Chapter 32
Going out with Sammy has had another benefit: I realized how much I missed simply hanging out with people. I tend toward introversion, and with the mental drain of my day job and picking up more Jewelry Box shifts, I got in the habit of not leaving my home for anything other than errands.
Realizing the rut I was falling into, I decide to keep my promise and ask Veronica to get drinks.
“Oh my god, that asshole!” My librarian buddy seethes with righteous indignation on my behalf as I finish telling her about my latest run-in with Fellows. This time, I’d gone to one of his advanced-level classes—per his request—with the intention of spending the period walking them through finding, vetting, and citing primary resources. Instead, I sat in the corner while Fellows went on a thirty-minute tangent, taking up more than half the class. Then, after I did my best to cover everything in my diminished time, he had the audacity to tell me he was expecting a more thorough review and suggested I come to his next class with a better lesson plan.
“There are other professors that do annoying shit, but I swear that guy is the bane of my existence.”
“He’s your nemesis.” Veronica clinks her tequila sunrise against my heavy-on-the-gin gimlet. “I had one of those at my first job. The guy would assign these super research-intensive projects to freshmen, a lot of whom were first-generation so they were just trying to figure college out, and he wouldn’t even invite me to come talk to them! The ones who did find their way into the library were in total panic mode. More than one literally broke down crying in my office because they were so stressed out by the guy.” She shakes her head with a grimace.
“You get it.” I cheers her with my drink and take a long, satisfying sip.
Bitching with someone who understands is one of the most relaxing pastimes. Once again, I feel a tug of regret that I chose to work at a place with an almost non-existent staff. I’d love to be able to just pop my head into Veronica’s office to relieve a bit of the day’s frustration.
As if reading my mind, my friend bumps her shoulder against mine. “I passed your resume along to the head instruction librarian, Jeanette. She was impressed and said you’d still have to come in for a short interview, but pretty much told me the job is yours if you want it. Right now, everyone else is planning on covering the opening, but I know they don’t want to be spread thin if they don’t have to.”
Goddess, the offer is tempting. But I still can’t get past the guilt that I’d be leaving the CFF library in even worse shape if I left now.
Please let them be interviewing some quality director candidates, I beg the Dark One. If I knew a director was coming in, I could explore this decision with so much less stress. If I chose to stay, I’d know my workload would be lighter. If I chose to leave, I’d know the library would have the same number of staff it’s had the past year.
“I’ll think about it. You said she’s not due for…?”
“Two more months. And I swear I’ll only bring it up once every time I see you.” Veronica sips on her straw with a teasing twinkle in her eye that has me chuckling.
Wanting to forget about my job nonsense, I happily listen to Veronica regale me with the juiciest gossip from her much larger institution. Academia may be full of book-smart people, but they do some ridiculous shit that’s reality TV-show worthy. At one point she gets off her stool to try reenacting a literal brawl two professors had over lab equipment. The sloppy fake swings she takes, and my inability to stop giggling alerts me that maybe I should have stopped at my second drink and eaten more than the half a plate of bacon cheese fries.
We are both officially drunk.
Which, of course, is why we both order rides, go home, take some aspirin, and go straight to bed.
Ha! Not a chance.
Arms wrapped around each other’s waists, we stumble next door to a karaoke bar where we get our own room and spend the next hour serenading each other with our favorite boy band songs and drinking cheap beer. At some point, Veronica’s girlfriend calls her, then shows up soon after with a smirk.
“This is my Jojo, and I love her!” Veronica declares when the black-haired, tan-skinned woman strolls into the room. The librarian launches herself at the new arrival, peppering her girlfriend’s high cheekbones with sloppy kisses. Jojo hooks Veronica around the waist with one arm and raises the other to wave at me.
“Hi. You must be Ava.”
“At your service,” I say in my most regal voice as I dip in a low, wobbly curtsy that earns a cackling laugh from Veronica.
Jojo’s smile is kind and resigned. “Looks like you need a ride home, too.”
“No, no,” I assure her, stumbling my way off the low stage. “I’ll call my Squid.”
Veronica’s beautiful girlfriend gives me an odd look, but I forget about it as I dig through my purse for my phone and text Sammy to come pick me up. While we wait for him to arrive, Jojo laughingly lets Veronica drag her onto the stage, and the two of them sing a perfect rendition of “WAP.”
“Did someone have a little too much fun?” The question sounds next to my ear in a teasing rasp, and I turn to grin up at the handsome Squid who has magically appeared.
“My Sammy!” I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, tasting a spike of his peanut butter lust even as I breathe in his fresh rain scent.
I love my Sammy, I think to myself, but don’t say out loud because my mouth is busy kissing him.
“That’s Samuel Reyes.” Veronica’s attempt to whisper to Jojo fails because she’s still holding a microphone. I pause our making out and spy a dazed smile on the Squid’s face. “He’s very rich. And good in bed. But Ava doesn’t care about any of that.” Next to me, Sammy snorts, and I lean into his chest. “All she cares about is that he got her a cat.” The librarian pouts at her girlfriend. “You never got me a cat.”
“Time to go home,” Jojo announces.
Veronica and I groan, but eventually let ourselves be herded out of the bar. After tearfully hugging each other goodbye, my library friend climbs into her girlfriend’s waiting car.
“Did you bring the Mustang?” I ask Sammy as I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss the hollow dip at the base of his neck.
Mmm. Peanut butter.
“I-I…yes. Gods, Ava.” Sammy pinches my chin and tilts my head back so I can see his deep blue eyes. “I need to drive. No sexy kisses.”
I jut out my lower lip and he groans.
“No. Fucking hell dimensions.” Sammy rests his forehead against mine. “You look too fucking cute when you do that.”
“I’m not cute,” I inform him. “I’m a sexy stripper.”
“You are sexy,” he agrees. “And cute.” He kisses my forehead. “And drunk. So I’m going to take you back to my place and tuck you into bed.”
“That is not sexy,” I grumble as he leads me down the street to where the beautiful blue convertible is parked. The wind in my hair and the rush of the fast car distract me as we drive. I raise my hands up like I’m on a roller coaster and only bring them down when Sammy asks if I want to drink some water from my amazing blue cup.
The cup Sammy got for me.
I love my Sammy.
But I’m too busy sipping on my straw to say it out loud.
When we get to his giant house, Sammy parks the car and leads me inside, where Kraken sprints up to us, her little paws skittering on the floor as she runs. I pick her up and press her soft body against my cheek until she squirms to get down.
Though he promised to take me to bed, Sammy guides me to the kitchen first and arranges me on a stool at the island. There I watch him dice an onion, peppers, and a tomato. As he sautés the veggies in a pan, Sammy cracks a few eggs in a bowl and whisks them. The savory smell teases my nose, my mouth fills with saliva, and I lean forward to watch him work. His forearms flex as he slips the eggs into the pan and stirs to scramble everything together. With a smooth slide, he transfers the steaming meal to a plate and sets the food in front of me.
I devour the delicious offering under his watchful eye.
Only when I’m fed, watered, and changed into one of Sammy’s T-shirts does he finally fulfill his promise to tuck me in.
“I’m totally down to fuck,” I murmur as my eyes close, lids heavy with happiness.
“Raincheck.” Sammy’s lips brush the corner of my jaw. “I’m beat.”
“Okay,” I sigh, my voice fading off the end of the breath. “Only because you’re tired.”
His chuckle is a soothing balm against my eardrums after the loud karaoke music. Everything about him soothes and comforts me. Makes me feel safe and cared for.
I love my Sammy.
But I drift to sleep before I can say it out loud.