want to acknowledge that piece of you that’s still in there, the one he hasn’t smothered out yet.”

Enough.

I slam my hand on the table, but he doesn’t flinch. Our eyes lock. My blood is boiling to the point where I swear I can hear it sizzling in my ears, and I either have to leave or I’m going to destroy what’s left of this friendship.

My heart tears straight down the middle.

And it hurts.

“That’s enough.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s not.”

“Declan,” I warn him. It’s hard to keep the tears back now. They’re burning, pleading for me to blink and let them free. I don’t cry in front of people, especially not in public. I’m not doing this here.

“Penelope,” he says, voice low. “I’m not done.”

Tough shit.

“I am,” I announce, slipping my bag off the seat next to me. I stand, pushing the chair back and storming around the table without wasting a second to slide it back into place.

He wants to play dirty? Fine. I don’t have to stay and listen to it.

Declan stands too, stepping directly in my path. I nearly collide with his chest.

I glare up at him, my bottom lip shaking despite my best attempts to smother the emotion that he’s dug up.

His hazel eyes dart to my mouth, brows pinching together in the middle. He makes no move to get out of my way. He just stands there and stares.

“Ten years, Pen. What do you have to show for it?” He reaches forward and grabs my elbow, his thumb brushing against the sleeve of my blouse. “Property? Money? A bare finger that he’s never going to put a rock on?”

A sharp intake of breath leaves my throat like I was punched in the stomach.

How dare he?

My heart drops to my feet with the last blow. It shatters on the floor between us, fragmented and unfixable. I have been hurt before, many times, but none of them ever felt like this.

Declan is aiming below the belt, and he knows it. He’s shooting to kill, but he doesn’t realize that the only thing he’ll manage to take out is our friendship.

I think he already has.

“All that stuff is nice, but it isn’t what you want, and it doesn’t make it love. You aren’t in love, Penny. You’re comfortable . He’s already disappointing you. Cut him loose before he destroys you.”

My legs are shaking as I glare up at him. We hold each other’s gaze, though mine is made of pure ice and fire. Declan does not seem to fear that look—it’s been aimed his way enough times over the years. But this time, I kind of wish looks could kill.

He typically just grins and acts like a smug little bastard when I lose my temper. He revels in it. He isn’t smiling now.

“I told you what would happen if you continued to pry into my life like this. I warned you that it would ruin our relationship.”

Declan lets out a breath, rolling his eyes a bit. “Come on.”

“I told you, and yet you still push . You always push, thinking that you can flash a smile and say you’re sorry and I’ll brush it under the rug. It doesn’t work like that! The things you say have consequences, and you need to get that through your fucking head.” My tone is so eerily calm that it even frightens me. Declan’s face has gone slack. “You’ve made it very clear that I tend to keep people in my life that don’t deserve to be there. I think it’s time I change that.”

Him. I’m getting rid of him.

“Wait—”

I hold up a hand, shouldering the thin strap of my bag. “I would have never intentionally hurt you the way you just hurt me. Maybe that’s why Gavin never comes to town with me, Dec, because of people like you . I’m taking your advice. I’m cutting you out. ”

“ Lucky .” He opens his arms, whether it was to hug me or apologize, I’ll never know.

I ignore the way he uses that nickname as a saving grace. Tossing it out there like a life raft, hoping I’ll reach for it. I don’t. I slam my shoulder into his and storm past him, right past Avery at the bar too, who is finally being handed two shots and two drinks.

I won’t be there to drink them with her. She can ask Declan where I went. He can explain it to her with a flushed face, knowing that Avery will rip his chest hair out with her bare fingers for cutting my night short.

I am not allowing Declan the privilege of seeing how right he was written all over the tears sliding down my cheeks.

He’ll never get that from me.