Between You & I

by Susan Cairns

  Reid takes the stick but bends toward my ear. “It’s not looking to promising for us.”

  “I told you, they’re hustlers. Casey has literally made hundreds off of scamming poor unsuspecting guys who think there’s no way a woman could wipe the table with their asses.”

  “Thank god we didn’t put any money on this then.”

  “True, but we’ll be buying them drinks when we lose.”

  “That I can handle.” Reid steps away from me to line up his shot.

  His turn isn’t anything like Casey or Josh’s. He’s able to get another two balls in for us, but sadly, we’re not able to keep up. Casey clears the rest of their balls and sinks the eight ball in her next turn. Surprisingly, she keeps her gloating to a minimum, just giving Reid her drink order before heading over to claim the next game on the dart board.

  After clearing the remaining balls from the table, Reid steps over to the table where I’ve been watching. “Is she just as good at darts?”

  “Don’t let her talk you into putting money on the line. Her pool game was on point, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she wipes the dart board with our faces too.”

  “I thought we did pretty good keeping up with them.”

  “Reid, they cleared the table in three rounds; we had more than half our balls left. How do you think that’s keeping up?”

  He shrugs. “Okay, maybe we didn’t, but I bet if it was just Josh and me, I could take him.”

  “Do I hear a challenge coming on?”

  “Maybe. Would you put money on that?”

  “Possibly, but for now I’m going to stick with drinks.”

  “That’s probably a good idea. Anyway, I’m getting this round. You need a refresher?”

  “You got last round. I’ll get this one since it’s my fault we sucked so bad.” I finish off my drink then slam the glass back down on the table in front of me.

  Reid shakes his head. “Not true, we played against a professional pool player. We didn’t have a chance.” He steps away from the table, his hand at the small of my back to guide me along with him.

  “You know, she probably should go pro…”

  “Yeah, but then people will know who she is and she won’t be able to hustle them.”

  “True story,” I say as we step up to the bar and wait for Fran.

  “Grab your card. I’m getting the rest of Casey’s drinks tonight.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I owe her for putting this together,” Reid clarifies. When Fran stops in front of us, Reid orders drinks for our group.

  “She can pay for her own damn drinks,” I say. “Plus I need to leave the tab open for my drinks.”

  “Leave it open for your drinks then, but Fran, put Casey’s on mine.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. You don’t owe her for doing something we do every Friday, anyway.”

  “Something you do, but if she didn’t throw together this makeshift happy hour, I’d be sitting at home in my underwear, nursing a beer and catching up on Game of Thrones or playing video games,” Reid says, and I bite my lips so a giggle doesn’t slip out. “So yeah, I owe her.”

  “Game of Thrones in your underwear, is that something you do often?” I ask, still trying to keep my laughter inside.

  “Maybe…” He gives me a devious smirk. “Comfort is key.”

  “Maybe so, but I don’t think I’d be admitting that to my coworkers.”

  “We’re not at work.” He grabs mine and Casey’s drinks, hands them to me, then goes back for his and Josh’s.

  I’m not sure what to say, since the tone in Reid’s voice isn’t playful but doesn’t seem serious either. Maybe it’s flirty. I’m not really sure how to read him, so I head back to our table, meeting Casey halfway.

  After depositing the drinks, we saddle up to the dart board and proceed to get our asses kicked again, managing to have a great time while doing it. Throw for throw, Reid and Casey heckle each other while Josh and I roll our eyes and attempt to keep up. By the end of the first game, I’m surprised that we’re only down by a couple points. Reid is much better than I thought and ends up giving Case a run for her money.

  True to his word, after playing another game of pool against Josh and still losing, Reid heads to the bar and closes out his tab. He pays for not only all of Casey’s drinks but all of mine too. I’m too tried and a little too drunk to argue with him, so I grab my card from Fran and let her know I’ll pick my car up in the morning. Then I head out the door, meeting Josh and Casey in the parking lot.

  “We walking?” Casey yells from where she’s leaning against my car.

  “Yeah, I guess that means you and Josh are taking the couch?”

  “Yep,” she answers with a hiccup.

  “Hey”—Reid gently grabs my elbow—“I can give you a ride.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m only about half a mile down the road. We’ll be fine, it’s not our first time at the Rodeo,” I wink at him, hoping it’s not too dark for him to see.

  “Really, it’s not a big deal.”

  “It’s fine, we’ll see you Monday.” I link my arm with Casey’s, pulling her and Josh away from my car toward my house.

  Looking over my shoulder, I see Reid standing next to my car, watching us walk away, so I smile at him. But I can’t tell if he returns it, although I do see him shake his head before turning away. Something shifted tonight. I’m hoping that it just makes things easier at work, but I’m not sure that’s all of it. At this point, what I’m hoping is that Casey loses the bet.

  Chapter Eight

  Reid

  Jennifer’s alarm clock wakes me at the ass crack of dawn, or at least that’s what it feels like. When I got home from the bar last night, she was sleeping, so I quietly took off my clothes then slipped into bed beside her. I can’t even explain the feeling I had when she turned and hugged my middle as she snuggled closer to me. She’s taller than Taylor, a little more curvy, and definitely doesn’t smell as sweet. Nothing about the way we were lying felt right. Now, I’m fighting to keep my eyes closed while I wait for her to leave for work. I know she has something planned for us this afternoon. She mentioned earlier in the week that she was going to be working until about one, then we would walk around the neighborhood before going downtown to check things out. It had sounded like a good idea, something I even wanted to do, but now all I want is for Taylor to be the one showing me around and taking me to the places she likes, not Jennifer.

  After the condo door slams, I know sleep isn’t going to come back, so I throw back the covers and sit up, scrubbing my hand over my face. Crossing the hall to the bathroom, I go through the things I need to get done this weekend to be ready for work and decide to get everything done this morning so I can spend some quality time with Jennifer. I need to give her my time, get to know her in her element, and hopefully I can knock these thoughts of Taylor out of my head.

  After taking a piss, I head into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. The smell was another reason I wasn’t getting back to sleep. As I come around the corner, the first thing that catches my eye is a piece of paper under a mug.

  “Why am I not surprised?” I say, hating the tone in my voice.

  I should be happy Jennifer’s putting so much effort into keeping me in the loop, unlike me, who made plans to go out with my coworkers and didn’t even bother telling her. That is, not until I got a text a little after eight asking where I was and if I had eaten. I felt like a complete ass, so I fired off a text letting her know about the happy hour and apologizing that I forgot to tell her. It was honestly an oversight; I’ve never had to answer to anyone before. That’s the number one reason I shouldn’t be annoyed that Jennifer left me a note, but I can’t help it; her concern makes me feel like a child.

  Grabbling the mug, I flip it over then fill it. I take a long drink of the caffeinated life fuel before picking up the note to see what Jennifer said.

  Reid-

  I’m working until on
e, so I’ll be home around one thirty. I was thinking that we’d walk around the Elmwood Village and grab a bite for lunch. Make sure you wear comfortable shoes!

  -Jennifer

  Again, considerate, but the fact that she told me we were going to walk around tipped me off to wearing comfortable shoes. I don’t need to be reminded. I throw the note on the counter then grab my coffee and take another long sip before heading back to the bedroom.

  Crossing the threshold, I look for the pile of clothes I left on the floor last night, but they’re not there. I move to the hamper and see they’re right on top. I guess that answers my earlier question—apparently Jennifer is going to clean up after me. Again I should be glad, but it’s just another thing I’m find annoying.

  “Fuck!” I yell into the empty room. I need to get my shit together. I’ve already done this mental pep talk more than once, yet here I am again.

  After slamming my coffee mug onto the dresser, sloshing some over the side, I grab the hamper and dump it in the middle of the room. I sort my clothes into piles for dry cleaning and washing, then I head down the hall to the laundry room. Once the first load is started, I go back to the bedroom to scoop up the rest of the clothes and shove them into the dry cleaning bag Jennifer left out for me.

  Before finding something to throw on for the day, I check the weather app on my phone. It’s early May in Buffalo, which apparently means that just because it was nice yesterday doesn’t mean it won’t snow today. The sun image spans each time slot for the whole day, although the temp doesn’t seem to coincide with a nice day, only going up to a whopping fifty-five degrees at three o’clock.

  Inside the closet, I gather a pair of jeans, a Northwestern T-shirt, and a long-sleeved button-down, then I take everything across the hall to the bathroom. I drop my clothes on the closed toilet lid before turning back to the sink and looking at myself in the mirror for a minute. I will the thoughts I had of Jennifer before meeting Taylor to reenter my head. But as soon as her name crosses my mind, I can’t seem to think about anything else.

  With Taylor’s young, beautiful face at the forefront of my mind, I pull my shaving kit from the medicine cabinet and go to work trimming my scruffy beard. Thinking of the way her shirt and jacket rode up her back every time she bent over the pool table, giving me the most amazing view of her perfect ass. The creamy white skin of her lower back taunting me with every move she made. By the time I’m done, I’m sporting a half chub, I’ve cut myself twice, and I fucked up the line so I had to thin my beard more than I normally would.

  Slipping my hand behind the shower curtain, I turn the hot water on as high as it’ll go, although right about now, I’m thinking a cold shower would be better. I drop my boxer briefs then reach back to flip on the cold water, testing the temperature before stepping under the stream. I tip my face up, close my eyes, and let the warm water run over my face, washing away the now-dry blood. As the water trickles down my cheeks, I think of how amazing Taylor would look standing in front of me doing the same.

  In an attempt to clear my head, I lean my forearms against the cold tile wall and take a couple deep breaths. I try to conjure up an image of Jennifer—I think about the first time we met in person, how beautiful she looked and how sweet she was. But it’s no use. As soon as I close my eyes, her face is replaced by one that belongs to a fiery blonde. One who has done nothing but give me a run for my money since the minute I met her.

  With a mind of it’s own, my right hand slips down the wall, making a beeline to my half-hard dick. It’s been so long and I’m so wound up, I’ll probably blow my load with one touch. I grab my cock, squeezing my shaft, pulling my hand up and over the head. But it’s not enough. I need something… stepping back from the wall and the spray, I look around the tub for something to use as lube. Jennifer’s conditioner is on the small shelf in the corner, but it’s the last thing I want to smell while I’m thinking about Taylor and what I’d like to be doing with her instead. So I grab the bar of Irish Spring from the opposite shelf and work up a lather between my hands.

  When bubbles crawl up my wrist, I drop the bar then grip the base of my cock hard. Stepping back under the spray, I make the water beat down on the base of my neck and back as I lean forward. Stroking myself, I picture Taylor bending over the pool table. Only we’re not in the bar, she’s here in front of me, bending at the waist, offering her perfect, creamy white ass to me. I brush my thumb over the head of my dick, mixing the bead of precum with the soap as I rub the tension out of my aching dick. I think of when Taylor turned her head to look back at me before she took every shot, as if she was waiting for me to step up behind her and claim her.

  Flattening my other hand against the tiles, I increase my speed. The image of Taylor’s snarky smirk, the way her hips sway when she walks, how her skirts and those jeans perfectly mold to her ass. “Fuck…” I groan as my balls tighten up between my legs. The last thing I see before stars cloud my vision is the look on Taylor’s face as she walked away from me in the parking lot last night.

  The stream of cum covers my soapy hand as I work to catch my breath and gain control of the aftershocks ripping though my body. Once the twitching subsides, I step back under the water and clean away the evidence of my orgasm, watching what Taylor does to me circle the bar of soap and drain before being sucked into oblivion.

  It’s only a quarter to twelve when I make it back from the dry cleaners. Even though my stomach is rumbling—probably from my workout in the shower—I’ll wait for Jennifer. I hope lunch is the first thing she has planned for our afternoon. Instead I grab my usual seat on the end of the sectional and fire up the next GOT episode.

  The sound of the door bouncing off the wall—like it does every time Jennifer comes home—has me springing into action. Meeting her, I take her laptop bag while using my foot as a door stopper.

  “Hey,” she says, leaning in to give me a quick kiss. “Sorry, I really tried to get out of there before one, but this case is a giant time suck. If I hadn’t set my alarm, I probably would have never made it home.”

  “It’s fine, I was just catching up on Game of Thrones while I waited for you,” I respond as we step into the room, letting the door close.

  “Oh yeah, how many episodes did you get in?” she asks, looking around me at the TV.

  “Uh, maybe half an episode. I guess I was tired,” I say, taking a quick glance at the TV.

  “Again, my fault. I was trying to be quiet this morning, but I know I woke you,” Jennifer says while taking her bag back so she can go drop it in the office.

  “Don’t worry about it. My body always wakes me up early anyway. So I read your note. So what’s the game plan?”

  “Well”—she crosses the room, raising her voice as she walks down the hall—“I was thinking we could grab something for lunch first, if you haven’t eaten already?”

  I shake my head, even though her back is to me. “Nope, I was waiting for you.”

  “Thank god, I’m starving.” She reappears, holding her stomach. “So I was thinking we could walk down to ETS for lunch, then just walk around Elmwood Village.”

  “Sounds good to me. Do you need to change?” I ask, noticing that she’s wearing a pair of jeans and a tucked-in button-down.

  “I’m just going to change my shirt and put some sneakers on. Don’t worry, I’ll be fast.”

  “Okay, I’m ready whenever you are,” I call as she runs back down the hall toward the bedroom.

  As promised, Jennifer only takes about five minutes to get changed, then we’re heading out the door. Instead of going out to the back parking lot, she pulls me toward the front then down the sidewalk, letting the door slam behind us. After making a right, we fall into step beside each other, which feels somewhat awkward, so I grab her hand and lace our fingers together. Even if it’s not the hand I want to be grabbing, it’s the one I should be holding.

  Jennifer gives me a beaming smile then steps in closer to me, leaning her head against my shoulder as we wal
k in comfortable silence. We go just a few blocks before the ETS sign comes into my line of vision.

  “So before I commit to eating then walking, I need to know what ETS is?” I ask, giving Jennifer’s hand a squeeze.

  “It’s Elmwood Tacos and Subs. Don’t worry, nothing that should make walking around uncomfortable.”

  “Are you serious?” I ask, and she lifts her head from my shoulder, giving me a questioning look. “It’s Mexican and I’m a guy. There’s nothing that screams comfortable about that situation.”

  “It’s not authentic Mexican, it’s tacos, or you can get a sub.”

  “Nah, I’ll give the tacos a try. Hopefully they won’t wake the beast in my gut. And if they pass the test, we’ll have to make this a weekly stop.”

  “Oh, they’ll pass the test. But there’s a food truck that gives them a run for their money. We’ll have to make it to ‘Food Truck Tuesday’ this summer so you can put them to the test too.”

  “Sounds like my kind of Tuesday,” I say, opening the restaurant door for Jennifer, then following her inside.

  “They start closer to summer, but you’ll have to get out of work early because it’s downtown.”

  “So it’s really a thing, huh?” I ask at the counter, looking at the menu posted overhead.

  “Yeah, it’s a weekly thing. They have music and beer. I’ve only been once, but it was a pretty good time.” Jennifer crosses her arms as she looks up at the board.

  “Sounds like it would be, it has the three main ingredients.”

  “Oh yeah, and what are they?” she asks, looking at me with a small smile.

  “Beer, food, and music. Nothing more needed for a perfect night. Except maybe some good company,” I add with a wink.

  “Good to know.”