Shameless (The Therapist #2), стр. 37
“So, you're staying then?” he asks, taking his own drink and immediately pulling it to his lips.
“I suppose I am,” I reply, dragging the drink closer to me. “I’m Tessa.”
I extend my hand, and he takes it. “Will.”
“Thanks for the drink, Will.”
“My pleasure. It’s the least I can do for staring at you and making you uncomfortable.”
“Who said you made me uncomfortable? Maybe I liked the attention.”
“Yeah? Well all right then. What do you say we have a toast?”
“Sure,” I agree. I knock back the rest of the drink I already had, and pick up the freshly poured whiskey sour. “What are we toasting to?”
Will lifts his glass in the air and lets it hover in front of me. “Oh, I don’t know. Let’s toast to taking a break.” I frown, so Will explains. “My girlfriend just told me she wants to take a break from us. That’s why I’m here drinking my sorrows away.”
Images of Brandon standing in my living room dumping me flash across my memory.
“Ah, I see. Well, I can relate to that. I was dumped recently, too,” I say. I have to fight off the wave of sadness that threatens to wash over me. I refuse to be drowned by it.
“Well, here’s to being cut loose,” Will says, touching his glass to mine.
“So, what do you plan to do with your break from your girlfriend?” I ask, sipping my drink.
“I don’t know,” Will answers. He turns and faces forward, but keeps talking to me. “I wasn’t expecting to have things slow down. She said for me not to call her, so it feels like it’s completely over. I don’t know. What did you do when your guy broke up with you?”
“Whatever I wanted, and I guess that’s what I’m still doing,” I answer honestly. “We’d been together for two years, and the ending felt like a giant cement block was being lifted off my chest. Once I realized I was free from the weight of it, I decided to just do whatever I wanted. Judgement be damned. It’s liberating, actually.”
“So, you’ve been partying it up since you got dumped?”
I let out a painful laugh. “Not exactly. The single life isn't all it’s cracked up to be. I’m pretty sure all I’ve felt since I started putting myself out there is disappointment. Between how lame guys are and my shitty job, things haven’t exactly improved.”
“Yeah, we are pretty lame,” Will says behind a chuckle. He sips his drink again before placing it back on the table. “Where do you work?”
“Milton Animal Clinic. My father owns it, and my mother works there, too.”
“Ah, family business. Is that really as shitty as it’s cracked up to be?”
“Probably worse,” I reply. I suddenly feel a strong desire to laugh, but I don’t know why. “Working there feels like someone has taken my worst nightmare and forced me to live it as punishment for my sins.”
Will laughs. “Oh come on, it can't be that bad.”
“Yes it is,” I snip. “You don’t even know, Will.” I emphasize his name and it comes out slurred. Yep, I’m getting drunk.
Will raises his eyebrows and chuckles. I think he’s a little drunk, too. His gorgeous face is flushed red, and his eyes have a weird tint over them. If I had to guess, he’s definitely a little faded, but goddamn if he isn't beautiful.
“Okay, okay,” Will says, raising his hands in surrender. “I believe you. Don’t like working with family, huh?”
“Oh, it’s not just that my mom is a judgemental, pinched faced bitch,” I snip, feeling much more aggression than I should. “The whole place is annoying to even stand in. I hate it there, and of course I hate my mother. Maybe it’s her fault that the entire place feels like a giant courtroom that’s filled with the smell of dog shit. I don’t know. All I know is that the place is definitely a giant courtroom filled with the smell of dog shit. And fuck Brandon.”
I start to think I should slow down on the whiskey sour in front of me, but have you even ever had a whiskey sour? They’re so delicious.
“Wow. And I thought I was having a bad day. Who’s Brandon?” Will asks. He seems genuinely amused at this point, but the alcohol coursing through me won't let up, and I continue to ramble.
“The monster that dumped me and left to go be a failure with his band, American Armpits. Can you believe that? That’s their name. American Armpits. He left me because he said I wasn’t driven enough, but at least I’m not dumb enough to tether my dreams to a group called American Armpits. There’s no chance that shit works out. What a joke. God, I hate him. Fuck, I think I’m talking too much. Am I talking too much?”
When I turn to face Will, he’s looking at me with a cute little smile pulling at his lips. He’s so freaking cute. If he would just make me stop talking and ask for my number, I’d practically throw it at him at this point. With the luck I’ve had lately, he’ll probably just end up being terrible in bed anyway. Probably a premature ejaculator. Fuck my life right now.
“I like it,” Will answers. I can see him fighting back a bigger smile, but I find it so adorable I don’t even get offended. “It’s a nice distraction from my own shit. But is it really all that bad, though?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, I just assume you’d quit a place that’s as bad as you described it.”
“I can't just quit. Why does everyone keep saying that? It’s not that easy when you’ve worked there with your parents since before you were old enough to even have a job. I’m stuck in the