Page 9 of Vince
It has been awhile since my date with ‘Fucking Brad,’but I quickly squash that thought like a bug on the windshield.
That’s no excuse.
I refuse to let that douche-canoe have the power to shape my future. He was just another bad experience in a long line of horrible dates. I don’t have the time or the patience to put forth the effort it takes to be in a lasting relationship. I’m perfectly fine on my own and don’t need a guy to make me happy.
Besides—that’s what I’ve paid good money on my trusty vibrator for.
Smirking at the thought, I’m interrupted by the movement from the people around me. They’re shoving their notebooks into their backpacks and exiting the lecture hall.
Holy shit. Did I daydream through this entire class?
When I look to Vince, he’s packed but looking at me expectantly. “You okay?”
Shaking the rest of the cobwebs from my brain, I rush out, “Yeah. Sure. Sorry—got lost thinking about something the professor was saying.”
Vince’s lips tip at the end, almost as if he’s holding back a smile. “Really? What’s that?”
Not wanting to completely lie, I spit out, “It’s not that big of a deal. I was just thinking about the assigned reading from last night and how applicable it would be to real life.”
Vince’s eyebrows lift past the rim of his glasses, but he doesn’t say anything.
Needing to fill the awkward silence, I quickly change the subject. “Are you done with classes for the day? Or do you have another one after this?”
Vince stands and lets the person I didn’t know was waiting on my other side, pass by us. “I’m done for the day, you?”
“I’ve been going since nine and thankfully, this is my last class,” I reply, following Vince out of the hall.
Vince glances at his watch. “It’s nearly five. Just how many classes are you taking?”
“Oh, just eighteen credits. I’ve loaded Tuesdays and Thursdays so I can sleep in after working my late shifts. I only have one class on Mondays and Wednesdays—so that’s a win in my book.”
God. Sydney. Shut up. Why are you telling him your whole life’s story?
Not knowing what to do, I look anywhere but at Vince. When I finally allow myself to meet his eyes, I’m relieved to find he isn’t looking at me as if I’ve just over-shared. No, he’s nodding in agreement. “Working at a bar must mean late nights; that’s a smart plan.”
Huh. Not what I expected.
“I must be a glutton for punishment because with back-to-back classes and only time to go home, grab some dinner, and change, I keep going until we close.” I shrug as if it’s just a fact of my life, trying like hell to stop making things awkward.
Vince lets out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s a packed day. I thought I had long days—but my days end by five—even when I have to work.”
Wow—being off by five. That must be nice. “You work on campus?”
Vince holds the door as we exit the building. “Yeah. I got an internship in the university’s marketing department my sophomore year, and I’ve been working part-time ever since.”
“Wow, that’s great. I started as a waitress, but bartending makes more.”
Vince nods in agreement. “I can see how it would, even in a college town.”
I sigh heavily as I admit, “I don’t have to work as many hours to make ends meet now. When I do get the extra hours, I can put it aside and save it for a rainy day.”
“That’s great,” he says as we get to the bottom of the steps outside the building. “Which way are you heading?”
Pointing in the direction of my apartment, I thumb over my shoulder. “This way, you?”
Smiling, Vince shakes his head. “Seriously—I have no idea how we’ve made it this long without running into one another. Mind if I walk with you?”
Instantly, I recall his address being near mine—but a few blocks further. He must live in one of the houses up the road, so I nod in agreement. “Sounds good.”
