The Trouble With Before (19 page)

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Authors: Portia Moore

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BOOK: The Trouble With Before
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Even though my head is confused, my dick definitely isn’t. This isn’t how this is supposed to work. I’m an adult; I tell him what to do, not the other way around.

“And maybe, just maybe, if you’re lucky . . .” She moves her lips to my ear. “It’ll be you that I do it to!”

She pulls back with a wide smile. I swallow hard and let out a deep breath. She saunters out of the room, and I can’t help but smirk.

“Lisa, babe, we’re going out to celebrate you. Get sexy. We’re partying tonight!”

“Huh?” Lisa calls, sounding a little surprised.

“Drinks and food on me,” Hillary adds.

I scratch my head. Since when are Lisa and Hillary friends? And why are we celebrating? Lisa can’t even drink.

Hillary stops in the hall. “I’m going to hop in the shower. Don’t join me.” She says the last part pointedly before heading up the stairs.

I head into Lisa’s room, and she looks at me with an amused grin as she shuffles through her clothes.

“Don’t look at me.” She laughs.

I frown, closing the door behind me. “Why did she say we’re celebrating you? Did you tell her about the . . .”

Her eyes widen in horror. “God, no. I just sort of mentioned I got the job at the school. Well, sort of. I landed a permanent position for at least a month or two, and I’ll sub after that.”

“That’s great!”

She nods and smiles lazily.

“You’re happy, right?” I ask.

She looks up at me, and I can tell something’s bothering her because her eyes look past me instead of at me.

She rolls her eyes at herself. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. What’s up?” I tell her, folding my arms. I spot something glittery on the bed behind her. “What’s that?” I walk toward it, but she snatches it up before I can see. “Now I really want to see it!” I reach behind her, and she scoots back. I hold up my hands. “Okay, you don’t have to show me.”

She relaxes, and I snatch it out of her hand.

“It’s stupid, Aidan. Gosh,” she huffs.

I open up the book with glitter all over the cover. On the inside, I see a title page saying
Falling Princess.

“What’s this?” I ask, flipping through the pages.

“It’s stupid, I told you,” she mumbles.

“Is this what Willa was talking about?” I glance at her, and she nods. “Leese, this is really good.” I look at the drawings, skimming the story.

She grabs it back from me. “Don’t be a jerk, Aidan.”

“I’m serious!”

“You haven’t even read it,” she mutters.

“Well, the drawings are pretty awesome. Let me read it,” I say, and she looks at me in disbelief. “No, really.”

She looks surprised. “Well, you could, but . . . if your life is so boring and you have to read something of mine, I’ve been working on this story, kind of.”

Lisa’s nervous about my opinion? I never would have thought it. “Like a book?”

“Yeah, I write here and there. I don’t do it as much as I used to, but seeing as I’ve been unemployed until today, it’s been helping me sort of.”

“I’ll read it, and you know I’ll tell you if it sucks or not,” I admit, and she giggles.

“Okay. Text me your email address, and I’ll send it,” she says begrudgingly.

I start to head out of the room. “Oh, and are you hanging out with Hillary?” I’m sort of annoyed but intrigued to see the two of them hanging out, especially with alcohol thrown in. Well, only one will be drinking . . .

“I’m sort of afraid to say no to her.” Lisa giggles, and I nod.

“I know what you mean.”

I CONVINCED HILLARY
that instead of a night club, we should head out to a bar and grill. I know without a doubt that Lisa won’t be drinking, so a club probably isn’t the best place for her to be right now.

“Oh my God, we are going to have so much fun tonight,” Hillary squeals. She turns to Lisa. “If I end up dancing on a table or two, don’t let him pull me down.”

Lisa just laughs.

The restaurant isn’t packed since it’s a Tuesday night. We tell the hostess that it’ll be the three of us, and we’re seated pretty quickly in a booth. Hillary slides in first, I sit next to her, and Lisa sits opposite of her.

“I’m so glad you came out with us, girl. I am so ready to let loose,” Hillary announces.

I roll my eyes. “Let’s just keep in mind this place is Michigan laid-back not Chicago laid back. If you get on a table, you probably will end up arrested.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Whelp, it’s a good thing you’re not my boyfriend and don’t get to tell me what to do.” She gives me a bright smile, but her tone is sweet as an angel’s.

“Hi, guys. Welcome to Jack’s Place. Can I start you off with something to drink?” the waitress asks. She’s cute, with naturally curly hair pulled up in a ponytail and soft brown eyes.

I want to kill myself. Hillary can act psycho if we go out and get a waitress, especially a halfway decent one. Apparently in Hillary’s head, every girl wants to screw me and in actuality it’s only more like 80 percent that want to screw me.

“We’ll start with three shots off Patron,” she tells the waitress shortly.

“I’ll have a coke,” Lisa adds.

“A beer. Tap’s fine,” I tell her.

“Our tap’s pretty good,” the waitress says.

I swallow, knowing Hillary is staring a hole into the side of my head.

The server looks between the three of us. “And any food?”

“I’ll take some wings,” I say quickly.

“Quesadillas,” Lisa adds.

“They’re amazing,” Lisa tells Hillary.

“I’ll have an order of those then,” Hillary says, nicer than she’s ever been to a waitress before.

The tension leaves my chest. Maybe this will be a good night.

After the server leaves, Lisa breaks the tension at the table by saying to Hillary, “I really like your color. Did you do it?”

“Yeah. I get so bored though. I don’t use anything permanent, so I’ll have to redo it soon.”

“You did a really good job. I miss my color,” Lisa says solemnly.

“I could do it for you. It’s super easy,”

“Oh my gosh, that would be . . . no, actually I can’t get any color.”

“Why not? You think your job will be weird about it?”

Lisa nods. “Probably.”

Hillary and Lisa talk about all the colors they’ve worn. Between the two of them, they’ve hit almost the whole rainbow. Then they talk about California, where Hillary lived for a few months before starting college. Their conversation is easy, not tense or awkward like it was at breakfast, and I’m barely able to get a word in.

The waitress appears with our shots and passes them out to each of us.

“Oh no, I’m not going to have any,” Lisa says, sliding hers to the middle of the table.

“Oh yes, you are. We’re celebrating!” Hillary protests.

“I’ll take hers.” I pull hers toward me.

Hillary scowls at me. “She’s an adult. She can take her own freakin’ shot!”

“I can take it back,” the waitress offers.

Hillary eyes her and says sarcastically, “I bet you would love to take his shot.”

Here we go.

The waitress looks confused.

“Um, we’ll figure this out. Thank you,” Lisa frees the poor waitress, who scurries from the table as fast as she can.

“Don’t do this today, Hillary,” I mutter.

“Do what? She was totally ogling you. You’re so oblivious. ‘Our tap is so good,’” she mimics the girl’s voice before taking the shot from me and giving it back to Lisa. “We’re doing this, hon.”

“As much as I’d love to, I’m on medication where I can’t drink,” Lisa says regretfully.

Hillary pouts. “Ugh. Well, Aidan and I will toast for you. This would be so much more fun if you could drink though.” She lifts her shot glass, so I lift mine too. “To Lisa and her new job.”

“Hear, hear,” I add.

Lisa grins at me, lifting her Coke.

I down the first shot, and Hillary does the same. I pick up the second shot glass and toss it back too.

“And to me getting fired,” Hillary says cheerily, almost making me choke.

“What?” I ask, confused.

Lisa looks between us, obviously uncomfortable.

“I sort of got fired from the club. It’s no big deal. I can work at any club in Chicago. You’ve seen this body?” She laughs.

“You’re a stripper?” Lisa asks, seemingly serious.

“She means fitness club,” I tell Lisa.

“Hell, maybe not. One of my clients dances, and she told me she’s bringing in over ten grand a month,” Hillary exclaims.

She can’t be serious.

She must be able to tell I don’t like that idea, because she says, “What? It’s my body and I don’t have a ring on this finger.”

Hell, I’m not touching that statement with a ten-foot pole.

“You’re right. You can do what you want,” I say, shaking my head.

“Really? So you don’t care if I dance naked in front of other guys?” she asks angrily.

“You just said it’s your body.”.

“You’re a prick,” she hisses at me.

Lisa giggles nervously. “Um, you guys are making me pretty uncomfortable right now.”

“Okay, tell me, Lisa. If you’ve been dating a guy for almost a year, don’t you think it’s normal, with all of us about to approach thirty, that he wouldn’t stutter at calling you his girlfriend, that he wouldn’t freak out when you show him a ring in the jewelry store you happened to want earrings from . . . ?”

I cover my face with my hands.

“It’s like he wants to break up with me every single month. I’m starting to think he’s bipolar,” she continues.

“You think I’m bipolar?” I ask, confused, laughing now at how ridiculous she sounds.

“What is it then? I just don’t get it. There’s nothing wrong with me wanting to know where this is going. I’ve been sleeping with only you for the past twelve months. That’s longer than I’ve been exclusive with anyone else, so tell me if I should be screwing other people.”

Lisa looks as though she’s trying not to laugh her head off.

“What do you think, Lisa?” Hillary asks, shifting her body away from me and giving Lisa her full attention.

I shake my head to tell Lisa not to say anything, and Hillary glares at me.

“Um, I think that you guys should both be honest about what you want. Maybe it will make things clearer,” Lisa says, clearly ignoring my “don’t say anything” glare.

Hillary whips back toward me. “Yes, that sounds like a fantastic idea. Where do you see us in a year?”

All I want to do is eat some wings and have a few beers. Is that too much to ask? Maybe get sort of drunk and have sex before the night is over with. I take a swig of my beer, ignoring Lisa and Hillary staring daggers into me.

“You see? This is what he does. Whenever I try to have a serious conversation with him about our future, he clams up and then makes me seem as if
I’m
crazy!” She throws her hand in the air as if she’s victorious. “Lauren got proposed to after a year, Aidan. A year!”

“And here we go!” I say angrily. “I’m not Chris, and you’re not Lauren. Is that the only reason you’re pushing so hard, because you want to be married because Lauren is?”

“No! How could you even say that? It’s because . . . because I love you, Aidan. God! How can you be so oblivious?”

I look at her, stunned.
She loves me
? Where the hell did that come from?

She’s never said that before. She tells me she’s crazy about me, and that I definitely believe, but love? I’ve never said that to anyone . . . I don’t even know what love is.

She turns to Lisa. “See? I tell him I love him, and he sits there like he’s trying to figure out a hard math problem.” Hillary turns back toward me. “Give me the keys, and let me out.”

I look at her and see her eyes are full of tears. I feel like a jerk and an idiot. “Hillary, I-I didn’t know . . .”


Let me out!
” she shouts each syllable louder than the last.

Other people in the bar are starting to look at us. I slide out of the booth, and she pushes past me.

“Dinner’s on Aidan,” she says to Lisa before storming out of the restaurant.

“Well, this has been really interesting,” Lisa mutters before drinking the rest of her Coke through the straw.

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