Page 18 of The Work Boyfriend

I couldn’t tell if the current running between us was fueled by my anger or if it was amped-up natural attraction. Whatever it was, I couldn’t slow down my emotions. I was so mad, I needed to not be at the bar anymore. “I’ve got to go. Merry Christmas.”

Stopping Beth on her way to meet Garrett at the bar, I made up something about needing to get some last-minute presents for Rob’s family.

“Come on, it’s only a few minutes,” Beth said. “I wanted you to be there when I told Garrett.”

“Rob texted that he’s desperate for me to get home. We’ve got dinner at his mom’s tonight. I can’t be late.”

“Stressful.”

“I’ll see you at the party on the thirty-first. Have a terrific holiday. I’m so happy for you, honestly.”

We hugged, and Beth almost squeezed the life out of me. “I’m so going to make you a member of the wedding party.”

Good, kind Beth. She deserved every bit of happiness that was handed to her, and I didn’t want to be that selfish friend who met good news with unapologetic misery.

I didn’t look back at Garrett on my way out, but I could feel his eyes on me, like they were always going to find me in a room, and for the first time in our work boyfriend relationship, I didn’t want them there, making me feel like a fool.

Chapter 5

THE COLD AIR did me good as I walked along Bloor Street in the general direction of my apartment before turning south at Philosopher’s Walk. I stopped in at a pub on Harbord where I knew no one from work would be, as I couldn’t face just going home. Drowning my sorrows took longer than expected, and though at least two of the pints were free from generous revelers who appreciated flirting on my terms, I spent all my mad money for the week. I stumbled the rest of the way home, the cold air sobering me up ever so slightly. The elevator up to our floor took forever, and by the time I opened the front door, Rob was already standing there, coat on, bags packed, and a stern look on his handsome face.

“You’re drunk?”

“Tipsy,” I said. “Not drunk.”

“My mother’s going to kill you.”

“How’s she going to be able to tell?”

“Are you kidding me? You can barely stand up and you’re doing that whole goofy smiling thing you do when you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Three pints.”

A little white lie. I wasn’t in the mood for Christmas. I wasn’t in the mood for any of it, not the presents, not the food, not any of it. I was lying. My sister was pregnant. Beth was engaged. Garrett was a liar. My head hurt. My heart hurt.

“Two too many.”

“Are you being serious? I’m not slurring my words. I don’t smell like beer. We were celebrating.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Beth got engaged.”

No response. Not even “Hey, that’s nice, that’ll be a fun wedding for you.”

“Pull yourself together, you’ve got eyeliner smudged halfway down your face and if we don’t leave now, we’re going to be late,” he said. “You’d better change too. I’m going to get the car. I’ll pick you up in front of the building in five minutes. If you’re not there, I’m leaving without you.”

“Fine.”

Rob pushed past me and then turned back. “Did you remember to buy a bottle of wine?”

Fuck.

“No,” I said quietly. I started babbling nervously like I did whenever I really screwed something up. “I got all swept up in leaving the office, and I headed right to the pub, and then I took the streetcar home instead of the subway, and I didn’t pass the LCBO, and—”

“Dammit, Kelly, you had one thing on your to-do list, get a bottle of wine for my parents, and you couldn’t even manage that. I’ve been madly rushing around for an hour organizing the presents, packing your overnight bag—and you can’t even do one simple task. How do you survive in the wild? How?”

“There’s a bottle of white in the fridge. We can take that. It’s not like your mother won’t have any wine. It’s your mother we’re talking about.”

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