Page 58 of Beautiful Trauma

“Busted,” I agreed. “It was a very long day.” One that Ezra’s tenderness would ease.

“Goodnight, Henry. I hope you rest well.”

“Thanks, George. Don’t work too hard.” George’s chuckle followed me to the elevator. He’d often told me his biggest struggle was staying awake all night long.

Once the elevator doors closed, I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. It felt like I hadn’t stopped moving since I woke up at Ezra’s that morning. I was tired, hungry, and borderline cranky, which meant I probably should’ve told Ezra I was going home after my shift instead of agreeing to come over. I could bitch to Jess without worrying about straining our relationship. But this was Ezra, and he was so good for me.

When I stepped off the elevator, I thought about the night Ezra stood outside his door waiting for me. The tenderness in his eyes and dark promise in his voice made me shiver hard.Dark promise?I had to stop reading Jessie’s books when I got bored and find reading material better suited to me.

Being so close to seeing Ezra again was like a shot of adrenaline. By the time I knocked on his door, the exhaustion I’d felt during the elevator ride up had disappeared. The door opened fast, and Ezra tugged me into his arms, closing the door behind me.

“Hey, baby,” he said.

“Um, that’s new.”

Ezra smiled. “Hello, Henry.”

“Much better.”

Something other than his greeting was different, but I couldn’t put a finger on it until he kissed me and I tasted liquor in his kiss. Not the fruity stuff I preferred, but the stronger stuff I associated with serious drinks. I didn’t like it at all and pulled back from the kiss. As far as I knew, Ezra didn’t drink, or at least he never had in my presence during the time we dated. Then I noticed his eyes were a little red and glassy, his smile a little dopey.

“You’ve been drinking,” I said.

“You caught me, Sherlock.” Ezra’s easy smile took out some of the sting from his words. “I enjoyed an extra dry and extra, extra dirty martini. It was sodirty.”

I swallowed hard. “Just one?”

Ezra rolled his eyes up and tilted his head to the side like he was mentally counting his extra dry and extra, extradirtymartinis. I hadn’t missed the emphasis on the word dirty and wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Four or five…maybe,” he finally said then giggled.

“Wow,” I said, stepping out of his arms. Suspicion and jealousy spread across my brain, forming ink blot images I wanted to deny but couldn’t. I knew Ezra had attended a department meeting, but he’d told me they were stuffy and boring. “Did you drink these filthy martinis by yourself?”

“Ohhh, filthy sounds better than extra, extra dirty. Next time, I’m going to order mine downright filthy,” Ezra replied, ignoring my question. Was it deliberate or was his tipsy brain unable to string together multiple thoughts at once?

Maybe I should’ve let it go, but I couldn’t. “And who will be drinking these downright filthy martinis with you?”

“Pres. You know, my friend who’s guest lecturing at the school.”

“Ezra, this is the first time you mentioned anything about your friend guest lecturing at the university.” His secrecy only added to my suspicion. “You know, I think my being here isn’t the best idea tonight.”

“Whaaaat?” Ezra asked. “No. Don’t go.”

“I’m tired and cranky, and you’re drunk. This isn’t a good combo.” I couldn’t stand drunkenness. Ezra should’ve realized it was one of my triggers after I’d told him about my dad, but maybe that was on me for not being more specific.

“If I’d known you were going to be so immature about me having a drink with a friend, I wouldn’t have invited you over tonight.”Immature.He might as well have just kicked me in the balls; it would’ve hurt less. “I guess I can call Pres and see if he wants to meet me again. He didn’t seem to mind getting filthy with me.”Filthy.My heart fell to my feet. He’d already found someone else more suitable for him. Hadn’t I known all along this would happen?

I flinched as if Ezra had hit me. “Maybe you should,” I said, walking backward. Something in my expression must’ve penetrated his alcohol euphoria because remorse filled his eyes, and he reached for me.

“Baby, don’t go,” he begged. “I’m sorry. Nothing happened between Pres and me. We don’t have that kind of relationship.” I might’ve had less experience than Ezra, but I knew most relationships could be “that kind”under the right circumstances. Sensing he hadn’t won me over, he started talking faster. “I didn’t ask you to come over so we could argue; I wanted you to come over because I have a surprise for us.”

Did he really think he could dangle a gift over my head and it would make up for his shitty behavior? “Ezra, I’m exhausted and hungry. You’re drunk and a little mean. You should know how that makes me feel. I’m going home, and we can talk more tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Ezra said, releasing my arm. “Have a good night, Henry.”

It was doubtful. “You too.”

“I plan on it.”