Sunday night after work,a group of about ten of us head out to a bar a few blocks from the restaurant to celebrate Lori’s birthday. I’m exhausted from a double shift at work and staying up late last night to research Spain programs, but I can’t say no to a couple of drinks for a coworker’s birthday or I’ll be shunned.
I don’t realize until I have my first drink in hand that Reeve is with us. He didn’t even work tonight. Of course he and his phony-ass charm have ingratiated themselves to the entire restaurant staff in a matter of weeks. I would’ve thought he had too much jersey-chaser sex to catch up on, but there he is, already giving himself the starring role inside the circle of Somerset employees around him and commanding attention every time he walks through the bar. With my hair and clothes, I’m used to turning heads, but Reeve’s ability to captivate a room with only his imposing form is enviable.
I find a high-top with Lori and some of the other girls, and we start bitching about Cecily. By our second round, we’ve moved on to talking about the guys from work, with special attention paid to Reeve, of course. I have to bite my tongue hardwhen Phoebe exclaims how gorgeous he is and there’s a chorus of agreement, with extra compliments thrown in like “charming” and “hilarious.” I excuse myself to the ladies’ room when the subject of his eyes comes up. His eyes? Who the fuck cares? My abnormal psych professor has electric-blue eyes, too, but you don’t see the entire class swooning every time he blinks.
When I exit the ladies’ room, though, Reeve’s eyes are exactly what I’m thinking about; to be precise, Lori’s eager observation that even across the room in the darkened bar, their blue sparkles unnaturally bright. Without wanting to, I glance toward the bar where the guys are gathered—and find Lori’s assertion instantly confirmed, because Reeve is watching me, and yes, his eyes are so blue they stun me.
Immediately I feel like I’ve given him something I shouldn’t have by looking at him. His body is facing the two women in front of him, but his head is turned over one broad shoulder to look at me. The slight smile on his lips seems leftover, like it was meant for the girls he’s talking to and just happens to be lingering, because it doesn’t at all match the look in his gaze.
He follows my movement for a few steps that feel much longer while my heart beats faster than it should. Then one of the girls he’s entertaining strokes her fingers along his jaw and tilts his head down to look at her, and he does as told. Somewhere inside me, a tiny, hot fire burns at the sight of her fingers on him. What would his skin feel like? I push the revolting thought away.
At the table, the girls have moved on to speculating about whether Cecily is single, and a few of the guys have joined us and brought a fresh round of drinks. I position myself with my back to Reeve and force my way into the conversation.
I’ve finally reached the point of actually enjoying myself when I glance over and see Sam sitting three tables down. Frenchy is with him, of course.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen them out together, but it’s the first time since I learned that the whole time I was working to get back in his good graces, he was a lying scumbag. Anger bubbles up inside me. In seconds I’m out of my chair and pushing past the crowd of people separating me and him.
Frenchy sees me approach, and the smile on her face evaporates. I give her a nod to let her know she’s not needed here, but while she looks uncertain, she remains on her barstool.
“Jade,” Sam says when I appear at his side. “Uh, hey.” We have an unspoken agreement that I don’t approach him when he’s with her, and I’ve just broken it.
“Hey.” I have a brief fantasy of the verbal trap I could craft if only I was sober, something to lure him into a false sense of security before snapping my razor-sharp teeth down on his unsuspecting neck. But I’m a little drunk and a lot angry and I don’t have time for extras. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you lately, Sam.”
“Hearing what?”
“I’m just curious. What were you up to last spring when we were supposed to be giving things another shot?”
He shoots a wary look at Frenchy. “What are you getting at?”
I turn so that his girlfriend is at my back. “You were seeing her that whole time. You never stopped.”
A rare look of shame crosses his face. Sam is a man of very few regrets. “Okay, we can talk about this, but not now. Let’s find a more appropriate place and time.”
“No,” I say quickly. “We’re only going to talk about it once, and it’s going to be now. If she can’t handle it, she can leave.” I glance over my shoulder, but Frenchy has already gone.
Sam sighs with frustration. “Fine; it’s always your way, isn’t it? Listen to me, I shouldn’t have done that. It was immature and it reflected a selfish pointin my life.”
I wait in silence.
“I didn’t intend to hurt you. But the truth is, you and I were dead in the water by then. I only agreed to try again because you wanted it so bad. I felt sorry for you. Besides, I never explicitly said I stopped seeing her; you assumed because you wanted to.”
I’m stunned silent for a moment. Even when we were breaking up, Sam was never so callous. “You’re being a dick,” I manage to spit at him.
“And you’re being a child. Approaching me when I’m out with my girlfriend like this? You haven’t changed. You don’t want to hear what I have to say; you want to make a scene, like always.”
His words sting, but I brush them away. “Sometimes change isn’t a good thing. Just look at who you’ve become.”
There’s nothing but coldness in his eyes when he looks at me. “I’ve moved on, Jade. I suggest you try it already.”
And in the face of that truth, I suddenly feel like a complete fool.
A muscled arm settles on my shoulder, and I turn to find Reeve sneering at Sam. “Don’t worry, dude,” he tells my ex-boyfriend as he pulls me tight against his chest. “She already has.”
I try to savor the look of shock on Sam’s face as Reeve escorts me away, his warm hand heavy on my shoulder. But a thousand feelings are firing inside me at once, fighting to break free, and all I can feel is numb. I can’t seem to formulate any kind of plan, so I let Reeve guide me through the crowd and out the back door to an empty brick patio that’s clearly closed to the public.
The quiet coolness of the night air shocks me back to life. Before I can turn to Reeve, I’m crying.
I shouldn’t be. I don’t even want Sam back. The Sam I knewwould never speak to me so coldly, even in his angriest moments. He would never have seen another girl behind my back and then twisted his words to make it seem okay. Maybe that’s why I’m crying: Too much has changed.
