He smirks and slaps a hand against my arm. “We already did. Now come to this party with us. We’re celebrating all the money we just made, and you can celebrate us hiring you to keep that money safe.”
It takes me a moment to understand what he said. “You already signed?”
“Sure did. Now let’s go get drunk.”
My liver is going to hate me, but Sai willloveme.
~
Dinner turned into a lounge and drinks with forty people—half of whom I’ve never seen before. Every time I try to sneak off, someone pulls me into a conversation and offers me a lead on a new account,a stay in their vacation home, or a refill. I’ve been running in circles for so long, I’ve made grooves in the floor. After a while, I decided to give up on going home at a decent hour.
Then, of course,heshows up.
David sits in the corner of the room in a lounge chair, laughing with a small group. He’s easy enough to avoid in a crowd this size.
When I need a break from ass-kissing, I hang out by the bar, sipping a ginger ale disguised as a Moscow mule. I want to be sober when I go home to Bri again. No more missed opportunities.
My phone buzzes. A text from Bri.
A selfie of her in front of the kitchen countertop, my pour-over coffee set prepped with two mugs beside it, her teeth digging into her bottom lip while she smiles.
Bri: I’m ready for cake. Coming home soon?
My favorite person, making my favorite coffee. Even a two-inch view of her sends warmth through my veins and causes thudding in my chest.
There is nothing I want more than to leave this room and taste her lips again. The fogginess of my hangover isn’t putting me in the best headspace to process what happened between us. Maybe
the universe is keeping me in this room for a reason. Saving me from dry humping her and coming in my pants again? Coming somewhere else instead?
“Hey, tech guy.” David appears beside me like an apparition.
I turn off my screen in a rush and put my professional mask back on. “Hey.”
“It seems congratulations are in order.” He lifts his glass toward me. “I heard you got the contract.”
“Oh, yes. Thanks.”
“Of course. Always love to see a brother win.”
I hate to appreciate his sentiment, but I do. We tap glasses and take a sip. His presence is oppressive when he’s so close. Encouraging yet abrasive in the way he carries a conversation, hyping me up while he likely doesn’t remember my name.
“You’re being a little antisocial for someone who’s supposed to be celebrating,” he says.
“Sorry, I was . . .”Lie, idiot. “Sending a text real quick.”
“Does your boss make you smile like that?” he asks. “Or do you have a little boo thang?”
“I do,” I say. It’s half a lie.
“Trying to sneak away to go see her? Or him. I don’t want to make assumptions.”
As if there’s nothing in between. I try to take the high road but only make it halfway there. “Her. And yeah, she’s begging me to come home so we can do more of what we were doing last night. And this morning.” Stretching the truth doesn’t make it a full lie, right?
“Okay. I didn’t know you got down like that,” he says with fuckboy pride. “How long have you been together?”
Why, David? Is there a time limit on how long it’s okay to lie about fucking over your girlfriend?“It’s new. We only met about two months ago. What about you?”
“Nah, not me,” he says to my confusion. “Just broke up with mine two months ago too.”
