Easy

by Jordan S Gray

  “Are you all right, Ms. Thompson?” a professor asked.

  She took a sip from her water glass and smiled. “Fine.”

  “The mussels are excellent,” Hale said with narrowed eyes.

  Shayler set her glass down, fed up with him already. “I don’t know, they kind of remind me of the fatty gristle on a steak. No matter how much you chew, it doesn’t dissolve, and eventually you need to decide if you’re going to spit or swallow.”

  The room echoed with snorts of laughter, and if she was forced to count, she’d say more than half of them enjoyed the innuendo. She caught the eye of Dean Southern Accent’s wife, and the woman raised her glass.

  “I’ll cheers to that.”

  Shayler reached across the table to clink her glass with the woman’s, and the rest of the table contributed to the growing laughter. Minus the crabby asshole who sat across from her. David leaned in and brushed his lips against her temple, the action sending a wave of heat through her.

  “Now, how did you two meet?” Clifton’s wife asked Shayler after their dinners had been served.

  Shayler sawed into her lamb chop. “David’s my TA in Intro to Crim, and he offered to help me out in the class.” She left out the part about propositioning him and David holding her hair for her in a ladies’ bathroom stall. They probably wouldn’t be interested in all that.

  “I wasn’t aware you’ve been tutoring Ms. Thompson,” Hale said, sitting up a bit straighter.

  David set his water glass down. “I haven’t been. I just help her study once in a while.”

  “Then I guess we should attribute the sudden rise in her GPA to you.” Hale lifted his drink like he was toasting David.

  Shayler bit down on her tongue. Bursting out with something funny was fine, but she wouldn’t get into a debate with her douchebag professor. David stiffened at her side, and she hoped he wasn’t about to stoop to Hale’s level.

  “Everything that she’s accomplished is because of her. She’s very bright,” David said, his voice rougher than she’d ever heard it. And she was only a tad ashamed to admit that she was kind of turned on by it.

  Hale finished off his third drink of the night and flagged their caterer down for another. The rest of the table had grown silent watching the exchange. Thankfully, a TA to Shayler’s right broke the tension.

  “These vegetables are lovely,” she said. “Perfectly roasted.”

  “Are you into vegetables?” Dean Southern Accent asked, and he went right into a story about farming. A story, Shayler thought, that Clifton might’ve wanted to pay attention to if he ever wanted his front yard to look more Secret Garden than Pet Sematary.

  Shayler, however, had no use for the dean’s how-to on growing carrots, so she distracted herself by kicking David’s foot under the table. He kicked back, and then they were playing footsie like they were in middle school. She ran her foot up the side of his leg as best she could, thinking she’d won their little fight, but he fought back dirtier. David put his hand on her thigh, his warmth singing her skin, making her squirm.

  He scratched her hard, like she liked, and Shayler grabbed for her water to cool herself off. A professor chattered about a charity or concert or something her daughter had sang at, but Shayler was focused purely on David and his hands. Good God, she was one touch away from throwing her head back and moaning, and she doubted she’d be able to blame it on the roasted potatoes.

  “Excuse me,” she said suddenly, her chair scraping on the wood floors as she stood. “I need to use the restroom.”

  Clifton pointed out the path, and she followed it carefully until she was away from their line of sight. She jogged the rest of the way up the flight of stairs and down the two halls until she could sink against the wall and swipe at her forehead. David had gotten her so worked up, she couldn’t even appreciate that Clifton’s guest bathroom had an actual Jacuzzi tub. If only she could’ve put those jets to use right now…

  Her mind was so wrapped up with thoughts of David, his smile, his eyes, the way his ears turned pink whenever he was mad or horny, that it took her a few moments to realize the door had creaked open. She jumped, pleased to find herself face-to-face with the man of her daydreams.

  “I was afraid you’d get lost,” David explained, shutting the door behind him.

  Shayler smirked, resting her back against the sink. “As you can see, I didn’t.”

  “You might get lost on your way back.”

  Shayler rolled her eyes and wrapped her hand around his tie, pulling him flush against her. He tangled his hand in her hair, and she held in a sigh. She loved the feeling of being surrounded by him. David bent down and moved his mouth with hers so gently that the sigh came out anyway. He stepped back an inch, and she blinked herself out of the happy haze.

  “I told them I was just checking on you, so I should get back.”

  “What if I get lost on the way back?” she asked with a pout.

  He chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll find your way.”

  “So you didn’t come in here for a quickie?”

  “No. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I was, until you got me all horny.”

  “Sorry.”

  She ran a hand down his suit, wishing she could stay cuddled up in the bathroom with him for the rest of the party. “Don’t be.”

  “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  He kissed her again, lingering for not nearly long enough before he left. She bit her lip and turned to stare at her reflection. Her skin was the same color as her hair, which was also kind of a mess now. Maybe she was … wrong. Maybe being in a relationship wasn’t such a bad thing, was something she could do. Tonight wasn’t so bad, and with David there she was actually having fun.

  She twisted the handle of the faucet, letting the water warm up before she washed her hands. The door creaked again, and she grinned. “I knew you wanted a quickie.”

  “I didn’t know I was that obvious,” Hale said, shutting and locking the door as he blocked her from the only exit.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “What the fuck are you doing in here?” Shayler asked Hale, hoping the curse word made her sound more angry than surprised.

  When she’d heard his voice, she’d been sure her heart was going to stop and she’d drop dead right there. And then the lock had turned and alarms had blared in her brain. Hale strode closer, invading her space.

  “I didn’t know you were seeing my assistant.”

  “That’s because it’s none of your business.”

  He chuckled, but it was an empty, cold sound that was nothing like David’s. She eyed him, wondering how she’d ever found him attractive. He was just some creepy old guy, emphasis on creepy. “It’s all of my business. If you’ve been exchanging sexual favors for test answers—”

  “Excuse me?” Shayler put a hand on her hip, not backing down from the fury in his eyes. “I’m not a scholastic prostitute.”

  Hale fingered one of her curls, and she winced away from him. “Maybe you’re trying to make me jealous,” he mumbled.

  “Trust me, I’m not. Our … relationship has nothing to do with you.”

  “Then you’re a tease,” he said.

  “I’m not a tease. Now, move out of my way.”

  He stepped to the side, in front of the door. Shayler swallowed, prepared to scream and shout until someone knocked it down. Preferably before she kicked his nuts into his throat.

  “That’s right. You’re not a tease, are you? You’re too easy for that.”

  “What?”

  “Your type. It’s easy. You fuck anyone who looks at you.”

  “You, you’re drunk,” she whispered as his breath flooded her nostrils. It was pure alcohol, enough to drown out any sort of garlic or onion he’d eaten.

  “What changed?” he demanded. “My assistant has to be some game for you, in order to get to me.”

  “No.”

  “Then what?” Hale laughed, and the sound was like a
hundred nails being dropped on a porcelain floor.

  “I … I…”

  “You what? Love him?” Hale gestured to the door. “If so, please, be my guest.”

  She looked at the knob, wondering if it was a trick.

  “You can’t do it because you know you don’t. You can’t. You’re like me. We don’t love. We have sex, we take what we need, and we leave.”

  “I’m not like you.”

  “You’re ready for marriage? For kids? You want David’s offspring crawling all over you, crying, keeping you up until five in the morning, while you watch your friends have lives? Are you ready for the sobriety of breastfeeding, the shitty diapers, for cleaning milk out of your hair at the same time your friends are dancing and drinking and living carefree?”

  Tears invaded her vision, pricking the corners of her eyes as she tried to hold them in. It didn’t work. They slid down her cheek and soaked her dress. Kids? Marriage? The thought of it made her sicker than Hale did.

  “You know I’m right, and you know who you are. You aren’t built for this. Good luck running away now.” He shook his head and smacked the knob, letting the door fall open.

  She glanced at the mirror, still gasping for air as she ignored the mascara that trickled down her face in charcoal blobs. Beyond the ruined makeup was a girl she didn’t know. All dressed up at a business dinner, exactly where she’d never wanted to end up. She felt grimy, like she needed to shower the façade off with a gallon of disinfectant. What had she become?

  She ran her knuckles under her eyes to collect some of the mess and took out the bobby pins that were keeping her hair up. A shake loosened the curls. It was better, but still not right. The only thing that seemed right was the idea of leaving and never coming back. Running.

  Shayler tiptoed into the hall and peered around the corner. It was empty. She could hear the chatter from the dinner party. It was a clear getaway. She kicked off her shoes, ran down the path to the foyer, and opened the door.

  She didn’t stop running until she was down the stairs, out of the gated community, and six streets away. Her breath came in waves, sometimes too slow and sometimes too fast. A cramp had lodged itself in her hips, but she kept running. Every step that brought her further from the dinner also eased her nerves.

  Unable to continue, Shayler stopped next to a house with one of those store-bought playgrounds on the side. She gulped down air, but it did nothing but make her stomach hurt more. The one unfortunate mussel made its way back up with the rest of the dinner she’d eaten. She coughed and tugged her hair to the side, not wanting the brown stream to coat her locks.

  Footsteps sounded on the pavement, and Shayler looked up. A man and woman ran out of the house, two kids staying inside behind them. She wiped her mouth on her hand.

  “Are you okay, honey?” the woman asked.

  The man held up a hand and stood in front of her. Protective. David had been protective. She coughed up stomach acid.

  “Do you need us to call an ambulance or a ride to the hospital?” the man asked.

  Shayler shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  “We can—”

  “I’m fine!” she shouted. The tears came back. “I have … people are coming.”

  They retreated back to their house, and she dropped onto the gravel. Someone needed to get her. She opened her purse, the contents jangling as she searched for her phone. Wanting to dial Rebecca was an instant reflex, but she couldn’t. Not this time. Her best friend wouldn’t understand, or worse, would want to talk.

  Shayler needed silence and a way home. She dialed Gigi, who picked up on the third ring.

  “If you’re calling to tell us you won’t be home, I think we—”

  “Gigi, I need a ride.”

  “What? Are you okay? You sound weird.”

  “I just need you to get me. Please.”

  “Text me your address.”

  “Thanks.”

  She stuffed her phone back into the tiny clutch and sat on her hands, waiting. It wasn’t until Gigi’s SUV came speeding around the corner that Shayler could feel her blood pumping again. Everything would be fine. She’d get in the car, drive home, and never look back. Life would be normal again. No kids, no marriage, no suffocating commitment.

  Gigi hopped out of the car to help her in, and they remained quiet on the drive home. Her roommate blasted her favorite hip hop music, and Shayler closed her eyes. She knew there would be questions when she got home, knew she’d have to face all this shit eventually, but for now, she was relaxed.

  It didn’t last. Her other roommates were waiting on the couch when she got home, shouting out questions like they were contestants on Jeopardy. She combated the questions with grunts and stomped to her room.

  They followed, and so did their incessant talking. “We just want to know what happened,” Whitney said.

  “Why’s your mascara all fucked up?” Vivian asked.

  “I need privacy,” Shayler begged.

  “Talk to us,” Gigi muttered.

  “No.”

  “Are you in trouble?” Whitney inched forwards. “Did you get mixed up with the mafia? Gambling? Does someone want to break your legs?”

  “I’m fine!” she screamed. The words were haunting her, echoing in her mind and ringing in her ears like an explosion.

  Just as they started to go away, there were three short knocks on the front door. Shayler clutched her blanket. There was no guessing as to who was on the other side. She knew.

  “Leave me alone,” she called, both to her friends and down the hall, hoping he could hear her.

  Gigi shook her head. “Come on. We can’t fix this.”

  “There’s nothing to fix,” she cried after her roommates.

  The only reply was the sound of a door shutting, and Shayler was glad they’d gone to their rooms. She was alone, thank God. Being near them meant talking, which led to thinking, which led to nothing good. She needed a drink—or five. There was no thinking when drinking was involved.

  “Shayler.”

  She shut her eyes briefly. Yeah, that was definitely David at the foot of her bed, staring at her. Scooting back, she frowned. She needed to be away from him. It was his all his fault, wasn’t it? He’d done this to her, turned her into a sad heap of tears and snot and goo.

  “Why did you leave?”

  “Because this”—she gestured to the dress that was still shackled to her body—“this isn’t working for me.”

  “Not working for you?” He took a step toward her. “What happened? We were fine. Everything was fine.”

  She clenched her fists. He needed to go. Leave. Her vision was clouding again, and she didn’t want to cry anymore. She didn’t want to feel the damn tearing in her chest. “Nothing happened, I’m just done pretending, David. I don’t want to hear you say you love me, I don’t want to cuddle, and I definitely don’t want to go to any fucking dinners with you. I’m … I’m not your wife.”

  “Let’s be calm, all right? Think about this like adults.”

  “Don’t you get it? That’s exactly what I don’t want. I didn’t want any of this!”

  “Please…” His face twisted, and Shayler saw the start of tears form in his usually crinkled eyes. “I love you, and—”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Stop, David,” she whispered.

  “I want to know what you mean. No, I don’t love you, or no, you don’t love me? Because both are true, Shayler. You’re running, and I don’t know why, but you are.”

  “I’m not running, David.” She climbed off the bed. “I’m just sick of you trying to turn me into something I’m not. You can’t guilt me with your love. You can’t change me.”

  “I haven’t made you do anything.”

  “Then why was I playing dress up at a dean’s house? Does that seem like something I enjoy? Like something I would normally do?”

  “I thought you did it because you love me,” he stated.

  The b
luntness rattled her, made her grind her teeth down to stop the sobs. “You don’t understand me. I don’t want to be trapped.”

  “Was I trapping you?” David reached for her, but Shayler tripped backward to avoid him.

  “Stop. Please.”

  “We can figure this out, talk about it. Don’t close off. Talk to me.”

  “You don’t get it. I … I can’t. It’s like Hale said, this isn’t for me. I don’t want the life you want. I want sex and fun, and I’m not gonna be tied down.”

  “Hale said… When did he talk to you?” David’s hand balled into a fist, but Shayler remained quiet. “When, Shayler?”

  “T-tonight.”

  He stared at the ground, and she knew he was processing. Figuring it out. “Did he hurt you?” He glanced at her now-wrinkled dress.

  “No! He was … he just said some things. And he was right, David. We’re not working out. You’re… You’re not what I want.” As soon as the words left her lips, loneliness rammed into her chest and knocked the wind out of her.

  David backed up. She willed him to look up, to be okay. But when he did, she realized he wasn’t. Whatever emotional link they’d shared had been severed, and he looked at her in a calculated way, with hate. Or maybe that wasn’t hate, maybe it was hurt.

  She waited for him to say something, to agree to be friends again or study buddies. Instead, he tapped the doorway his hand and left. With soft footsteps, he was gone, like he’d never even been there.

  There was no more arguing, no fixing things. He was just … gone. And the hole in Shayler’s heart grew until she had no choice but to lie back down, cover herself with a blanket, and cry.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Forty minutes of sniffling and crumpled tissues later, Shayler’s door burst open, and a fuming Rebecca fell onto her bed.

  “I’m so angry right now!”

  Shayler rolled over, seeing her friend but not registering her on an emotional scale. A numbness blanketed over her thoughts. “What?”

  “I’ll get to that in a sec, but first, don’t you answer your phone? I need you! And I know you had the dinner, but I was just gonna wait here, and then your roommate tells me you’re actually in your room. Don’t you check your messages? I have serious move in stress, and—”