“I wasn’t sure if you had already eaten, so I grabbed enough for us both.” He enters my apartment like he owns the joint, his steps confident. “We should probably get the ice cream into the freezer before it melts.” His thick beard doesn’t impede his cheeky grin when he mumbles, “It’s probably nothing but slop after that kiss.”
When he hovers closer to me as if he is planning to kiss me again, I point to the kitchen. “Freezer is that way.”
While he unpacks the Chinese, I head to the freezer to place the ice cream inside. It’s weird how well we play house. I guess it shouldn’t be. I did just say “play.”
A suggestion Alex’s mom made to me in jest yesterday smacks into me when I open the freezer to discover a half-empty bottle of vodka inside. “Slip some vodka into his drink. He’d never know. Might loosen him up a little.”
Loose lips do sink ships.
“Are we celebrating anything in particular? Or do you always go all out on Thursday nights?”
Alex stops spooning fried rice onto a plate to lift his eyes to mine. It hurts, but I maintain his eye contact. “There was a development at my work today. The odds swung in my favor.”
I shouldn’t trust the honesty in his eyes, but I do.
“So you’re happy about the outcome?”
He nods. “It’s best for all involved.”
I stupidly move close enough to him, he can band his arm around my waist and tug me into his chest. My heart twists in despair when he presses his lips to my temple.
“Do you remember that whiny two-faced bitch you mentioned earlier?”
“The one from three whole days ago?” The sarcasm in my voice conceals my anger. He really does think I’m a naïve idiot.
Alex laughs, then nods. “Yeah, her. She was transferred to another department today.”
“Oh.” My heart rages out of control.Boom-boom. Boom-boom.It chops up my words when I ask, “Who’s taking her place?”
His balk reveals more than his words. “Ah. . . we don’t know yet. Hopefully someone good.”
He presses his lips to my temple for the second time before he relinquishes me from his grasp so he can return to serving our dinner. The low hang of his head ensures I’m aware I’m not the only one now having a hard time maintaining eye contact.
* * *
Two tubs of Chinese, half a container of ice cream, and five spiked drinks later, Alex is looking a little tired. His tipsy state reveals he’ll be more of a touchy-feely drunk than a talkative one. Although I’ve unearthed more about him the past two hours than I did the prior week, I still need more. More alcohol and more talking will equal more time in anger management for me, but it will be worth it. I fucked up, so it’s my job to fix my mistakes,isn’t it?
“We should go out and celebrate your victory. It’s Thursday night. That’s practically the weekend.” I drag him to a standing position. It takes a mammoth effort.My god, I forgot how much muscle weighs.“Let’s go dancing.”
He gags. “Dancing. No. I’m tired. It’s been a long-ass week.”
His slurred words encourage my pursuit. “And I’m full of beans, so we’re going dancing.”
I lug him to the door, barely missing his whine about there being much better ways to burn off energy than dancing. It’s closely followed by a grumble about stupid womanhood ruining his fun.
“Be a good boy by following my lead, and I’ll show you how a period doesn’t necessarily mean no sexy time.”
My waggling brows freeze halfway. For just a nanosecond, I forgot this is a ruse. We’re not going out because I’m buzzing on excited adrenaline. I’m pissed off, annoyed as fuck. I amnotlooking for excuses to justify his betrayal. I’m seeking a way to destroy him. . . and hopefully find a magic cure to soothe the nicks my heart incurred during the process.
* * *
“Careful.” I lean Alex on the back quarter panel of a taxi before handing the driver some bills from my purse.
His eyes flare from my generous tip before they lift to mine. “Are you sure you’re okay getting him inside? These old relics don’t have elevators.”
I groan. It matches the one Alex makes when his stomach threatens to spill for the third time the past ten minutes. In desperation, I took him from feeling the pleasant buzz of alcohol to being rip-roaring drunk in under two hours.
Guzzling vodka as if it is water will do that to anyone, much less a man who hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol in years.
