Page 34 of Drunk Girl

“Good evening,” our server greets us. “Can I start you all out with some beverages? Maybe a couple of pitchers of margaritas for everyone to share?”

“That would be perfect. Let’s go with two to start with, as well as a pitcher of strawberry daiquiri,” Nick tells him, knowing my dislike of tequila.

“Right away. Would you like any appetizers while you decide on dinner?” he asks. Nick’s dad, Donald, orders some queso for everyone to share.

We fall into conversation while we wait for the drinks and appetizer to come, which continues while we wait for our main meals and throughout the rest of our time at the restaurant.

“We’re so happy for you,” Barb tells me in the parking lot as she pulls me in for a hug before we part ways.

“Thank you. I was so nervous that they weren’t going to offer me the position. So, I’ve been on cloud nine since our meeting at the end of the day today.”

“I’m sure they were elated to offer it to you. Sounds like it, if they offered you a raise after just a month,” Barb states.

“I know. As I said at dinner, I was shocked about that. But I guess they had to pay the temp agency an even higher rate while I was their employee, so they were able to afford to pay me a little more and still not be spending as much as they were with the agency.”

“That’s usually how it goes. The temp agency has to make money somehow, and that’s how they do it.”

“I think I’m most excited about the tuition reimbursement. I’ve really been thinking about returning to school and getting my degree.”

“That’s so amazing. You let us know if you need help with any of that,” she tells me, and I’m still so shocked at how easily Nick’s family has accepted me into the fold, as if I’ve always been a part of their family.

“Thanks,” I tell her, doing my best to hold back the tears I can feel starting to form. I swallow down the emotions as we say our final goodbyes.

“Proud of you,” my mom says, pulling me into a hug once Donald and Barb are in their car and pulling away.

“Thanks, Mom,” I tell her, hugging her tighter.

“I’m guessing that you won’t be coming home tonight?” she asks as we break apart.

“No,” I tell her as Nick sidles up next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “I’m going to go home with this guy.”

“No problem. I figured that was your plan. I’m surprised you haven’t just moved out yet,” she says on a chuckle.

“I practically have. I think ninety percent of my things are already at his place.”

“You know, babe, you could move the last ten percent of your things in and just admit that we live together,” he says. He’s been telling me that now for the past week or so. And it’s true. But it also feels like it’s way too soon for us to be officially living together. So much for my plans to take a break from men after Chris cheated on me. It’s hard to believe that that happened only a month and a half ago. Feels like it was years ago.

“I know,” I huff.

I’ve heard this every day. He’s starting to wear me down, but I keep holding out and not committing to it. I don’t know why, he’s nothing like any of the guys that I’ve dated. He’s completely different, and it sometimes still catches me off guard how sweet he can be to me. How his priority is me. What I want, how I want things, what I think about things. Not what I can do for him or how quickly can I make him come. He doesn’t treat me like I’m his live-in maid or cook.

Hell, the guy gets mad when I toss in his dirty clothes and do the laundry while he’s at work. He’s adamant I don’t need to do things for him, and I have to reiterate that if I’m offering, it’s because Iwantto, just like he wants to do things for me. We’re a team, and the more time that goes by, the more we fall into an easy rhythm together.

The last time I slept at my mom’s, I tossed and turned all night, and got the worst night of sleep I’d had in weeks. I missed having his warm, strong body wrapped around me. I missed rolling over in the morning when my alarm went off and kissing him before I slipped out of bed to get ready as quietly as I could as he slept, then kissing him goodbye once more before I left for work each morning.

“I’m off this weekend, we should do lunch together,” my mom suggests.

“I’d love that. I’ll call you Friday night and we can finalize our plans.”

“Talk to you then,” she says before retreating to her own car a few spaces down from us.

“Ready to head home?” Nick asks, then places a kiss to my forehead.

“More than ready,” I tell him. I’m still feeling good from the two glasses of daiquiri I had with my dinner. Between the nine of us, we easily polished off the three pitchers of drinks he ordered for us as we enjoyed our meal.

Once home, I place our leftovers in the fridge then join Nick on the couch.

“Thank you for tonight,” I tell him as I slip into his embrace. He’s lying down on the couch and I’m facing him, our chests resting against each other’s as our legs intertwine.

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