to ever let someone have that much power over me, and I avoid relationships like the plague. Building a relationship with someone means giving them the ability to hurt you, and I’ll pass on that. I’m fine with keeping things casual. No need to get emotions involved.
I repeat her words from earlier back to her. “Something like that.” Though, unlike her, I have no intentions of divulging any more information.
Luckily, she doesn’t press.
“My best friend forced me out,” I tell her instead. “Except he’s running late.”
“Mine too! The brat had the audacity to text me to brag why she’s running late.” I pick up on what she’s referring to as she sighs, the frustration clear in the way her shoulders set inward. “Whatever. I’m not complaining about her forcing me to hang out though.” She shrugs. “I could use the drinks and distraction.”
“Because of the eviction.”
Eviction.
The word tastes bitter on my tongue.
I’ve never thought much about my job and the buildings my boss buys to tear down and rebuild. I just show up at the jobsite, get the work done, and collect my paycheck.
Meeting someone whose life is getting flipped around so my already loaded boss can pad his pocket some more?
It fucking sucks the life out of me.
I went through something similar at the end of last year. The owner of the tiny-as-hell studio apartment I’d been renting for years passed away, and the kids opted to sell the property. The sale happened so fast, in the end I only had about two weeks to find a new place and move.
Thanks to a good word from Dean, I was able to score the open apartment in his building. It’s more expensive than I wanted it to be, but the neighbor—and living space—is a massive upgrade for which I was long overdue. Luckily, I have solid savings to get me through until I can find a roommate or two.
She lifts her whiskey sour into the air. “To my liver, the real MVP of the night!”
“Though I believe I deserve the title for being the one providing the drinks for your liver, I’ll allow it.”
“I wasn’t finished.” She lifts the glass higher. “And to the handsome stranger who’s taking pity on me!”
She giggles, and I toss back the rest of my scotch in solidarity…and because I could use the drink myself.
I’ve been up since four thirty this morning and was on the jobsite by five. Then I had to listen to my co-workers complain for ten hours about how much they hate their wives and children.
Dean’s lucky as hell he’s like a brother, or else I’d have turned him down when he texted.
“You think I’m handsome?”
She pins me with a stare that says Don’t play dumb, then lifts her glass again.
She swallows down another healthy drink and rolls her tongue over her lips.
I try not to pay attention to the way my jeans tighten in areas they should not be tightening in.
But I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s been way too fucking long since I’ve been with someone. I could use a little relief between the sheets.
I flag Donny down, signaling for another drink before I let my thoughts wander too far. He knows me well enough to know I’ll be switching to beer for the rest of the night, so I’m not surprised when he reaches for a bottle of my favorite local brew.
He scuttles our way, dropping the bottle in front of me and taking my empty tumbler.
“Are you ready for another?” I ask, nodding toward her dwindling drink. They’re small glasses, so I’m not surprised she’s almost out again.
She tilts her head. “I should inform you you’re not coming home with me either, Romeo.”
I grin at the nickname. I should probably tell her my real one, but why offer up information she’s not willing to give too?
“I’m not trying to get you to go home with me…yet.” I smirk. “Just being a gentleman.” And trying to ease my guilt…
She nods, accepting that. “I’ll have one more, please,” she says to Donny.
“Coming right up.” He scurries off to grab her drink.
She rests an elbow on the bar, pinning me with those mysterious gray eyes of hers. “Why are you buying me drinks then?”
Straightforward.
I like that too.
I decide to give her the same treatment.
“Well, the first was because I felt bad for you given your situation. Plus”—I drag my eyes down her body, then back to her face—“have you seen your legs in those jeans?”