“Just a class or two,” I replied vaguely.
“That’s good.” She turned to Simon immediately and flashed an even brighter smile. “I heard you’re getting your degree too, Simon.”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Kenny chimed in with a commentary about the Laker game, drawing Jackie into a broader conversation that hopefully would be easier to exit. Simon took the cue and pulled me aside.
“Wow. Blast from the past, eh? Didn’t she dump you?”
“It was the other way around, but we’ll go with her version,” I huffed.
“Whatever. I wanted to talk to you before Toph gets here.” Simon checked his phone quickly and slid it into his pocket again. “I had a chat with my friend in the AD’s office. They’re interested in granting you an interview for a junior baseball analyst at US-fucking-C.”
I blinked. “Are you serious?”
“Yep. They need someone with a degree in applied analytics and sports media. You have that, right?”
“I will in a month.”
An interview wasn’t a job, but it was an opportunity. And hell, I hadn’t had many of those lately. The idea of a tangible glimpse of a new start made my far-fetched dream feel plausible, and that alone was reason to celebrate.
“Perfect timing.” Simon tapped his glass to mine.
And because timing was everything, Jackie draped her arm over my shoulder just as George and Topher walked into the bar.
I did a double take, standing to create a little space between me and my inexplicably clingy ex. She didn’t take the hint.
“What are you celebrating?”
“Simon got an A on a paper,” I replied abruptly.
Jackie grinned. “Congratulations.”
Si nodded distractedly before ruffling his brother’s hair and greeting his boyfriend with a bear-hug and a kiss.
And me? I had a mini out-of-body experience where I felt like I was watching someone else’s life unfurl. This couldn’t be me distancing myself from a girl and wishing I had the right to look at George the way I wanted to…never mind touch him.
But there were so many eyes on us. And they weren’t strangers.
I hugged Topher, then held my hand up to give George a high five. Yep…a high five. To the guy I’d held in my arms until I slipped out of his bed at two a.m. last night. The guy I thought about all damn day. The guy who’d probably caught on that I was shamelessly stalling on finishing his Bronco because I was scared as fuck to lose him.
My smile didn’t waiver, though. I slipped into my old familiar “friend of the family” routine, pulling George’s sleeve when he turned to greet Kenny.
I stepped on his toe, grinning at his faux-irritated glare. “How was work today?”
“It was…good.” His nose twitched as he fumbled with the top button on his oxford shirt. “I spent most of the day measuring the orbital period of a new exoplanet. Relatively new, that is. It’s obviously billions of years old and—isn’t that the girl from the party?”
“Yeah.”
I made a “Yikes” face that I hoped conveyed an “I don’t know how this happened” vibe. I didn’t think it worked, though. George bit his bottom lip, his gaze darting around the bar uneasily.
“I see.”
“Just a coincidence, G,” I assured him in a low voice. “Want a beer?”
“Yes, I’ll have three, please.”
“Let’s start with one.”
I ordered George a beer, unintentionally drawing Jackie’s attention again. I ignored her. I had nothing to say, and while I wouldn’t be rude, I didn’t see any need to be overly gracious. She stared at Simon and Topher, quietly chatting on my right, then homed in on George.
Here’s the thing about George. He was the wildest wild card I’d ever met. He never acted the way you assumed he might. I never knew what was going on in his head. I had a feeling it was well outside of my comprehension, anyway. He could be calm and cordial or cut you to ribbons with a well-timed barb. But he could also be terribly unsure.
I could feel his insecurity move in, covering him like a gossamer veil. He wanted his cape or a book and a quiet place to read. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to fade. I couldn’t let that happen on my watch.
I set my hand on his shoulder, wishing I could touch his cheek. “Hey, tell me about exoplanets.”
George blinked. “Uh, she’s looking at you. I think you should talk to her.”
“No, I’m talking to you. How do you measure those orbits?”
“I’m…um—well, we use the star’s mass in relation to our sun’s mass. You have to examine the light curve and determine each dip…looking for a drop below normal light intensity and…” He fingered his collar fussily and stepped aside. “My bag is in Simon’s car. I should get it and—”
I stood abruptly and closed my fingers around his wrist, gently guiding him to my barstool.
“You don’t need it. I’m right here,” I whispered, setting a beer in front of him. “Keep talking.”