Making my way toward the front entrance, I relieve Tank—Gavin’s Marine buddy, and yes, the nickname is very fitting—and usher the last remaining customers outside, assisting several wobbly girls into a cab and shooing away a couple blank-eyed loiterers, before flipping the outside lights off.

I’ve just locked the door when I’m ambushed.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” Ivy intones harshly, loud enough for only me to hear. “But it needs to end. Now.”

Sighing, I take my time sliding the final deadlock into place before turning to face the pint-sized demon who just can’t leave well enough alone.

I cross my arms and give Ivy a measured look. “I’m not playing any games.”

Her face tightens. Green eyes blazing, she jabs me in the chest. “Then what do you call tonight? I’m not blind, you know. You did or said something to set him off.”

I rub my chest where she poked me as she goes on.

She clenches her jaw as if to shut herself up, but then she all but growls, “What did you do, Will?”

My mouth curls into a disbelieving frown. “Are you seriously blaming me for his current state?” I huff and shake my head. “He’s a grown ass adult, Ivy.”

Her lips press together into a hard line.

I spread my hands. “If getting shitfaced and fucking anything with a pair of legs and tits is his idea of a good time,” I say not unkindly, “far be it from me to stop him.”

She searches my face. “He’s normally not so...”

“Belligerent?”

She looks away.

Running a hand over my hair, I try to soften my demeanor. “Look, Ivy, I don’t know what his problem is.” His face from this morning surges to the forefront of my mind, all hard lines and bleached lips and vacant eyes. I shove it down and duck my head to focus on Ivy’s bright green gaze. “But it’s not mine. You get me?”

And I mean it this time.

I’m done.

I get that I fucked up. I didn’t listen.

Again.

I didn’t listen back then, and I didn’t listen to him now. Time and time again, he’s made it clear how he felt about me being here, and I’ve all but ignored his wishes like the stubborn shit I am.

That one’s on me.

But this morning?

Well, I might not know exactly what triggered him. But I think I have a pretty damn good idea where it came from, when he lashed out at me like he did before running off like the hounds of Hell were after him.

Or in this case, just your friendly, albeit stupid, neighborhood homosexual.

I’ll be damned if I allow him, or anyone else, to gaslight me into thinking it was all one-sided. That I’m solely to blame.

Not this time.