Page 36 of The Other Guy

I look up at him. “He’s well. I missed him and it was good to spend time with him.”

“I’m glad. From what you say, he’s quite the man.”

And shouldn’t that be another sign? I’ve been with Jeff for almost two years and I’ve never introduced him to my family. I’ve never met his. Glorified roommates.

I shift out of his hold and stand.

“Want to go to dinner? I haven’t gone to the store in a while and we don’t have much to make. Maybe Murphy’s Bar?”

Of course he didn’t. He would wait for me to go for us. Just like I’m sure he didn’t do any of his own laundry while I was away. After all, I only sew for a living. I have time whereas he doesn’t. Damn, how could I be such an idiot? I let him practically control our lives because I didn’t want to fight and argue. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“Great. Just let me change clothes.”

I nod and look down at the adorable pup as he stands and moves to our bedroom.

Toby nestles in closer, throwing a long leg over my lap, reminding me why I’ve stayed and dealt with this crappy relationship. Because of a dog. My gosh, I’m a moron but seriously… Toby is the perfect companion. He is more than just a pet. He’s my buddy, practically my kid. “Oh, Toby. What will I do without you?”

“Ready?” Jeff asks, coming back into the living room. He’s dressed in light wash jeans and a three-quarter zip navy blue sweatshirt with the yellow emblem over his heart that boasts his alma mater and sneakers. Every time we go to eat at Murphy’s, a sports bar and grill, he dresses more casually so he doesn’t feel out of place. He’ll cheer and boo at the appropriate times but in reality, he’s a nerd. He’s all about the academics. Which is totally fine. I just wish he wouldn’t try to be someone he’s not.

I swallow hard, bend down ,and kiss Toby on top of the head. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

It usually doesn’t take us long to get to Murphy’s. Just a fifteen minute drive from our house. But this ride seems to be going on forever. It’s pretty quiet aside from the music playing through the speakers of his practical sedan.

“This was a good idea,” I tell him, hoping to break the silence. “I’m starving.”

“You usually are,” he jokes, reaching over to nudge me with his elbow. He’s always teased me about my ability to put down my weight in food. At first I was offended, thinking he was making fun of me. Then I realized he couldn’t have cared less.

That’s the thing with Jeff. For all his annoying qualities, he’s not a bad guy. He might have old fashioned ideals (thinking the woman only belongs in the home barefoot and pregnant) and often worries too much about others’ opinions of himself, but otherwise he doesn’t have glaring faults. He’s neat and tidy, keeps himself in relatively good shape — though nothing like what I saw of Jack Cole’s body — and he’s a decent man. Nice enough. Boring as heck, but… well, nice. Never talks of marriage or having kids which was always fine with me. Rarely tells me about his day or the kids he’s teaching. Doesn’t really expand on much of himself. Aside from the fact that he’s a teacher, I don’t know a lot about Jeff. Even after all this time.

Shit.

We are roommates.

And now that I think of it, I honestly can’t recall the last time we had sex and the realization that that fact just now hit me shocks me. Has me sitting in my seat, staring out the window even though we’ve arrived at the sports bar and he’s already walking to the entrance, not waiting for me.

“What have I been doing?” I whisper out loud to myself. The horn honks and I realize he just locked me into his car, not realizing that I wasn’t following him. How does a man — the boyfriend — of the woman he’s living with forget his girlfriend so easily? Not even notice she’s not walking next to him or at the very least behind him? When I went anywhere with Jack, he always walked behind me. Opened doors for me. Showed me that he at least knew I was present for heaven’s sakes.

I almost want to wait here in the quiet of the car to see how long it takes Jeff to realize that I wasn’t following him into the bar but my stomach growls and I don’t want to sit here for hours hoping he remembers me.

I hit the unlock button and pray the alarm doesn’t go off but I can’t be so lucky. The horn starts blaring and I cover my ears as I open the door and get out into the cold night air. Jeff turns on his heel and looks back at his car in a panic. Not because he was worried about me, of course.

“Sierra? What the hell are you doing? I locked the car!”

“Yeah! With me in it, you jerk!”

He hits a button on his key fob and the horn goes silent just like the world around us. He stares and stares and stares at me before shaking his head like I just told him a lie and spins back around and storms into the bar.

“Well, fuck you, too,” I mutter and trudge along behind him. The only reason being that I really am hungry and their boneless wings are calling my name. Along with some cheese fries. Or an onion blossom. And an entire keg of beer.

He’s already seated at a high-top table when I get inside. I join him, draping my coat over the back of the chair before sitting down. He doesn’t acknowledge me, rather he’s staring at a TV hanging from the ceiling in the corner. Watching a hockey game like he’s interested in it and understands the sport, but I know better.

A waiter, and owner of Murphy’s, Nick, comes by to take our order, smiling at me but giving Jeff a weird, almost annoyed, look that I can’t completely decipher or understand. “You’re back.”

Being regulars at Murphy’s means we have come to know a lot of the staff.

“Just got back today.”

“Go anywhere fun?”

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