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A sigh before Sinclair worked his jaw. “Last Monday. Like I said, it was quick.”
“And you were supposed to be working.”
“I was, babe. I went after.” He lifted and dropped his hands. “Like I said, a partner wanted to go so I took him. I felt obligated. It wasn’t a big deal and definitely nothing to be getting excited over. I told you. I came to your house after.”
If it wasn’t a big deal why hadn’t he mentioned it? I didn’t understand, nor why he seemed to not be able to find my eyes now. A sight of clear and distinct red crushed this guy’s cheeks, frustration causing him to scrub into his hair. He appeared terse and agitated; meanwhile, I’d been the one who was lied to. I stayed silent since we were still in the presence of
LJ, the guy standing in front of us like he actually might pull out that popcorn tub. In the end, he decided not to, stating he’d catch me later.
LJ bowed to Sinclair along the way, and the look my boyfriend tossed back was nothing but cold. He faced me after LJ closed the door, his arms folded.
“I think we need to talk,” he said, again not looking at my eyes, and all I could do was lean back against the desk. Usually when anybody said that, it wasn’t good.
At least whenever I’d used the words in the past.
Chapter Eight
Billie
I stamped the shot glass down on the bar, receiving curious looks from both Griffin and Davey. I’d been drowning my sorrows for the past two hours in vodka tonics so I supposed I couldn’t blame them.
“I’m sorry, Bill. I think we’re just headed in different places.”
Laughing hysterically at my own tortured thoughts, I waved the bartender over, nearly falling off my barstool, and both Davey and Griff shielded their faces. We always went to the bar once during the week. It was a nice way to mellow out. They had their own graduate classes outside of our TA work, as did I, but most evenings didn’t consist of me getting piss-ass drunk in front of them.
Well, when a girl’s boyfriend broke up with her, I guessed she couldn’t help herself.
Sinclair’s words still played in my head. How he thought we were two different people and he was confused about some stuff and needed time to hammer it out. All of it had been a complete brush-off if I’d ever heard it. Especially considering the crap he walked in on upon coming to my office. He’d seen me with LJ, and that had obviously bothered him.
“Bill… I’m just so sorry.”
“Sorry!” I cried, lifting and dropping my hand on the bar. I faced Davey and Griff. “He said he was sorry. Can you believe that? I was going to freaking marry the guy!”
At least, I thought I might have had it gotten that far. We’d talked about marriage more than once. All of that, I was sure, was way more information than my fellow TAs probably wanted to know tonight during our weekly drink outing. I told them about my somehow failed relationship and how my boyfriend broke up with me. I didn’t go heavy into details, and definitely, didn’t surrounding that stuff that happened before with LJ. The whole breakup itself had been some weird-ass shit and still hadn’t made sense to me. I should have been the one mad at Sinclair. I should have been the one dumping his ass and not the other way around. He’d lied to me today. He lied to me, but not just that, he’d gone over to my arch nemesis’s house.
And how smug Lance Johnson had been.
The bartender slid me another vodka tonic, but it was Davey to put her hand out. She covered me. “I think she’s done. Thank you.”
“She’s done when she tells you she’s done, missy,” I slurred, slapping her hand away. I basically downed the thing, rubbing my mouth with my hand before wagging my finger at her. “I’m tired of people telling me what to do.”
Sinclair had all kinds of rules, always having to look a certain way when his colleagues or family were around. I couldn’t leave the house showing my shoulders half the time, and I liked my shoulders.
I sighed. “Lance Johnson just thinks he’s the shit. Smug bastard.”
Okay, so LJ had made it into the conversation a little. Again, no details about the Sinclair, him, and me drama, but I had bitched to Griffin and Davey about him. Hell, I felt I griped about him to everyone I could get to listen. The guy had completely worked his way into my life, a manipulative little prick, and how the fuck would he know what I wanted? How could he ever know that I…
I pointed, shaking my head at Griff and Davey. “I don’t want to kiss him. I don’t care what he says. I don’t want to…”
At least not much, and groaning, I reached for my glass again. Griffin and Davey couldn’t look more confused, and considering how much I was talking in circles, I supposed that wasn’t surprising.
Griffin got off his barstool. “It’s probably time to call this a night, yeah?” he asked, lifting his hand for his tab. He frowned. “And you should probably get home. Sleep this off?”
He was probably right, both of them, as Davey too asked for her tab. They both got their coats after paying, but I didn’t move with them.
I shrugged. “You guys go. I’ll send for a ride-share or something.”
We’d all driven separately over here, and no way should I be driving. I supposed I was sober enough to know that, and though the two didn’t look too keen on leaving me by myself, I was an adult and they couldn’t force me to do anything I didn’t want to do.
