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Or at least that's what I assume she's still going on about.

The second those curtains closed, I didn't hear a word she was saying—not really. Not about V or baseball or the fact that JJ's brother Wes is her best friend which is how she ended up here.

None of it.

Because… Lenny's here.

When my eyes locked with hers, it took everything in me not to react. To how stupid this is. To how pissed I am—at her, at the goddamn universe. And to how badly I want to march right over there and tell her to stop hiding behind this little song and dance and start fucking talking. Because I was doing just fine for the last few years—finally moving on. But this acting like our worlds didn't implode back then is getting really old.

And I know I'm not alone in this.

No, the worst part is… I know she feels it too.

She might have acted like she was happy to see me—waving at me like I'm her goddamn pal. Like coexisting in this club isn't the most unnatural fucking thing. But I saw her face when her eyes scanned left and she spotted Cecily standing across from me.

Lenny's jealous.

And I knew exactly what she was thinking when I followed the objectively beautiful blonde into this private booth, knowing she was watching.

But I didn't care.

Because Lenny has my number and didn't use it. And that may sound petty but, well… that's just where I'm at with her. I'm sick of living in this mind-fucked state I've been in since I saw her standing in my kitchen.

I'm realizing that she might be okay ignoring the past, but I'm not. And maybe it's the half a beer I've had or the reminder my dick just gave me that even it didn't forget how close we once were, but I'm done playing pretend.

"Yeah, that sounds great, Cecily. Thank you." My pulse quickens as I force a smile, already stepping away from the booth before I can talk myself out of it.

She grins. "Hey—can we get a picture?" Her voice cuts through just enough to register. "You're my girlfriend's hall pass. She'd be so pissed if I didn't send her a selfie."

"Uh, yeah, a little later, though. Cool?" I mutter, sliding my hand between the curtains. "I'll, um… I'll be back."

I won't.

I push past the curtain, back into the low-lit lounge, my gaze immediately swinging to her table.

But she's not there.

Instead, Wes is sitting in her booth with his arm draped across Lenny's friend's shoulder as the two of them laugh at the framed image on the wall that is undeniably porn disguised as overpriced art.

Still, I move toward them.

"Yo, Jace, have you met Dylan?" Wes asks as I get close enough.

"Where is she?" I snap, more stern than I mean to.

"What are you—"

"Outside getting air."

They both answer at the same time, Wes's face dripping with confusion, but Dylan's steady and unwavering. My eyes burn through hers as an unjustifiable relief washes over me.

Lenny didn't leave.

I offer her all the smile I can muster and nod once before turning toward the stairs.

Wes huffs out a laugh. "Jace, what the—"

"Jace," I say, twisting back around. I hold my hand out to Dylan, and she slides her palm into mine. "It's nice to meet you, by the way."