you are, Mitch.” Stacey nudged him with a grin.
“Yeah, I know, but . . .” Mitch shook his head. “I thought he was a by-the-book nerd when we were kids, but it’s even worse now. Like he’s twenty-seven going on fifty.”
I nodded in agreement, but my mind whirled. Twenty-seven. Something was important about that number, but I wasn’t sure what.
“He is not.” Stacey smacked Mitch on the shoulder, and the action broke my train of thought. “You need to stop.”
“I thought that dude would lighten up once he went away to college, you know, out from under everyone’s thumb.” Mitch sighed. “But then he came right back. It’s a damn shame.” In Mitch’s world, everyone should be having a good time at all times.
“It’s not his fault,” Stacey said. “You know how he gets. It’s that time of year.”
Something inside me stirred at her words, like a memory I couldn’t quite catch. This time of year . . .
Mitch shook his head again before reaching up to pull off his T-shirt. “He needs to move on at some point.” He stowed his shirt in his gym bag and picked up his claymore, indicating that he’d already mentally moved on from the conversation. “Okay, girls, time to start the show.” He twirled the giant sword like it was a toy. “Break some hearts and fight some pirates.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled, but as he left, my attention turned back to Simon, who was on the other end of the tent now. He chatted with some of the other cast members dressed as pirates, his little pirate clique, as he finished getting ready for the day. I whooshed out a breath as he buttoned himself into his vest, a black leather one today. How was I getting turned on by someone putting on more clothes?
His words echoed in my head. Do you think . . . Did I think what? There had been this split second of an almost-moment between us, before Mitch had interrupted. Like the ice had been broken by our kiss the previous day, and he saw me now as a person. Not just a wench in a corset—sorry, a bodice. But the moment hadn’t lasted. As soon as we’d started talking about socializing outside of Faire he’d withdrawn completely, like my ex had. I knew the signs by now. I was an expert at he’s just not that into you.
In a flash, I was back at the last party Jake and I had gone to together, sometime last fall. A networking event at his first firm, the small one where he’d been a promising new associate. He’d worked the room like the smooth attorney he was fast becoming, and it was there that he met the senior partner at the big firm that he left his first job—and me—to join. At that party, he’d hardly introduced me to anyone, and if he did I was “his friend Emily.” Not girlfriend, and certainly not fiancée. Friend. After an hour or so he’d abandoned me to make connections on his own, as I was clearly holding him back. I’d adhered myself to the open bar, nursing a cabernet and feeling about two feet tall.
Now I felt that way again, without the benefit of unlimited alcohol to drown myself in.
I probably should get the message: Simon wasn’t interested. Besides, I shouldn’t want him to be. I shouldn’t want to be anywhere near someone who made me feel the way Jake had. That kiss had been an aberration, and I should forget it had happened.
“So you’ll come out tonight, right?” Stacey asked as we walked up the hill toward the tavern.
“Yeah,” I said. “Why not? It’ll be fun.”
Thirteen
It was not fun.
Okay, the actual night out was great. Mostly. As promised, the pizza at Jackson’s was good, and the drinks were better. For a place I had been actively avoiding due to its outside appearance, inside it was warm and friendly. Gleaming wood; a karaoke machine that worked a little too well once the pitchers of beer started flowing; dartboards and pool tables in the back. It had been a long time since I’d had a night out like that.
Which was why it had been a long time since I’d felt this shitty the morning after a night out like that.
Coffee was essential. Also a large glass of water. And a very dark, very quiet room where I could not talk to anyone all day. Thankfully, April was ambulatory, and ready