I LOOK AROUND and assess the possibilities. Obviously, I don’t want to get into it with someone too buzzed. Just imagining a guy drunk out of his mind touching me is queasy. No, I need someone with a light buzz or sober, someone desperate for sex. It shouldn’t be that difficult to find. Right?
“What about this one?’’ I ask, pointing under cover of my hair at a blond guy sadly looking at his empty tumbler of whiskey, moving the glass around and around. His shaggy blond hair is shining under the lights of the fancy bar. From here, I can’t see his eye color, but to be honest, I don’t care. He seems decent enough and not a significant threat to me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were wallowing after his girlfriend broke up with him.
Brock glances in the guy’s direction and scowls harder. He’s been in a foul mood ever since we left the building and it’s not improving. “No.’’
I straighten up in the booth, the leather cracking under me. I take a sip of my fruity alcohol-free drink and lick my lower lip, enjoying the taste. “Why not? This one doesn’t look like a creep, Brock.’’ It’s the fourth time that he waves off my choice and of course, I’m still listening to him.
“It won’t be written on his forehead, Addy.’’ He gulps the last of his rich scotch and scratches at his right cheek. His brown-gold eyes are getting gloomier at the minutes, and crinkles slowly appear in the corner of his eyes.
“I told you, I’m not changing my mind. Now, since you’re such a downer, I’ll leave you and chat up that man.’’ I stand up and without a look back at my best friend, I walk up to the blond guy, still slouching in his booth while staring down at his empty glass.
The more tables I pass by slaloming between, the more nervous I get. My palms are all sweaty, my heart is beating faster as if to defy the fastest man on a run for its life and my blood is rushing so quickly through my veins that my temples throb. For the first time since I came up with that crazy idea, I’m doubting. It’s not morally acceptable, and I’m not one to do things that the moral condemn.
The man glances up when I stop at his table and forces a welcoming smile on his face. The smile is easy going, his thin lips stretched into a perfect smile, showing straight white teeth. His eyes of a chocolate brown color are laced with sadness, but they don’t let on of any wariness he could feel upon seeing an unknown woman standing next to his table and watching him like a hawk.
All in all, that man is quite the average male American.
“Can I help you?’’ he asks with a soft voice, so soft that I barely register his words with all the noises in the bar from the chatters, waves of laughter and the jazzy music coming from every corner of the bar.
I smile and brace myself. If there’s once in my life that I need to master the art of hitting on a guy, it’s now or never. I have to play the act of my life. I sit in the booth opposing his and tilt my head on one side coyly, still smiling at him. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you.’’
He shakes his head, the sadness fast deserting his eyes to be replaced by a new interest. Typical male behavior. It’s almost too easy. He leans on his elbows, his face getting closer to me above the table. “Not at all. What would you like to—‘’
“She’d like nothing at all,’’ Brock breaks in with a dark voice I haven’t heard since I told him why I broke up with my last boyfriend and he was determined to go and bash his face in. “Get up, Addy, before I make a scene.’’
I gulp and immediately stand up under the surprised look of the blond man that shall remain un-named. I’m mortified. Without a word and with my eyes downcast, I walk away and out of the bar, not once looking up. Outside, I breathe deep in, listening to the cars oozing past, some honking in the crisp fall night.
I know Brock is behind me, standing, guarding. On one side I want to turn around and punch him for butting in my business, but another side of me wants to turn around and hug the hell out of him.
I do want a kid, but picking a random guy isn’t the way to do it. Maybe the in vitro is the best option even though it’s still creepy to think about choosing the sperm donor in a binder just like you’d do to pick a couch. And still! The couch, you’d sit in it before buying it.
“Don’t worry, next time I won’t ask you to come with me,’’ I say weakly, breaking the stretching silence between us.
He walks to me and stands next to me, his big arm touching mine. We’re both looking at the busy nightlife of Chicago unfolding in front of us. Some of the young crowd are already with a good buzz, laughing loudly in the streets, while other people are slowly strolling around.
“You deserve better than that, Addy. I don’t understand what is going on, but if you feel alone, you can go out and date instead of jumping straight to the step of kids.’’
“Just forget about it.’’ I sigh and cross my arms over my chest. My light jacket isn’t helping much when the fall breeze picks up. Brock snakes an arm around my shoulder and brings me closer to his firm and tall body. His heat warms me immediately.
“Does that mean that you’re giving up on this crazy idea?’’
“I don’t know yet.’’
His grip on me tightens. I glance at his face, and I can only see his profile, but it’s enough. He’s not happy with my answer. But I’m not going to lie to him just to ease his mind. I don’t know what to do, but I do know that I want a kid. I’m afraid of the years passing by, of the fact that I’m still single at twenty-seven. What if I don’t ever meet the one guy made for me? What if I miss my time and end up without a kid and without the love I’ve always craved and imagined of having, or better yet, living?
“Do you really want to get pregnant?’’
I nod against his side, my face brushing his firm pec. “Yes. I never told you this, but I’ve been thinking about it more and more. I’ve got a great job, money, and a great family, but I still want more than this.’’
He clears his throat, runs a hand up and down my arm while he keeps me securely pressed against him. “Then let me help you.’’
“What do you mean?’’
He releases me and faces me with the serious face he’s got since I first told him my plan in his office. It’s so out of character that it’s starting to worry me. I tilt my head to one side as he fidgets from one foot to the other, something he never does. From all the years I’ve known him, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him this nervous. He blows air and then locks his eyes into mine, freezing me on the spot.
“I’ll give you a baby.’’
I blink and gape at him. I shake my head and push away a stray hair trying to find its way in my mouth. “You’re not saying that you’re going to sleep with me, right?’’ I giggle and swat his arm at this sick joke.
But he doesn’t crack a smile, that breathtaking smile that is crooked and puts on display a set of dimples that are sigh-worthy. No, he’s standing straight as a ramrod in front of me, arms crossed over his broad chest and with a frown darkening his eyes.
“You want a baby, and I can give it to you. You know I don’t have any STDs, that I’m not a creep, and you have my medical family history. And I’m your best friend.’’
“No. Nuh-uh. Not happening.’’ I shake my head and hold up a hand to stop any other words to leave his mouth. Earlier he told me I was deep in crazy-land, but I think he’s farther into it than I could ever go.
“Why?’’
“Why? Why!’’ I pace in front of him, my mind running wild while I’m trying to block unwanted images to come up in my overwhelmed brain. I’ve known Brock since we both were in diapers. He’s my boy next door without the romantic ideas and longing that come with it. If there is one thing that made our friendship last, it’s the lack of sexual ambiguity between us. We never even kissed and now he’s going straight for the kill! “Brock, to make a baby we have to sleep together.’’
He arches an eyebrow and smirks at me. “I’m well aware of that, Addy.’’
“Sex! Between you and me!’’ I shake my head and pace again, not feeling the pain in my feet anymore. I don’t feel the cold seeping in my body either. “It’s impossible.’’
“Why not?’’
“Are you shitting me!’’ I yell at him, startling him. He takes a step back as if to ensure his safety. Wise decision, Brock. I take a deep breath, trying to calm down and go back to a more reasonable behavior than what I’m showing at the moment. “It would be too weird to sleep together.’’
“Because sleeping without protection with some random dude isn’t weird? Seriously, Addy, I’m giving you the best option you could hope for. What’s the issue?’’
I poke at his chest forcefully and cringe when his tight and perfectly formed abs resist my finger. “We’re best friends, and I don’t want it to end because your crazy manwhore mind thinks it’s a good idea without possible consequences.’’
“Hey!’’ He swats my hand away and leans down to bring his face near mine. “You’re the one who wants a kid at twenty-seven all of a sudden. I’m just willing to help you, and you’re making a scene. What is wrong with you women!’’
“Sexist pig!’’
He growls and turns around, giving me his back. “Lunatic!’’
“Shut up you… you…’’
He turns back to me. A crooked smirk slowly forms on his face, making my blood boil even more. “Yeah? Me what?’’
I yell something incoherent that I can’t define and humph, grabbing my phone to call for a taxi to go back home. I have had enough of this asswipe. His hand shoots forward, and he snatches my cell, leaving me gaping at my empty hand.
“Brock, give it back.’’ I tap my foot on the concrete ground, my anger rising fast. He's an immature jerk, and at his, it’s deplorable. “Now.’’
He chuckles and puts my phone in his pants pocket, obviously determined to not leave me out of the hook. Does he really want to talk about sex and us in the same sentence? I can’t believe it even crossed his mind. I never envisioned asking him to get me pregnant. He is handsome, and I might have had a few sexy dreams about him when I was a teenager and blossoming in my sexuality, but it never left dreamland, and I could count on the fingers of one hand how many times I dreamed about him and sex.
I could never sleep with him. Physically, it’s just impossible.
“Why are you so mad?’’
I relax and I let out a big sigh. I’m acting like an immature, prude girl when I should be more composed. Apparently, I can be composed and mature only at work in the safety of the building that has my family name on it. Outside of it, I tend to act like a teenager whenever something frazzles me.
“Can you imagine how weird it would be afterward between us? And don’t get me started on how impossible it would be to have sex with you. I’m sure it’s the same for you. I get it that you want to help and that you’re worried about me. As your usual protective self, you want to do anything for me, but this, it’s not gonna happen.’’
He leans against the dirty wall of the building’s bar and crosses his legs and arms. He’s all casual when I’m wrung tight from this insane chat. “Addy, sex is mechanical. You’re a woman, and I’m a man. It would work.’’
“I can’t with you,’’ I blurt out, pacing once again in front of him, my eyes watching my feet moving.
“You’re the first woman ever to tell me this.’’
I glance up and watch his bow-shaped, pink lips stretched in a disturbing twist. I’m sure he’s not used to someone turning him down, but I’m his oldest friend, his best friend. It’s not the same. “Suck it up, Casanova. Go back to the bar, find someone to have your way with and you’ll feel all better and forget everything about having sex with me.’’ I held up my hand, palm up to retrieve my phone, but he doesn’t move.
He cocks his head on one side, his jet black hair falling in his gold-brown eyes. “I will not let you pick any random guy for this, and I will follow you everywhere until I’m sure you either agree to let me help you or you give up on getting pregnant for now.’’ He casually shrugs as if it means nothing to him one way or the other.
I must be in another dimension. It’s the only explanation. How come he’s not weirded out or disgusted at the simple idea of having sex with me? Is he such a manwhore that he’s reduced to not caring at all with whom he’s getting dirty and sweaty? If so, he needs help ASAP.
“You know what? Let’s just forget it for tonight. I’ll go back home alone and think about it tomorrow. By then maybe I’ll convince myself that you didn’t really propose to have sex with me.’’
“I don’t understand why you make such a big deal of it, Addy.’’ He fishes my phone from his pocket and gives it back. I quickly snatch it before he changes his mind and put it out of my reach. I cradle it in between my hands and glare at him. His smile widens, carving his dimples deeper in his cheeks.
“I’m pretty sure your appendage hanging between your legs makes it impossible to understand.’’
He snorts and uncrosses his arms and legs to walk to me. “I’ll drive you home.’’
I roll my eyes and start walking to his car parked a couple of blocks away. “As if it makes you go out of your way. We live in the same building.’’
“And it’s Friday night, and I’m driving my best friend home. I’m not getting any action.’’
I scrunch my nose and tilt my head up. “I’m going to be sick if I have to think about having sex with you when you’ve been with someone else mere hours before.’’
“Does that mean you’re contemplating it?’’
I punch his upper arm and bite back a scream at the pain in my knuckles. He shouldn’t be this muscled. I glare harder at him as his rich and deep chuckle envelops me. He’s incredibly annoying, and even though I’m queasy just thinking about his proposition, I can’t forget about it either. After all, having a baby made with the person I trust the most in this world isn’t so bad. It would only mean an hour top of feeling uncomfortable and then I could pretend to myself that I conceived my baby with someone else.
I’m sure that I won’t sleep all night and it won’t be because I’m having too much fun. Great.