“Cranberry,” I say before downing that one too.
Nick holds his hand out, his arm creating a barricade between me and the bartender. “I know I invited you out for a drink, but that was code for ‘let’s talk’ not ‘let’s get shitfaced.’”
“I’ll get him a water,” the bartender replies, her eyes crinkled in a smile. Then she hands me a plastic cup instead of a glass one, as if she’s afraid of me dropping it.
“I’m starting to see how you ended up married,” Nick says, watching me like I’m a bomb he needs to defuse.
“We aren’t,” I mutter, pulling my water cup closer to cradle it in my hands.
“Aren’t what?”
“Married. It turns out the officiant was no longer ordained.”
“Shocking!” Nick exclaims with an exaggerated gasp. “Who would have guessed that someone willing to wed two drunk people would lie to them? What was it, a scam? Did you pay him for it?”
I open my mouth to answer, then pause. “I actually don’t remember.”
“So, you and Euan aren’t really married. And that’s a … good thing?” he asks. “Bad thing? Which direction is this conversation going?”
“It’s a good thing,” I tell him, the words coming out more forcefully than I meant them to. “We were getting an annulment.”
“Oh, okay. Then congrats.” He clinks his cider against my cup of water. “So why are you moping?”
“I’m not moping.”
Nick stares at me in silent judgement.
“Euan went home,” I admit. “On Saturday. And, I don’t know … we got kind of close while he was here.” Though I probably shouldn’t tell Euan’s exhowclose we got. “With the annulment, he would need to come back to town for the court dates, and we made some vague plans around that. Now we don’t have to worry about that, but …”
“But you also don’t have an excuse to see him either,” Nick finishes.
“Right.”
“Long distance relationships are hard but at least you met him first,” he says with a self-deprecating smile. “More than can be said for me.”
“We aren’t in a relationship,” I mumble, resting my chin in my hand. “That’s the problem.” Maybe it’s the shots, ormaybe it’s the fact Nick is a good listener, because despite my reservations, I tell him the story from the beginning. Most of it probably isn’t in the right order, and I wheedle a cocktail out of Nick halfway through, but by the end of it, he knowseverything.
“I’m not really sure I needed to know about your anal training,” Nick says, taking a sip from his third cider. “But it does give me a better picture of the problem. You’re in love with Euan and you didn’t tell him and now he doesn’t know.”
I stare blearily at him for a moment, not sure if I’m drunk or if the sentence really doesn’t make sense. “I’m not in love with him. I’ve only known him for a few weeks.”
“You’re definitely in-something with him, and I don’t think it’s lust, because it’s not his dick you miss.”
“I miss his dick too,” I mumble. “Last night I—”
Nick holds up a hand. “I know enough about your masturbation habits already, thanks. My point is: you missEuan—every part of him.”
I pause, then nod. “I do miss him.Somuch. I want to be with him. I want him to come back. I want him tostay.”
“So why don’t you just say you want to see him?”
“I tried,” I whine, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “Look—”
Nick rears back before my waving hand accidentally smacks him in the face. He grabs my wrist, then stares at my phone. “Alex, it’s locked.”
I shift it around to unlock it, then open up to the last message I sent Euan and insist again, “Look!”
Nick takes my phone from me and reads the messages. “Man, it’s not interesting snooping through your messages when there’s no sexts or dirty pictures. These conversations are too normal for me. But I’m not seeing any invitations to visit you.”
