All the Right Moves(31)
“WOW, YOU MUST NOT have done laundry in a while.” Beth reached across the bar and grabbed one of the bowls of pretzels Cassie was filling. “You look nice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but a T-shirt.”
“Yep, gotta get to the Laundromat,” Cassie muttered. Not true, but this was the fourth time she’d been accused of not washing her clothes, or something to that effect.
It had started off with Lisa, and since Cassie was irritable from too little sleep, insufficient studying and the certainty she’d totally messed up her exam, she’d decided not to tell Lisa about having John over last night. Of course it was childish. Keeping Lisa in the dark hardly served as a punishment, since Lisa didn’t know she was missing out on anything. Somehow it made Cassie feel better anyway.
Besides, if she did talk to Lisa, then she’d have to admit she had no idea where things stood between her and John. Even worse, not knowing bothered her far too much. Especially because it was 10:00 p.m. and he hadn’t shown up.
He never had asked for her phone number, or volunteered his. While he knew where she lived and worked, she only knew he was a captain stationed at Nellis and that was it. He obviously wanted the information flowing one way, and she was annoyed at herself for bothering to iron her yellow cotton sleeveless blouse just in case he’d show up for a beer.
Damn it, she should’ve dragged him to bed last night while she’d had the chance. She might as well have, considering he was the reason she’d probably get a C.
The beginning of the test had gone off without a hitch. Then panic had crept in, which she’d actually managed by focusing on her breathing and trying to relax. But that had reminded her of John’s lips and hands on her body and, poof, she’d been toast.
God, she wanted him to come by if only to tell him thanks for nothing. Sighing, she brought out a shot glass and grabbed the bottle of tequila. This was every bit her fault. She’d broken her own rule and it was costing her. Big-time. Even if she had made plans with John, it wouldn’t have meant anything. Not in the long run. He was on leave. That explained so much.
Which was fine. Because as soon as school was over, she was out of here. Maybe they would’ve only had a week, but man, what a week it could have been.
Lisa plopped down her tray. “I hate it when we’re this slow. Feels like I’ve been here for three days instead of four hours. Where the hell is everybody, anyway?”
“Barbecues and softball games. The hospital gang has some sort of tournament going on.”
“I don’t understand doing things outside when it’s three thousand degrees.”
“You and me both, sister.”
“Oh, honey, you know as well as I do June is nothing compared to July and August.” Lisa’s gaze flicked over Cassie’s button-down blouse. “That looks cute on you. Bet you have a good tip night.” She grinned, then looked over at the empty stool where John normally sat. “Where’s flyboy?”
“How should I know?” Heat flooded Cassie’s cheeks, and she ducked to get the cut-up limes out of the minifridge. Lisa stared curiously at her for a few seconds, then got distracted by the shot of booze sitting in front of Cassie. Lisa’s gaze darted to her order pad. “Did I forget to deliver a drink?”
“Nope, this is for me.”
“Seriously?” Lisa blinked extravagantly as she watched Cassie prepare her salt and lime. “Your exams must be finished.”
“I have one more, and then I’m done until September.” She decided to skip the lime and salt and downed the tequila, cringing when she shuddered like an amateur.
“You never drink while you’re working.”
“I do occasionally...when it’s slow.”
Lisa eyed her suspiciously. For good reason—because it was true. Cassie hardly ever drank at the bar. It seemed she was always anxious to get home, always studying, always stressed.
“You should be able to leave early if you want,” Lisa said, giving the room a quick look-see, but no one was signaling for service. “It was like this last night. Of course your brother bitched because, well, he’s Tommy, but we had no trouble keeping up. Lots of beer drinkers, so that helped.”
“Yeah, I’ll probably shove off in the next hour.” The words were barely out of her mouth when the door opened. With a weird certainty that it was John, she turned a casual glance that way. It wasn’t him. Two guys who were kind of familiar walked up to the bar.