“Let the record show.”
Mer mer mermer mer. I silently mocked Reub in my head as he spoke.
“I’m totally fucking on to you, man,” he accused Thursday night at his new place.
Nolan and I were there to help them move some furniture down to the basement. They’d bought a few new things they needed help with, and, unfortunately for Nolan and me, they were of the heavy variety.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yes, I did, but I was already one step ahead of him. “How close do you want this to the wall?” The book case was massive, but it was finally where Becca wanted it.
“As close as you can get it. I’m going to bolt it flush,” he answered and spun around looking for a tool. “And you know damn well what I’m talking about. Those girls are going to trivia night at the Mill, which you suggested to Jodi. I know what you’re doing.”
It was all sorts of true. Ask me if I gave a shit.
He said I couldn’t pursue her until after the wedding. That was fine, but I needed to be around her. I wanted to see what she was like out with her friends. We’d be in a group after all. What harm could it do?
“You did that so you’d know where they’d be. Then you’d just conveniently show up and do your typical Cord routine.” He pressed the trigger on his drill, testing the battery.
I didn’t dignify his insult with a response. He was acting like I was some sort of predator and that the women who I saw were victims. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
Our good friend Nolan, King of Switzerland, kept his mouth shut like usual.
Reuben said, “You know what? I think we should get a table too. Then I can keep my eye on you.” He aimed the end of the drill at my face and squeezed the trigger again.
I smacked it away. Like I’d said, I was way ahead of him. “Good. I already paid for us. Great idea.”
“Cord,” he warned.
“Reuben.”
“You gave me your word.”
“And I’ll keep it. When have I ever lied to you? No. Never mind that. When have I ever been so awful to a woman that you’d even make me promise something like this anyway? You said take my time. Get to know her. Well, how in the hell am I supposed to do that if you all but fucking forbid me to even talk to her?” I stood back and grabbed my beer off the end table where I’d placed it.
“You know it’s not like that. Man, I just don’t want anything to get awkward—for either of you. What if you end up liking her, but she’s not interested? That would be so weird. Say she brings a date, and then add alcohol. Ah. I don’t even want to think about it.” But, apparently, he did because he kept going. “Or vice versa. She likes you, and you lose interest. You bring a date. Then she spends our reception in the bathroom crying … with my new bride?” His arms went up, and he waved the tool in the air, like I was never going to get it.
“You really have a worst-case scenario for everything, don’t you?”
Nolan the Mute finally broke his silence. “Yeah, he really does.”
“I’m just trying to minimalize the possibility of things going wrong.”
I folded my arms over my chest and countered, “Dude, what if it goes right?”
His expression indicated that he literally hadn’t even considered it, but he nodded for me to go on.
I had the floor.
To work up my defense, I started a slow pace at the front of the room while he took a seat on the arm of the couch, which wasn’t centered where we’d been instructed to put it yet. Nolan followed suit and flopped down on the cushions.
“What if we meet and click.” I had to speak in terms he’d understand. Plus, it was fun to play lawyer. “Let’s examine some facts here, shall we? You’re with her best friend. Some would say, good friends are alike in many ways. Some would even go as far as saying, you and I are alike in many ways. Common grounds. Interests. We both like to have a good time. We both like having a few beers. Morality and principles wise, I’d say were on the same page. In turn, you—being my friend and somewhat like minded—love Becca. So conversely, you may love qualities in Becca that she shares with Dana. See where I’m going with this?” I wiped a hand across my chin and waited for him to admit I had a point. Or at least he’d see how hard I was reaching for one.
“Okay, that’s all fair and good, but you and I have a few key differences that might erode your argument, Mr. Defendant.” He began counting off on his hand. “You always find some lame reason not to like a woman. You’re not ready to settle down or have a long-term relationship. You have impossible standards.”
“They’re not impossible.”
“You need to realize, when it comes to the opposite sex, there’s always going to be some shit you’re never going to understand or even like, but you still need to appreciate those details. Details you see as flaws. You have to accept them for who they are. I’m ready to be married to a woman I love. I’m ready to put someone else first, Cord.”
The two boneheads on the couch couldn’t see Becca come down the stairs and stop at the bottom in time to hear his last words. They also missed the way she put her hand on her heart hearing how he felt and hearing him declare it to his friends.
“What if you’re wrong and I do want that?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated with me. His fiancé came up behind him, ran her hand down his chest as she kissed his cheek from behind. She whispered something in his ear.
He looked into her eyes and said, “I meant it.” Forgotten was his argument with me.
Nolan nodded toward the door that it was time for us to go, and I agreed. At least I was on the same page as one of my friends.
Dana had been at the gym by seven every day that week. She ignored me for the most part, but sometimes I’d catch her looking at me in the mirror.
I prayed she wasn’t trying to lose weight. Her curves were shaped by God himself—and that was just the tease I got from her gym clothes. I never let my mind wander beyond that at the Fit Club. It’s a little embarrassing trying to do leg presses with a raging hard on.
My point: she was incredible.
Regardless of what I thought, I understood a woman’s body was her own, and everyone has to be comfortable with themselves.
It also wasn’t my business.
Hear that guys?
A woman’s body isn’t your business—with the exception of when she’s accepting pleasure. Then it’s your only business. The only thing you should be focused on.
As it was, I just tried to breathe and do my circuits like I always did. Five days in a row, she was there. Seeing her for an hour or so every day was enough—for the time being.
On the sixth day, she spoke to me.
There I was getting my pump on, not even paying attention, and listening to Fuck Shit Up Number Five—a playlist I’d created specifically for arm day. When I looked up, she was standing right in front of me drinking water.
I lost my concentration and damn near dislocated my shoulder. The machine slammed when I lost my hold.
“Oh, my God. What the hell? What do you want? I mean. Sorry. Hi. What’s up?”
Pure poetry. Bobby Frost would be so proud.
She nearly choked at my outburst, but didn’t. No. She just laughed at me. A reaction men love, let me tell you. It was just as well, I enjoyed the sound of it.
“Did I scare you?” she asked. Her skin was flushed pink from her workout, and her cheeks were bright as she grinned. It was all I could do not to ogle her.
Pulling the buds out of my ears and sitting forward, I answered, “No. You didn’t scare me. Surprised me maybe.”
“Well, I wanted to come over and say hello. I was curt with you in that chat message.” She tipped her chin down, looked at me through her thick lashes, and bit her bottom lip to hide her smile.
I’ll bite that lip for you.
I didn’t know what to think about her coming over, but I wasn’t about to complain. We’d probably only said a total of a dozen words to each other, mostly just pleasantries in passing. Hi and bye and hey. But, in that moment, there was a connection.
“Don’t worry about it. So, do you like the gym?”
She looked around the room, swung the hoop of her water bottle around her finger, and crossed her legs at the ankles as she stood in front of me.
Although I was sitting, her head wasn’t that much taller than mine. I collected as much information as quickly as I could and did my best not to be the embodiment of a horny, middle aged man.
Because that’s what I was.
“Yeah, it’s actually pretty great. Close to where I live. Good hours. I really like it.”
“That’s nice to hear,” I replied and ran my towel across the back of my sweaty neck.
She licked her bottom lip—and I’m not joking—I damn near came.
Those. Fucking. Lips.
“Okay. I’ll let you get back to it. I just wanted to say hello before I left. Also, I’m going to the Mill tonight. Maybe, if I see you there, I’ll buy you a drink. You know? Pay you back for the coffee.”
My head started shaking before she even finished speaking. “No, you don’t have to do that.” I waved a yielding hand. “No.”
“Stop. I insist. Hopefully, I’ll see you tonight.” She turned on her heel and sauntered off, and before she went out the door, she gave me a look over her shoulder. Of course, my eyes were still on her, but I didn’t care if she caught me.
I hadn’t done a single thing differently than I had on any other day. In fact, I’d made peace—somewhat—with the idea of just taking a break from dating altogether until after the wedding. Dana was the only woman I was interested in, and I was going to keep my word with Reuben.
But something was different. Dana had flirted with me, and she was damn good at it.
Let me tell you, it was not the best time to be off my game. I mean, come the fuck on. I wasn’t doing well. It wouldn’t have even mattered if Reuben told me to hold off with her or not. Every interaction with her was clumsy and not very smooth.
Only five minutes ago, I’d basically told her to fuck off when she startled me. Ladies love when you shout, “What do you want?” at them at seven thirty in the morning.
It was peculiar that she didn’t really seem to mind though. So odd, in fact, I was starting to question her judgment.
Why would she—after a full week of nothing—suddenly want to talk to me?
And offering to buy me a drink that night? I wasn’t on my game, but I’ll be damned if she wasn’t on hers.
I needed to be on my toes.
On my way to the office, I called Sam and made special arrangements for our two tables. The ladies would be seated close to the stage, and I requested that the guys be set up between them and the bar.
I had to be subtle, therefore the distance. I didn’t want to tip off my buddy that I was still very much interested in his fiancé’s best friend, and the obvious move would have been to ask for tables next to each other.
But think about it. It would be easier to catch her looking back at us. Additionally, she’d have to walk by our table if she needed something from the bar. All perfect instances of me—by all intents and purposes—not doing anything. Or so it would appear.
I could hang back and let her come to me, if she wanted.
I hoped she would. At least, that was the plan before she came right up to me in the middle of my workout. That changed my angle, reminded me I’d need to be cautious.
Dana Rogers wasn’t just some woman.
If she was into me as much as I was attracted to her, and she acted on it that night, I’d have a hell of a time resisting. One hell of a time.
It might not even be possible.
It had been a productive work week, and I was looking forward to a night out.
I didn’t know a whole lot about music history, aside from the greatest rock band ever—Bon Jovi. I wasn’t much for current Top 40 artists, but I listened to music quite a bit and hoped that would be enough to at least pull my weight.
Nolan would be the anchor for our team, aptly and cleverly named Table Eleven. Our creativity knew no bounds. Even though he wasn’t great at coming up with names, he knew just about everything regarding rock bands from the seventies, eighties, and nineties. That had to count for something.
Reuben, on the other hand, knew about as much as I did. If it had to do with pop culture during our college years, he might have a fighting chance. We’d seen OAR six times. Okay? I’m sure you’re impressed.
The fourth guy on our team was Trevor. We really needed him if we wanted a fair shot. Surely, a seventeen-year-old as hip as he thought he was would know a thing or two about current trends in music, if they happened to pop up in the game.
When Nolan, Trevor, and I arrived, Reuben was already at our table. He was thumbing through the game packet reading through the rules. So, basically, just doing Reuben shit.
When no one was looking, I made a casual glance to the front, noticing the ladies’ table was already full. It should be noted, Dana looked so goddamned good that it took maximum effort to look away before I got busted.
“How was dinner?” Reuben asked.
“Good,” Trevor answered. “We ate on the other side. Reuben, could you please tell my father there’s more to a college than the gym and sports teams? He seems to think that I have to go to a BigTen University, and something tells me it has nothing to do with their teaching programs.”
The mention of schools had Nolan playing dumb all over again. “What? Oh, come on. They all have education courses.” He may be interested in their sports teams, but I knew he was more interested in a credible reason to visit Trevor when he was gone.
Honestly, I doubted Trevor would go that far, and I saw him choosing a smaller college anyway. He was basically raised by three frat guys—us. Additionally, he had more maturity at his age than the three of us in high school had—combined.
Thankfully, the college argument between the father and son was mostly avoided this time around since the emcees took the stage. The local morning radio show duo, our local celebrity hosts, didn’t waste any time, and after a brief recap of the rules, the game began.
Hindsight proved me right. It was convenient that the table where Dana sat was situated between us and the stage. There were plenty of opportunities to admire that woman.
Her jeans fit like they were made for her. She wore her hair straighter than I’d seen it before, and it hung long against her back. It almost looked redder against the silky ivory, thinly strapped shirt she had on.
The challenge was looking away appropriately. I didn’t want to get caught, but my odds weren’t great. The more she laughed, the harder it was to tear my eyes off her.
The first round went quickly. Out of ten points, we’d earned a whopping three. I didn’t care.
“If they come back around, grab me a Sam Adams. I’ll be right back,”
During the game, Mom had left me a text message saying to call her when I got a chance. So I headed out into the common area between the two sides of the Mill where people mingled between east and west, and I found a quiet spot off to the far end to call her back.
“Do you remember our neighbors from when we lived on Brant Road?” she asked as soon as she picked up the line.
“Yeah, the Browns. Right?”
“Yes. Them. They had a dog,” she continued, taking me with her down the rabbit hole. “It was white and brown. Barked all the damn time, the little shit.” She laughed, and I laughed along with her as I looked out the glass wall into the night.
“I remember. She could go all night. That bitch never shut up,” I said thinking of all of the sleepless nights from my youth.
I heard a throat clear behind me, and I adjusted my focus to look in the reflection in the window. Dana.
“Hold on a second,” I told my mom quickly and pressed the phone against my chest as I spun around to acknowledge her.
The expression on her face was sour, then she looked at my phone, and I realized how what I’d said must have sounded.
Dear God, will I ever say the right thing around her?
She rolled her eyes, and then walked down the hall, heading toward the ladies’ room.
I would have liked to follow her and explain, but that wasn’t going to make it any better. Besides, she’d be coming back out soon enough, which gave me time to get off the damn phone with my mother.
“Hey, did you need something?” I asked, bringing the cell to my ear again.
“Oh, not really. I was just trying to remember that dog’s name. Craig and I were just watching TV and there was one like it on a show.” I was sure I didn’t have the only mother who called for dumb shit like that, but her timing had reached a new level of bad.
“Fizzy, Mom.”
“Fizzy! That’s right. Thank you. Craig, it was Fizzy, honey.” He said something back, but I couldn’t hear him clearly. “Okay, Cord. Sorry to bother you. What are you up to tonight anyway?”
“Out with Nolan and Reub. Trivia at the Mill.”
“That sounds fun. I’ll let you get back to it. Talk to you later, sweetie. I love you.”
I took a seat on the deep window ledge and replied. “Love you too. Bye.” No more did I end the call before I heard heels clicking against the floor walking toward me.
My eyes locked on hers.
Where she’d looked mildly offended only a few minutes earlier, she seemed fine as she strolled back my way.
“How do you do that?” I asked as she stopped in front of me, a tiny gold purse swinging from her wrist.
“Do what?”
“Catch me at the wrong times.” I chuckled through my humiliation. “I was talking about an actual dog—a minute ago. The noisy bitch? I was on the phone with my mom.”
Dana shrugged like she could care less if I did or didn’t say something completely chauvinistic or not.
I added, “I hope you don’t think I talk about women like that?”
She looked toward the doors to the west room. “I’m not too worried about it. We should get back in there. The break is probably over. I only came out here because the line to the bathroom was really long inside.”
“Okay,” I said and pushed away from the wall.
In the heels she wore, she was close to my shoulder’s height, but not quite. Walking beside her made me feel like a giant.
Before we got back to the entrance, I reiterated, “I don’t want you to think I’m some asshole who can’t have a simple conversation. Believe it or not, I can behave like a normal person.”
She tipped her head up, one eyebrow arched. Her hand found my elbow, and I delved down into her sapphire colored eyes.
Then, I watched her lips as she quietly asked, “Who said I wanted to talk?”
Shit.