“Shall we?” I hold out my hand and she takes it, and we lower ourselves down to the floor, sitting across from each other.
“I’ll go first.” I wink and unscrew the cap from the rum, taking a long sip. The burn creeps down my throat, spreading through my chest. “Fuck.” I cough, and it makes her giggle. “Haven’t drank liquor from a bottle since college, and here I am doing it twice in a month.”
“Bottoms up.” She takes the bottle from me and takes a sip, her face twisting as she sputters.
We make small talk about our day, about work, and discuss our plans for the weekend, laughing a lot. Between jokes and catching up, we continue to take swigs of the rum.
“You’re the best sex I’ve ever had,” she blurts, the rum clearly doing its job. She gasps, clamping her hand over her mouth and making me laugh.
“Is that right?” She nods, her hand falling away from her mouth. “Am I still the only man to make you come from my tongue and cock or—”I grab the bottle and take another gulp—“did you fake it?”
“No! I don’t think I could have faked that, and if I could I deserve a damn Oscar because that would have been one helluva performance.” I can’t hide my smile at how animated she’s being. “And yes, you’re still the only man. I haven’t been with anyone but you and Tim.”
I nod at the reassurance. “Good. So, what has you wound up?”
“Everything,” she huffs, running her hands through her hair. God, her hair. It drives me wild. I imagine tangling my hands in the strands while exploring her mouth. “Tim was cheating on me. I got confirmation.”
“Shit, what? How’d you find out?” That was not what I was expecting.
“I ran into his coworker, Jeff, earlier. I got close to him and his wife, Andrea, back when I’d attend work functions with Tim. We caught up and he told me that he was sad to hear about our breakup and said that Tim had been dating that first-year, Tiffany, since July.” She grips the bottle of rum by the neck. “I didn’t tell Jeff that we had only just broken up in December, so my guess is he thought it happened earlier in the year. Explains why Tim had been acting differently the last several months.” She shrugs, looking unbothered as she brings the bottle to her lips.
“I’m sorry Sadie, that’s—”I search for the right words—“seriously fucked up.”
“You know what’s crazy?” She leans forward. “In the moment, when he told me, I was shocked; but at the same time, I felt relieved. Like it validated my intuition; proved I wasn’t wrong all those months. It also validated me not wanting to give him another chance and made me feel better about already moving on. But the craziest part is…I really don’t care, and that’s not the rum talking. I’m just glad to be done with it all. I’m glad I will no longer be left wondering, beating myself up, thinking I’m going crazy because he’d gaslight me any time I brought up something inconsistent or suspicious.”
She looks off in the distance, then shrugs. “What were you going to tell me that night at the bar? You asked if I wanted to know what you were thinking when you looked at me in my outfit, but we were interrupted.”
“Ah.” I remember that night vividly, that outfit, her bare stomach, that fucking kiss. “No judgment?” I ask.
“No judgment,” she confirms.
“Well, the first thought that came to mind was that you looked like you were made to be fucked roughly by me—and only me—in that little outfit. The way the tiny skirt hugged your ass, I kept imagining what kind of panties you had on. Then I wanted to drag you out of that bar so none of those other men could look at you.”
“Thong,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Fuck.” I reach down and adjust my hardening cock. “You were killing me in that little outfit, pure torture.”
“Guess I’m glad I decided to wear it after all.” She smirks and hands the bottle to me. “Your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Yeah, you have to drink and confess something, that’s what I did.” She giggles.
“I thought this was an exercise to helpyoufeel and express yourself?”
She gives me a cute little smirk. “You’re not getting out of this.”
“Hmm, what can I confess?” I tip my head back, taking another drink.
“Tell me how you feel about me.”
I don’t hesitate. “I’m in love with you.”
Her smile fades, her face growing serious. “What?”
I repeat the words. “I am in love with you, Sadie. I’m not expecting you to say it back or even feel the same way but that’s how I feel about you, and I don’t want to keep it to myself.” I lift the bottle and take another drink. “I was actually planning to tell you that day we were supposed to meet for coffee, but when I showed up, Tim was there.”
Her eyes grow wide. “You were? Why’d you change your mind?”