Page 37 of Falling in Love with Two

Grabbing two glasses, I pour a finger of whiskey into each and hand her one. She throws her head back and swallows hers in one gulp. I refill it as soon as she sets it back on the table.

This time, she picks it up and heads into the living room. Over her shoulder, she says, “Bring the bottle.”

I grab the whiskey and follow her. Instead of sitting on the couch, she sits on the floor on one side of the coffee table, so I sit on the other and set the bottle between us.

She points at my chest. “How’s that feel?”

“It’s sore…especially with my shirt rubbing against it.”

She takes a sip of her drink. “It’ll be worse tomorrow.”

“Fantastic. Something to look forward to.”

She looks me up and down. “You could just take it off. The shirt, I mean.”

Raising an eyebrow, I ask, “You want me to take my shirt off?”

“Merely for your comfort,” she says with a cute little smirk.

I sit up so that I can pull the tee over my head. Leah tries to hide it, but I catch her looking.

“So,” I begin. “That thing you were drinking to forget about the other night—did that ever get any better?”

She guzzles the rest of her drink. “What do you think?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah, that’s okay.”

“I’m a really good listener,” I tell her.

“Problem is that I’m not a very good talker. Well, unless it’s shit-talking. I’m an expert in that.”

“I never would have guessed,” I tease.

She gives me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Her thumb taps on the side of her glass as if she’s waging a war with herself as to how much she wants to let me into her world.

For a woman who oozes confidence and looks tough as nails, she manages to show the slightest crack of vulnerability.

But I don’t push. She’ll share if she wants to.

Finally, she says, “Due to recent events, I’m going to have to find a new place to live. Things have just been a little stressful.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah. It’s a very long convoluted story that I don’t really want to get into. But that’s the basic gist. And instead of dealing with it, I just want to avoid it a little while longer.”

“I understand,” I say, refilling her glass.

We are silent for a moment because I’m not quite sure what to say.

She’s the first one to speak again. “Sometimes, life is just an endless supply of bad news.” The words are in barely more than a whisper. I’m not sure the words were meant for me to hear.

“Do you have any family you could stay with?” I ask.

She looks at me. “Dylan, I need to say something.”

“Alright,” I say, refilling my glass.

---