Page 38 of Due Diligence

Smirking, Cassie ignored my comment and instead turned her attention to the bartender. She held up two fingers, motioning for another round.

“Not done?” I asked.

“I’m just getting started,” she responded. She nodded at the bartender. “Put it on his tab, please.”

I didn’t object. “You’re welcome.”

Smugly, she pushed a beer in my direction. “Okay, I have to beat you in a chugging contest. I will literally never forgive myself if I lose to a guy who didn’t even finish college.”

For some reason I winked at her, which was something Ineverdid. “I feel bad for you if you think all the best drinking happens in college.”

“Oh, are you telling me Marcus Fitz goes hard? So surprising. Alright. New stakes: If I win, I get to ask you anything I want and you have to answer. And if you win—”

“If I win, I want the same opportunity. I ask, you answer.”

Swirling her beer in her hand again, she raised an eyebrow. She was fucking cute when she did that—when she gave me that curious, surveying look. “You sure you don’t just want a blowjob?”

I choked on nothing. My throat immediately tightened and I couldn’t remember how to breathe. I coughed into my elbow, gasping for air while Cassie laughed out loud at me.

“Oh my god, I was kidding,” she insisted. “Do you need water? I didn’t expect you to self-destruct.”

“I’m fine,” I assured her, waving her off as I cleared my throat. My voice came out hoarse and labored. Using my fist, I patted my chest a couple of times. “You’re an asshole though.”

“Takes one to know one.” Cassie held up her beer. “Stop stalling. Are you ready?”

“Cheers.”

One.

Two.

Three.

This time, I let her win. I could have easily beaten her. Even with my coughing fit a few seconds ago, I had this one in thebag. She was adamant about this question though—to the point where I needed to know what she so badly wanted to learn about me.

“Suck it,” she declared when she crumpled up her empty cup. “I knew I could beat you.”

Leisurely, I downed the remainder of my beer and put the empty cup on the bar. That was my fifth drink and I may as well have been floating. My body felt loose, all the way to my lips. I fucking loved this feeling. It had been a long time since I had been drunk like this.

“Congrats, princess. You earned it.”

“Clearly,” she remarked, nodding her chin at my cup. She wasn’t fooled by my act, but neither of us would say that out loud.

“Go ahead. What did you want to know about me?”

“What’s the deal with the binder?”

Admittedly, I should have seen that one coming. As soon as she asked the question, the smile instinctively drifted away from my face. I looked at Cassie, eyes on hers. Her expression was somewhere between amused and curious. The explanation would be a real buzzkill—and I knew that. But I wasn’t ashamed about seeing a therapist—hadn’t felt that way in years.

“You want the real answer or the one that’s not going to kill the mood?” I asked.

“The real answer. Always.”

I took a deep breath. “It’s a journal. I write about how I’m feeling so I remember what to tell my therapist.”

As soon as she heard this, Cassie’s jaw lowered a fraction of an inch. After a moment, she raised a shoulder. “No shit,” she said.

“Yep.”

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