Chapter Thirty-One
Bryan
Liz and Susie stay in the dining room after dinner, a habit that’s evolved in the short time since I started as a waiter in their dorm. It started when I stayed for tutoring with Susie, and then Liz stayed to talk, putting off her work until later.
I finish clearing the tables in no time. The work here is easy compared to the farm or football, and the food is good. My roommates are jealous that I have the gig, except for Eldy. The worst part of the job is the unwanted attention from the girls, except Liz and Susie.
They sit on the windowsill talking in low voices, not that I would pay attention to what they’re saying anyway. I’m torn between wanting to take off and wanting to stay.
After I throw the dirty wet rag in the kitchen sink, I let the cook know I’m done and come back out to confront my two least and most favorite girls on campus. Either way, they’re distractions. And even though the football season is over and I shouldn’t care about being distracted, I can’t turn it off, can’t suddenly ignore the baked-in self-discipline.
“Bryan, I hear you’re not going to the McMahon cocktail party,” Liz says.
“Correct.”
I slip a glance at Susie, but she’s smiling her usual smile, looking comfortable to have Liz do the dirty work of convincing me to go.
“We have some friends at McMahon who got tickets for us plus a few extras for our friends.”
Liz smiles, and I can feel it coming; she’s going to force my hand. “No charge for you.”
“I’m no charity case.”
“No one said you were. But I have a bet with Eldy that you’ll show up in a suit and tie, and it’s worth more than the price of a ticket.”
“Eldy doesn’t think I’ll dress up? Smart guy.”
“Are you sure about that? Because I think you’ll do it,”
Susie says.
“For you, Princess?”
She frowns, and I smirk. I’m a sick bastard for always wanting to spoil her smile, to rile her up and get her out of sorts. I tamp down on the place where that thought leads, the vision of her riled up in my bed, her face contorted with the pleasure I give her?—
“The way I see it, you owe me for all the tutoring.”
Shit. Liz laughs, and they exchange a look.
“I thought the tutoring was out of the kindness of your heart. Were you lying to me, Susie?”
I like saying her name, scolding her, making her squirm.
The smile that slides into place on her face this time is sly because she knows she’s won. Maybe there was never any question.
“I’ll go on one condition,” I say.
She puffs out an exaggerated breath as Liz laughs like a maniac.
“Okay. What’s your condition?”
The buzz that’s always there around the three of us gets louder, deeper, more intense, like someone turned up the volume on our nerve endings, twisted them a notch to make them unbearably taut. I shove my hands into my pockets to stop me from reaching out and touching her.
Then I step close and lower my voice. “You tell me why you want me there.”
I stare at each of them in turn. But I’m mostly watching Susie and all her emotions flood to the surface, and feeling my own churn inside me like the rumble of an earthquake about to happen. I tamp down again, squeezing my hands into fists inside my pockets as I wait for one of them to respond—because I know Susie will.
“I want to see you get drunk for once, to let loose and have some fun,” she says.
Liz squeezes her hand, nodding in agreement. “We both think you work too hard and we want to be your fairy princesses granting you this one night of reprieve.”
The season’s over, and I can afford to go to a party, but can I afford to go to this one where Liz might think it’s about her? It’s not. It’s not about Susie either. Or it shouldn’t be. I’m not right for her.
What it should be about is a break from waiting for word about my prospects for the NFL draft. A break from the tension would be good.
“Maybe I should let loose. I’m getting tired of my own company every night. But I’m not getting drunk.”