Page 37 of The Other Guy

“Just to see my uncle Kyle.”

“Oh, yeah? How’s he doing?” he asks. Kyle has visited here a few times and loves coming to Murphy’s. “I should go down to his place sometime. I hear they have a few new IPAs on tap that sound killer.”

“He does and they are. You should go see him. He’d love that.”

“I just might,” he says with a side grin that drops instantly when Jeff clears his throat.

“Can we order?” he asks impatiently and I don’t hide my eye roll.

“Sure. What can I get ya?”

We each place an order and Jeff surprises me when he asks for an order of smothered tater tots. He’s the type of guy who orders the same thing every time we go to a certain restaurant and his go-to at Murphy’s has always been the Monte Crisco sandwich with a side of fries.

“Trying something new?” I ask after Nick leaves to put our order in.

He shrugs. “Sounded good, I guess. Nick sure seems friendly with you tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Nick. He was practically undressing you with his eyes. Wouldn’t even do his job because he was more concerned about flirting with you.”

“What are you talking about?” I look around and make sure no one is listening. “He was just saying hello. He wasn’t flirting. That’s called small talk, Jeff. What is wrong with you tonight?”

He looks around the bar, settling his eyes on something over my shoulder. “Nothing. Forget it.”

Nick returns with our beer and I take a fortifying gulp, practically ripping it out of the poor guy’s hand before he has a chance to place it on the table. Nick’s eyebrows kiss his hairline.

“You good?”

After swallowing, I nod. “Yup. Great.”

He chuckles. “Alright then. Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll be out with your food shortly.”

“Thank you.”

Jeff and I don’t look at each other, each focused on a TV opposite us. It’s awkward and uncomfortable. It usually isn’t this way with us. Sure, we’re not the PDA type, but we at least manage to make conversation when we’re together.

“What’s going on?” I ask quietly.

“What do you mean?” He doesn’t take his eyes off the TV when he responds.

“Us. This.” I gesture between us. “You won’t even hardly look at me. You forgot I was even in the car with you.”

He sighs heavily like I’m a burden and finally makes eye contact.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t forget you in the car. I thought you were following me. And I’m just watching the game. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is I haven’t seen you in three weeks, Jeff, and you’re acting like I’m a pain in the ass. Even before I left to go see Kyle you were distant.”

“I wasn’t distant. I was working.”

“Nights. You, a high school teacher, was working nights.”

“Conferences were going on and then we had a few staff meetings with the new principal that’s starting next year. I can’t help that. I have a job that demands a lot of attention. I don’t get to just sit at home all day and play around with fabric.”

There it is. It’s his only go-to shaming when it comes to anything that involves our relationship being anything but perfect and blissful. My career choice.

“Right. I forgot. How silly of me.” I stare at him, or rather glare, and he sighs again. This time he reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. It doesn’t do anything to my body. No shivers. No spark. No zing. Nothing. Just like the chaste kiss on the cheek he gave me when he got home earlier.

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