Page 56 of Love & Other Drunken Mistakes
I sigh and slump in my seat. Calder has a point. As much as I’m drawn to Alex, our marriage will eventually end. What will our relationship look like afterwards? Whenever I try to remain friends with an ex, the friendship dwindles over time. Either they meet someone and become absorbed in their newromance, or we struggle to keep the conversation going beyond casual pleasantries. Will that happen with Alex too?
Is there a way to hold onto him, or am I bound to lose him to distance or someone else? The deeper I dig myself into this relationship, the harder it’ll be to climb out at the end of it.
At the very least, we probably shouldn’t be adding sex and intimacy into the already tangled mess. No matter how much I want to taste him again, to feel him writhe beneath my hands, to hear his impassioned voice crying my name—
Alright, now I’m just making myself horny.
When I return to Alex’s apartment tonight, we’ll talk, figure things out. Slow things down and decide what kind of relationship we really want.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Alex
I arrive back at my apartment before Euan. I’m not sure if he’s still working or if he didn’t want to impose, but it gives me time to prep dinner before he comes home. The only problem is, I have no idea what to cook.
The chicken needs to thaw, the beef is questionable—I meant to cook it last week. There’s half a pack of bacon left from this morning, but I don’t know what to do with it. Pasta, maybe? I check my dry stores and find half a dozen different pastas, but no sauces. Euan used the last of my eggs this morning, so I can’t even attempt carbonara.
When the door opens behind me, I’m shoulder deep in the bottom cupboards, hoping to find a stray jar of sauce. I feel another person’s presence approaching behind me and realize this position basically puts my ass on display. “This isn’t a porn setup,” I call over my shoulder, “I really am looking for something.”
Euan chuckles at my predicament. I wait for him to touch me—maybe stroke my back or palm my ass—but he keeps his hands to himself. “Do you need me to run to the store?”
I sigh and grab the counter to straighten myself up. After all that big talk about cooking dinner for him, I’ve come up empty handed. “That’ll take too long. How about going out to eat tonight? I’ll cook for you tomorrow,” I promise.
He reaches for me, and his knuckles are an inch from my cheek when his hand drops to his side. An odd look crosses his face before he smiles. “Alright. Anywhere you had in mind?”
My first thought is sushi but the last time I ate at my favorite place was when I first proposed to Theresa. So of course my second thought is Pedestal, which is an evenworseidea, considering everything that went down. Imagine the waitstaff’s reaction if I walk in there with a new date after my last one ‘accepted’ my proposal. There’s no way they’ve forgotten about me already.
Of course, every restaurant I think of has some Theresa-specific memory associated with it, especially since I usually researched the menu before each date in case she wanted me to order for her. Right now, I could tell Euan her top five favorite dishes, but I can’t decide on a place to eat.
“Hey,” Euan murmurs, and this time he does touch me, gently grasping my shoulder. “No need to overthink it. Anywhere with a burger and fries will be good.”
“Burger and fries,” I repeat, nodding slowly. That narrows it down and makes it easier to avoid unpleasant memories of dates gone by. Then I remember Euan saying he likes weird foods. “I know a diner that has an Elvis burger? It’s got peanut butter, bacon, and bananas.”
He grins and brushes his thumb gently back and forth on my shoulder. I don’t know whether I’m more distracted by his smile or his touch. “Perfect.”
The diner’s only a few blocks away so we decide to walk. Euan’s quiet during the walk, though I sometimes feel his eyeson me, like he has something to say, he just hasn’t rehearsed the script yet.
“How was your day?” I ask, wondering if something happened.
“A few meetings, a few deadlines. You?”
As soon as he turns the question back on me, I think of my encounter with his ex. “Weird, but not too bad. I talked to Nick today.”
One of Euan’s dark eyebrows arches in surprise.
I tell him about hiding under my desk, earning a snort. I’d been hoping for a full laugh, but his reaction is enough to keep going. I joke about jumping out of windows and climbing into refrigerators, acting out the whole scene right there on the sidewalk, slowly teasing out a grin from him. “In the end, he just wanted to fob some work off on me! He talked so fast, he plowed right over me. I don’t know how you managed to get a single word in while you dated him—” I snap my mouth shut, worried that mentioning their failed relationship will worsen his mood.
“I’m used to it,” Euan replies, his tone even. “My brother’s the same way.”
Latching on to the potential subject change, I ask, “What’s your brother like?”
Euan’s lips twitch in amusement. “He’s a sci-fi writer, so anything you say around him can and will be used to fuel alien abductions, evil science experiments, and time travel shenanigans.”
The combination of ‘sci-fi writer’ and ‘alien’ reminds me of the weird sex toy Euan bought, connecting a few dots. “Wait, did you buy the ovipositor for yourbrother?”
“He has a whole collection of them for ‘inspiration’,” Euan explains, putting air-quotes around the word. “I don’t ask for details.”
The conversation pauses as we enter the diner. It’s moderately busy for a Wednesday night, so we probablyshouldn’t keep discussing kinky alien sex toys where everyone can hear us.
Once inside, the host leads us to a booth in a back corner.
