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He isn’t expressive and not that he needs to be or that I should expect him to be either. He’s aloof and quiet and diplomatic, and this is the way he’s been since I met him, something I always mistook for petulance.
“Tommy!” a voice calls out. “Man, you back here?” Dylan rounds the corner coming down the aisle and stops a few feet short of us. “Am I interrupting something?” he asks, a stupid smirk on his face and insinuation dripping from his voice.
“No,” we respond in unison.
“Good,” he replies, smiling at me coyly as he sidles up next me. He’s the epitome of a smooth talker and he has the body to match. “So, what you up to later, Penny?”
“Working, I’m sure,” Tommy interrupts, answering for me. “Working here at Somerville’s your place of employment. Did you need something, Dylan? You came looking for me, not Penny.”
“Yeah, but she was a happy surprise,” he jokes and nothing about it has Tommy laughing, which has me feeling a little bit better about everything. I may detect a hint of jealousy in Tommy’s response.
“I’m just leaving. I work tomorrow. Maybe I’ll see you around,” I tell him, walking off back toward the entrance.
I don’t want to ever be that girl that forces herself onto a guy, but there was something between us and there still is. I have no idea why he’s holding back. The age gap? The flightiness of my life? Fear of commitment? I don’t know, but I’m not going to sit around and wait for him to get his shit together and if anyone understands that a one-night stand doesn’t equate to a relationship, it’s me. He can make things awkward all he wants, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m not giving up my job at Somerville’s because he can’t move on.
I pull my phone from my purse and find a notification from Mystery Matchmaker. I have a message from C. Grizwold and I scrunch my eyes shut tight and clench my teeth. I had totally blown him off last night after weeks of chatting, so I could randomly sleep with my co-worker.
C.Grizwold: hey, how are you? Sorry I was MIA last night, work thing. How was your night?
Me: No worries. Was pretty busy too. Got anything going on tonight?
A few minutes pass with no response and while I get that it’s only been one night that has passed since we last chatted, I feel horribly guilty. He isn’t my boyfriend and neither is Tommy, but something about it feels like I’m trying to keep someone waiting in the wings just in case. It’s shitty and I know it.
C.Grizwold: Yeah, let’s chat tonight. Sorry, I’m at work, gotta run.
This is where my efforts should be focused and that’s what I’m going to do. I can’t be bouncing back and forth between people and waiting for one of them to make the right move. I’m putting all my eggs into this basket and if they crack, so be it.
Me: Sounds good. Message me when you’re free. I’m off work today.
Attempting to push my thoughts of Tommy to the side, because he was seriously some great sex, but I need to remember that’s all it was. I’m all in when it comes to relationships, so I need to stop making myself feel guilty. I would never go sleeping around in a committed relationship and what happened between Tommy and me has nothing to do with my chatting with C. Grizwold. Should either of them ever decide to take the next step, then that’s a different story.
This whole shift has me thinking I should probably meet up with C. Grizwold and see if we’re really as compatible as it seems online. But even better, see if that chemistry that sparks hot and steamy can be moved off the pages of the internet into our real lives.
Chapter Twenty
Tommy
I feel like a total fucking moron right now. Worse than that actually, and even though Penny has got it all wrong, I still can’t manage to string a semi-coherent sentence together and actually explain it to her.
No, I’m not sorry I slept with her, not even fucking close. That’s not what I meant when I apologized to her. But instead of actually explaining it like a normal person, I said nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.
God, I am an idiot.
And no, of course I didn’t tell anyone it happened. Especially not that little shit, Dylan who so clearly wants to get in her pants himself. Like I’d ever fucking say anything to him.
But for some reason, one that’s either related to my hangover or the fact that sleeping with Penny has permanently fried my brain, I can’t open my mouth and say all of this to her, especially in a way that makes any sense. Instead, all I’d managed was some half-assed mumbled apology, which she totally misunderstood and then we’d been interrupted.
Which given her last words to me, is maybe for the best.
It’s obvious what passed between us was nothing more than a fleeting moment.
Is that what she seriously thinks? That it was nothing more than a fleeting moment, a fucking itch to scratch?
Jesus, what a fucking mess I’ve made.
My phone chimes out with a message and when I take a look, I see it’s from Wine Queen, asking what I’m up to tonight. To be honest, I wish I was doing the same thing I was doing last night, but I know that’s not gonna happen. Not after I’ve just gone and completely fucked it up.
I type out a quick response.
