Fire meet gasoline (Skeet Ulrich)

24.

Hi sunshines! Thank you for your amazing support, it means a lot! Sorry for this boring chapter. 

"Do you have a cigarette?" I asked the receptionist nervously and he handed me one. 

"And a lighter?"

"I got you, Vic," I heard Connor's voice. I quickly brushed my tears away and smiled at my blonde friend. 

He stood next to me and lit my cigarette, then his. We were quiet, freezing, but I was so angry and hurt, I didn't want to go back in restaurant and Connor was there probably because I was. I was so cold and smoke was burning my throat, but I didn't care at that moment. Skeet's words were echoing in my ears. 

"You look like you need some good wine," Connor said, throwing away the stub, "may I invite you to my office for some rosé? As far as I remember you've always loved it."

"I accept, that's very nice of you," I needed to get out and it seemed like a perfect opportunity. I always liked Connor back in high school, he played hockey, so girls loved him, but he was very funny and genuine person. We were sitting next to each other for four years and those were very good times. We came into his office, which looked really comfy, everything was made out of wood, there was also big fireplace, one wooden table, rotating chair, TV ... classical office. 

"Sit, please, make yourself comfortable," he pointed at couch while he poured us some wine. He than handed me glass full of my favourite alcohol and sat next to me. 

"So... to us? That we finally meet?" he suggested. 

"To us," I smiled, we raised our glasses and drank it all. I drank on an empty stomach, so I instantly felt the wine. I realized that it was not good situation and I should probably stop drinking, but I couldn't go back to Skeet. Not after what he did to me. Not now. 

"So ... should I ask you how are you, or just skip it?" he looked at me. 

"I'm good, Connor, actually really good."

"I remember that you never smoked, there were only three occasions where I saw you smoking, when you were angry and someone hurt you. Was that your boyfriend? Did he hurt you?" his muscles flexed in tight white shirt. He was actually very attractive, tall, masculine, blonde hair, blue eyes, but not my type. I was more into older and grumpier men. With chocolate eyes, wrinkles and dimples ... I shook my head.

"No, it's just bad timing for both of us, you know? We wanted to be together for a long time and when we finally overcame the shit that was thrown our way, we somehow can't find the right balance for our relationship. There are some things that we need to work on," I sipped from my glass. 

"I heard what happened ... with John," he clenched the glass, then turned around and poured us  the rest of bottle. 

"What do you want me to say?" I asked, looking at him. His blue eyes were scanning me. 

"Nothing. I was telling you all damn time that he's not good for you. Oh, and how you hated me for it," he smiled, "you know Vic, I used to be so in love with you, but you were completely oblivious to it. You had eyes only for him, all that time ... I remember how many guys were asking you on a date and you politely refused all of them, I didn't have the courage to do it, I was scared you would stop being friends with me. I respect you for it, for how faithful and deep you were in that relationship ..."

"It broke me, you know? Completely. I literally can't remember how I handled my last state exam then, but I knew I had to get out of the town, everyone was talking about it and everyone was looking at me with compassionate looks, which were obviously fake ... I just couldn't understand, I spent all those years with him, when you all had fun and went out partying and I was doing my homework, so I could go and see him during weekends ... oh, fuck it, he's not worth to be talking about ... ," I finished my third glass and he poured me other one, "how are you? You don't play hockey anymore?"