From the Inside Out: The Compilation (Scorned, Jealousy, Dylan, Austin) (20 page)

“Three weeks, huh?”

“Yeah, I just wish I didn’t have to leave her. We’re kind of at a pivotal stage in our relationship.”

My ears perk up as my intentions sour toward him. “Yeah?”

“Some decisions are going to have to be made.”

I walk at a casual pace beside him feeling everything but casual and absorbing every detail he’s willing to share, so I offer, “We can talk about it over a pitcher. First round’s on me.”

“I’M GONNA HIT
the head.”

“I’ve got this round, so go ahead,” I say, watching as Austin weaves through the tall-topped tables of the bar.

The waitress flirts, but doesn’t catch my eye. She’s a dime a dozen. Jules is special. When she returns with beer and ice cold mugs, she also delivers a rank basket of old popcorn. This time she doesn’t flirt, catching on I’m not interested.

“So what’d I miss?” Brandon slams his hand down on the table, causing me to jump.

“Fuck, dude!” I look to my side, pissed.

He’s smirking. “Jules bribed me to come down here and keep an eye on you two.”

“Oh did she now?” I ask, “What’s she so worried about?”

“Try that bullshit somewhere else. You have some major balls coming here with Austin.”

“Well,” I shrug. “He invited me. What could I say?”

“Maybe that you used to fuck his girlfriend or dated her for what, like two years?”

“More than three.”

“Yeah, okay man. Are you gonna tell him?”

“I can’t. We have a working relationship. His account has become one of my top priorities.” Truthfully, I don’t even know if I care about the job anymore. I just want Jules. I’ve started over before. I can do it again with her by my side, under me, on top… I’m in way too deep.

Brandon scans the bar. “Shit. You’re really screwing the pooch here.”

“Can you come up with anymore clichés to use tonight? Big balls, screwing the pooch.”

“I’ll try. Here comes boyfriend number three. You don’t hear that every day.”

I laugh out loud.
Fuck, we’re numbered at this point?
He’s right though. “This is pretty pathetic.”

“What’s pathetic?” Austin sits down. “Hey Brandon, good to see you. You guys know each other?”

“Yeah,” I say, “we met at the exhibit.”
More lies.

Austin nods. “Oh right,” he says, then pauses. “Brandon, you staying?”

“Yep, let me grab a mug from the bar.” Brandon walks away and I glance up at the football scores. Texas vs. Oklahoma—a big game rivalry.

Austin leans in and whispers, “What do you think about Brandon? Jules is really close to him, considers him her best friend. Do you find that weird?”

I lean over. “Let the woman have her friends. It will be better in the long run if she has a life outside of yours.”

Fuck! I just gave him relationship advice on how to hold onto Jules. I’m an idiot.

Agreeing, he says, “I can see that.”

Brandon returns with a glass and three shots. “Down the hatch, men.” I roll my eyes at his abuse of common phrases. We set the empty glasses down. I turn my attention to the large screen hanging over the bar and the blonde bartender who has been keeping her eye on me since I sat down. Brandon announces, “OU has the lead. They have home field advantage.”

“Not for long. Texas can take’em. They have the determination to win,” I say, watching the screen.

“You wanna bet?” he asks.

“I’ll put fifty on Texas.” I look Brandon in the eyes, suddenly feeling like we’re wagering on more than the game.

“Deal.”

“I’m a baseball guy,” Austin interjects.

We both look at him.
Loser.
Needing to
get this conversation back on track, I ask, “So Asia for three weeks, huh?”

“Yeah,” Austin says. “My company had built a strong connection over the last four years, but it’s not a viable source anymore. They’ve changed leadership and owners and it’s a mess. I need to go and sort shit out before it blows up completely.”

Brandon gives him no reprieve. “And Jules? Didn’t you promise her that you wouldn’t have any more long trips until the New Year?”

Austin drinks his beer, setting it down and wiping away some of the sweat running down the outside of the glass. “Guess she talked to you about it.”

“We’re close,” Brandon replies.

“Apparently.” Austin sounds a little defensive. It’s good to see him shaken up. “But yes, I did promise her that, which is why she’s pissed.” He looks at Brandon and then me, and asks, “Can I ask you something man to man here? I don’t want this getting back to her, but maybe you know where her head’s at on this.”

Brandon nods. He drains the last of his beer as does Austin.

A different waitress sets another round of shots in front of us. “These are compliments of the bartender and myself, gentlemen.” She balances her tray on her hip, hand on Austin’s shoulder. “You guys meeting anyone else here tonight?”

Brandon smiles. “I’m not, Austin’s taken and I’m not sure about him,” he says, pointing at me.

Everyone is still staring at me, waiting.

Finally Austin asks, “You and Jacqueline seem to have a good rapport.”

“Work rapport. That’s it. We’re strictly co-workers.”

The waitress winks at me, sliding her hand across the back of Austin’s shoulders and resting her body against my arm. “So you’re single?”

“Yeah, I am,” I reply, glaring at the table. I hate that answer, more and more with each passing day. It makes me want to bolt, to run to Jules and tell her everything. Confess every sin and then my darkest secrets. But I can’t, so I pick up my shot instead and down it.

Brandon winks and placates her. “Thanks. We’re just going to get back to our sports talk.” She walks away, leaving him with a wink and a smile.

As I take a gulp of beer, Austin doesn’t miss a beat and asks Brandon, “Is Jules a traditional girl? I mean, I’m ready… well, I want her to move in with me—”

The beer lodges itself down the wrong pipe and I choke on it, hacking and coughing. Austin whacks me on the back to help. “Wow,” I manage, my throat raw from the coughing, my heart aching over the reality. “That’s a big step. I thought you hadn’t been together that long.”

“You must be a commitment-phobe, Dylan. I’m not. That’s why my business is as successful as it is. I see something good and I act. Why sit around and wait for someone else to steal your idea or worse,
steal your girl
? Know what I mean?”

Irritated, I ask, “Women are like acquisitions to you?”

“No.” Austin laughs loudly. “Just why sit around when you know it’s right.” I grab my beer as he continues, “I’m thinking of asking her to marry me, which is why I’m wondering if she’d rather do the whole move-in thing first.”

I spew my beer all over the table, droplets flying, my heart leaving my chest.

“What the fuck, Somers?” Austin jumps from his stool.

Brandon practically rolls off his barstool he’s laughing so hard. Easy for him to laugh. He has no shot in hell with Jules.

“I, I… I, fuck, sorry,” I say, standing while waving the waitress over to bring towels to wipe up the mess.

“Dude, it’s fine. Settle down,” Brandon adds, snickering.

Another minute or two and a wipe down of the table and we’re sitting around again like nothing happened. But my heart is still racing as my mind goes into overdrive. “I think she’s more of a traditional girl,” I speak up though I wasn’t asked. “I don’t see Jules wanting to skip a step.” I need to say something to discourage this marriage idea. “You should take things slow.”

“Maybe I should since I don’t know if she even wants to get married,” Austin says, looking at me.

“Maybe you’re not ready for the next step then,” Brandon speaks up.

Austin looks down, turning his mug around on the table. “I need to talk to her. I think if we lived together the travel thing wouldn’t be such a big deal. We’d see each other more when I’m home.”

The waitress sets down three more shots. “These are from the ladies in the corner booth.”

We all lean back and see four women waving at us. We laugh, send a wave their way, then take the shots. Austin makes a face, then says, “Fuck that’ll put hair on your ass.”
Amateur.

Brandon cracks up before correcting him. “I think the saying is it will put hair on your chest.”

“I’m a real man,” Austin says, sitting up. “I already have hair on my chest.”

Brandon looks around, Austin and I realizing he’s the kind of guy who shaves his chest by his reaction. “Oh shit, man,” I joke, pointing at him.

“The girls love it, so suck it.” He’s defensive, but still laughing.

Austin looks for the waitress. “Do they serve food here?”

I respond, “I’ll go see if they have anything.” The more I drink, the more devious I become. With just a few drinks in him, he’s sharing so much. Wondering how much he can handle, I decide to put him to the test. With another round of shots in hand, I return to the table. “Drink up, ladies. There’s no food. Liquid dinner tonight.”

Brandon elbows him. “I’ll bet ya twenty that I finish first.”

“You’re on,” Austin replies before grabbing his shot glass and downing it.

I laugh as he sways on his stool. The man definitely cannot handle his liquor. Thirty minutes later, Austin is practically asleep on the table while Brandon and I argue over the game again.

Texas took the lead in the third quarter and he just can’t come to terms that the home field advantage makes no difference when you’re heart is in it. Much like life.

“We should probably get him back to Jules,” Brandon says, poking Austin and only receiving a groan in return.

Shaking my head at the sad sight before me, I say, “She’s gonna be pissed.”

“Yeah, at him,” he laughs.

Standing up, I laugh too, even if I do sway a bit myself.

Austin’s heavy, about my size, but dense with muscle. The dude works out and it’s a bitch to get him back to Jules’ building. When we do, we bang on the door. Jules answers dressed only in a skimpy top and sleep shorts. She used to dress like that when we were together, when she was mine. She covers her mouth, gasping at the site of Austin, lagging, hanging between me and Brandon.

“You got him drunk!” She looks between me and Brandon, equally angry at us both.

“He got himself drunk, Jules,” Brandon pipes up, slurring.

“You’re gonna pay for this, Brandon. No banana bread for you.”

“You promised,” he complains as we drag Austin inside and dump him on the couch per Jules’ request.

She crosses her arms in defiance. “He can sleep out here since he got drunk on what was supposed to be our night together.”

The prisms catch my eye and I walk to the window. With a gentle tap to the prisms, I watch as they swing back and forth. Jules is behind me griping at Brandon, holding him responsible. She has expectations of him, of their friendship, but none of me. The door clicks closed, but I don’t look back. Brandon’s gone and the apartment is quiet.

I gulp, not able to hide in the silence that fills the air behind me. Her fingers slide over my shoulder, her palm coming to rest there as she whispers, “Dylan.” When I turn my head, she’s standing close, her body pressing lightly against the back of my arm. “We should talk.”

I’m buzzed, but attempt to pretend I’m not. “Yes, we should.” When she doesn’t continue, I add, “But not tonight. Maybe next week.” I’m thinking it would be best not to have this conversation in the state I’m in.

Jules’ hand slides down to my forearm. I love her touch and it makes me want to kiss her. My eyes drop quickly to her pert nipples, teasing me under the thin cotton of her top. I let my gaze linger before tracing up her body until I see the beauty of her face again. Her lips, wanting, waiting. Her eyes, urging me to kiss her.

I made the mistake of kissing her when she didn’t want me to before and paid the price by not seeing her for six months.
Am I willing to risk it again?

She makes the decision for us both and kisses me. Grabbing me by the neck and pulling me down to meet her in the middle of the space previously dividing us. My hands hold her waist and our tongues meet.