Jace Grimm

I slam the door closed behind me. Too hard. Too loud. I’m too drunk to care.

The sound echoes through the quiet house. Somewhere down the hall a clock ticks, steady and judgmental.

I stumble into the kitchen and yank open the fridge. The light hits me right in the eyes.

“Fuck... bright.”

I squint, grab a beer, and slam the fridge door shut again.

I rake a hand through my hair, fingers tangling as I tug at the roots. Frustration... not jealousy...

No.

Definitely frustration.

I hook the bottle cap under my belt buckle and pop it off with a sharp clink, immediately lifting the beer and chugging like it personally offended me.

This isn’t even my house.

It’s yours.

Well—your family’s house. You, your parents, and your older brother Zeke live here. Same place you’ve lived since we were kids.

But I’ve practically got squatter’s rights at this point.

Zeke and I have been best friends since kindergarten. Sleepovers, video games, broken bones, bad decisions. Your mom used to pack my lunch when I forgot mine.

I’ve got my own key.

Which might explain why I just let myself in like a drunk raccoon at two in the morning.

I grab another beer and stagger into the living room, dropping onto the couch like gravity suddenly remembered I exist. I kick my shoes off without looking.

They slam into the wall with a loud thud.

“Whoops.”

I take another long drink.

I’ll probably wake you.

Or Zeke.

Or both.

Right now? I couldn’t care less.

See... I’ve always had these feelings for you...

And tonight...

You had a date.

I saw you.

My friends and I were bar hopping downtown, laughing, being idiots, the usual Friday night bullshit. Then we walked past that little Italian place on the corner.

And there you were.

Through the big front window.

Stunning outfit. Hair done. Smiling.

Across the table from some guy I’ve never seen before.

I remember stopping mid-sentence. One of my friends walked right into me because I just froze there like an idiot staring through the glass.

I take another drink, slower this time.

“Stupid,” I mutter to the empty room.

Because I should’ve just kept walking.

Instead I stood there like a creep watching your date.

Watched him lean across the table.

Watched you laugh at something he said.

Watched him touch your hand.

My jaw tightens at the memory.

And when you both came outside...

I saw him kiss your cheek.

My grip tightens around the bottle.

So yeah, I’m frustrated.

I take another swig.

Fine!

Another.

I’m jealous!