Six
Cari
I didn’t hear him knock. Probably because he didn’t. Conner isn’t really the knocking type, he just lets himself in. Wherever he pleases, whenever he feels like it. One of the several hundred things I envy about him. I look over to find him leaning against the door jam, trying not to look impressed with the work I’ve managed to put in on the room, despite the fact I’m working sixty-hours a week with this brother.
“Come on,” he says, giving me an impatient clap of his hands. “It’s quittin’ time Cap’n.”
“I wish you’d stop calling me that.”
“You’d rather I call you Boogey Nights?”
I bend over to load paint onto my roller, barely sparing him a glance. “I fucking hate you sometimes, you know that?”
“Cap’n it is.” Conner grins at me, pleased with himself for getting a rise out of me. “You gonna come downstairs at some point or are you too busy to drink beer with your favorite cousin?”
I look over my shoulder, pushing the paint roller upward, as close to the ceiling as I can get.
“Declan’s working?” I say, laying the roller in its paint tray to step back so I can admire my work. I’ve been renovating the apartment over Gilroy’s for the past few years and this bedroom is the last piece of the puzzle.
“Fuck you,” Conner says, laughing despite his harsh words, casting his gaze around the room. “Looks pretty good in here, man,” he concedes with an approving nod. “When you moving in?”
I’ve been living here while I work on the place but I’ve been camped out in the room down the hall, which is cramped and dim—nothing like the room we’re in now.
“As soon as the paint dries,” I say with a grin, taking a long, appraising look of my own. I’d expanded the space, knocking down the wall between this room and looked like what used to be our grandmother’s sewing room, adding another hundred square feet of space. Now there’s plenty of light and space for my drafting table and the king-sized bed I’d bought at a flea market a few weeks ago.
“Well, come on then,” he says, giving his hands an impatient clap. “Tess is whipping my ass at pool. I need back-up and it’s hot as balls up here.”
“Alright,” I say, lifting the hem of my shirt to wipe sweat off my face. I’d been putting off opening the vents that lead up from the bar. My uncle Paddy—Con and Declan’s dad—rents the place to me, utilities included, but I don’t like the idea of jacking up Gilroy’s electric bill just so I don’t have to sweat. I pick up the roller and disposable paint tray off the drop-cloth covered floor and tossed it in the trash. “Cari show up?” I say as casually as I can but Conner isn’t buying it.
“Legs?” he says, using the nickname he gave Cari the night he met her. The smile on his face says he used it just to piss me off. “No—although, I’ve been up here with you for about fifty-seven years, so who knows? She might’ve shown, met the love of her life, gotten married, had kids and died by now.”
“Okay, okay…” I push past him on my way down the hall, “Get out of here so I can shower,” I tell him as I strip off my shirt, heading down the hall to the bathroom.
“You don’t want me to wash your back, Cap’n?” Conner calls after me, grinning so wide I can hear it in his voice.
“Fuck off,” I say, just before I slam the door.
“Are you guys twins?”
I’m about three pints in, building a good buzz, when she finally asks. I knew it was coming—they always ask—but even though genetically, my cousins and I are siblings, the idea of Conner and me sharing a womb still makes me laugh.
“No.” If she’d asked Conner, he would’ve given her some bullshit answer like he made me with one of those 3D printers or that I’m a sentient robot he build his freshman year at MIT. “We’re cousins.” I say, draining my pint. “Our identical twin fathers married identical twin sisters. Stir that together and you get us.” I look at Conner, standing on the other side of the pool table, head ducked so he can talk to Tess. Looking at Conner is like looking in a mirror. Or it would be if I stopped shaving, cutting my hair and giving a shit about my general appearance. Same dark hair. Same green eyes. Same everything… right down to our dimples. Well, almost everything. His jawline is a little leaner. I’m an inch and a half taller. His left arm is completely sleeved out with tattoos, with more splashed across his chest and back. We’re not truly identical but we look enough alike to give people pause.
The girl bounces a look between Con and me before landing on me with a smile. “You’re way hotter.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Despite his worn jeans, three-day beard and IDGAF attitude, Conner is the heavy hitter between the two of us. In fact, I’d be hard-pressed to look around Gilroy’s and find a girl he hasn’t had under him. Me? Well, let’s just say it’s been a while.
I clear my throat. “You want to break?” We’re playing pool—Con, Tess and some girl he sweet talked into being my partner. I think her name is Sara. I’m not 100% sure, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings by asking.
“You do it,” she says, laying a hand on my bicep, fingers digging in just enough to let me know she’s interested in more than playing pool. “I’m good at a lot of things but pool isn’t one of them.”
I give her a non-committal smile, leaning over the table, positioning my cue in front of the balls Con just racked, giving them a serious crack that scatters balls across the felt. She’s cute but I’m not really feeling it.
That’s when I see Cari through the window, standing on the sidewalk outside the bar on her cell. She’s still wearing those red heels, only this time she’s wearing a dress that makes me glad I’m hunched over a pool table. Tight black lace, barely this side of decent with whisper thin straps that leave her shoulders and back bare. As usual, the sight of her makes me hard.
It takes me a second to realize she’s arguing with someone, mouth moving rapidly, voice raised so I can hear the hum of it through the glass. Ending the call in what looked like mid-sentence, she jams the cell into her bag and disappears around the corner, heading toward the front door of the pub.
“There’s Cari,” Tess says, fitting her fingers into her mouth to give a short whistle to get her attention. As soon as she sees us, Cari smiles and points, signaling she’s making a trip to the bar before she heads our way.
“Another drink?” I drain my pint before nodding at my pool partner’s empty glass. She shoots a quick glance at the table where a bunch of her girlfriends are watching us. Letting some random guy at a bar bring you a drink isn’t smart but I can tell she’s about to say yes, against her better judgment. “Why don’t you come with me?” I say on impulse. I don’t want to be responsible for this girl trusting the next guy who makes the same offer.
I take Tess and Con’s order before leading Sara through the crowded bar. At some point, she threads her fingers through mine. “I almost lost you,” she says with a laugh, giving herself an excuse to grab my hand. I give her another smile and don’t pull away because I don’t want to be rude.
Declan is behind the bar tonight and seeing me push my way to the front, he ignores the crowd of frat boys and college bros, flipping a pint glass off the rack to build me a Guinness. Cari is standing a few feet away. With James. He must’ve been hiding out at the bar, waiting for her to show up. They’re being quiet about it but I can tell that they’re arguing. He must’ve been who she was on the phone with.
With one eye on Cari, I watch Declan set my pint down before he holds up the mixer gun. “Cran or sour?” he says loudly, smiling at the girl next to me. Gilroy’s college girls drink one of two things—whiskey sours or cranberry and Malibu.
She flushes. She’s been drinking whiskey sours all night. “I’ll take a Guinness,” she says, tightening her grip on my hand.
Declan gives her a dubious glance but builds her a pint anyway. “Con too?” he says, already moving for another glass.
“Yeah,” I say, distracted by the drama unfolding a few feet away. James keeps reaching for Cari’s arm and she keeps pulling away, shaking her head. “Tess wants a—”
“I know what Tess drinks,” Declan says, his tone tight enough to pull my attention away from Cari. I watch as he places a single ice cube in a rocks glass before adding two fingers of Jameson.
“I said no!” Cari says loudly and I look back just in time to see her throw her drink in James’ face. She turns to make her getaway but he’s too fast for her.
“Bitch,” he shouts, reaching for her arm, his fingers so tight around her bicep the tips of them disappear into her flesh as he starts to haul her close. People are paying attention now, the immediate crowd surrounding them gone quiet, but no one tries to intervene.
Drinks and the girl standing next to me forgotten, I take two strides and push into the middle of it, bringing myself nose to nose with Cari’s boyfriend. “Hey, James,” I say, keeping my tone conversational. “You’re gonna want to let go of her arm. Now.”
“Yeah,” he sneers at me. From the corner of my eye, I can see his fingers dig in deeper. “What are you gonna do about it, boy scout?” We’ve spend enough time together over the past nine months to decide that we didn’t like each other but we’ve always been nice for Cari’s sake. That’s over now.
“What am I gonna do?” Without looking, I reach a hand across the bar, smiling a few seconds later when I grip my fingers around the smooth handle of the baseball bat that Declan passes me from behind the bar. “I’m gonna invite you out back and when we get there, I’m going to take this bat to your fucking head,” I tell him, my tone still pleasant. “How’s that sound?”
James is drunk but he’s not stupid. His gaze shifting between the four of us, he lets go of Cari. “Keep her,” he says, mopping the vodka soda Cari threw at him off his face, before giving her an ugly look. “She’s a slut anyway.”
The slur has me jerking at the bat, but Declan still has ahold of the other end and he won’t let it go. “Easy,” he says under his breath. At least that’s what I think he says. My blood is rushing so loud in my ears that he could be reciting the Gettysburg Address for all I know.
We all watch him weave his way toward the door, the crowd parting, making a jagged path for him until he’s gone. As soon as the door swings shut behind him, the crowd lets out a cheer.
“That was a new one,” Declan says, stashing the bat back behind the bar. James is gone and Sara is back at the table her friends are crowded around, all of them shooting me looks that range from wary to lustful. I don’t really care about any of it though. Tell the truth, I just want them to leave and take Sara with them.
Tess has Cari cornered in Conner’s booth, trying to calm her down. Not that she’s hysterical. In fact, she looks so angry that I expect her to demand the bat from Dec so she can go after James and finish what I started.
“Why?” I say, cutting Declan a look. I know what he’s talking about. “Because I’m a pussy?”
“Bitch, please.” Now he laughs at me. “I’ve seen you go to work—I know you’re not a pussy. But you usually look for a more diplomatic solution before you ask for the bat.”
“So, what?” I’m getting irritated which is a new one for me where Declan is concerned. Out of the three of us, Dec and I are the most alike. It’s Conner who usually manages to piss me off. “I’m a nice guy and nice guys can’t stick up for his friends?”
“Is that what that was?” Declan says, calling me on my obvious bullshit. It’s last call and the crowd has moved on to various frat houses and off campus housing to continue the party. It’s quiet but I pretend not to hear him, even though I can hear him just fine.
No. That’s not what that was and we both know it. That wasn’t about me defending a friend and we both know it. It was about Cari and the way I feel about her.
Declan shoots a quick glance over my shoulder before looking me in the eye. “Look, cousin, take it from—”
Before he can say what’s on his mind, Sara breaks into our conversation.
“That was nice, what you did for that girl,” she says, her hand back on my arm. “Not a lot of guys would’ve done that.”
“She’s a friend,” I say, the automatic answer that explains everything I’ve done or will ever do for Cari.
I must’ve said something right because Sara smiles. “Some of us are headed back to my place,” she says, looking over her shoulder toward the table where her friends are waiting. “Wanna come?”
I might be a nice guy but I’m not so nice that I don’t catch the double meaning in her words. If I go with her, we’re going to end up fucking.
I almost tell her she’s got the wrong Gilroy. That the one she wants looks just like me and is currently chatting up one of her friends. Instead, I smile and let her down gently. “I’ve got work in the morning,” I tell her, shooting Declan a quick glance. He knows I don’t have work tomorrow but he keeps his mouth shut.
“Okay…” She leans into me, pressing her mouth against mine, her tongue licking at its corner before she straightens. When she does, she has my cell in her hand. “Text me when you’ve got some free time,” she says, putting her contact information into my phone before handing it back.
“Absolutely,” I say even though I know I don’t mean it.
Seven
Cari
My favorite thing about Tess is that she won’t ask what happened with James. She’ll let me come to it on my own, in my own time. But I’m not ready. I’m too angry. Too keyed up to answer without losing my shit. When I saw Declan hand that bat to Patrick, I wanted to grab it and use it to cave James’ face in. I’m still thinking about it. Which isn’t like me at all.
I’m usually the one who goes looking for a reconciliation. Apologizing for things that aren’t my fault. Begging for another chance, even though I’m not the one who should be on my knees. The shift isn’t entirely pleasant but it’s something that makes me feel strong. Ready for whatever life has in store for me. I don’t need James. I don’t need anyone.
“Are you sure you’re okay,” Tess says, glaring at my arm. Bruises are already starting to form. “I can get Con to go grab you some ice.”
“No,” I say. Even though my arm is sore, I don’t want any ice. I like the feeling. It feels like I finally stood up for myself. “But I wouldn’t turn down another vodka soda.”
Even though Declan’s called last call, Tess leans out of our booth to signal Con and he nods, putting his blonde on ice so he can get us another round. I want to ask Tess why she won’t just go up there and get it from Declan herself but I don’t. Because that’s not what Tess and I do. We don’t ask. No matter how much we want to.
My gaze follows him, but it lands on Patrick. He’s sitting at the bar, talking to Declan and the girl he’s been with all night. She’s got her hand on his arm and she’s smiling, gesturing toward the door like she wants him to leave with her. Then she kisses him and I feel something clench inside my gut. Something that feels a lot like jealousy. When she walks off alone, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“Well, that’s interesting.”
I turn my head to see Tess looking at me, a slim dark brown arched over warm hazel eyes. Heat collects below my collarbone, and I know my birthmark is practically glowing, it’s so red. Between what happened with James and the embarrassment of getting caught spying on Patrick, it’s a wonder the stupid thing hasn’t burned a hole in chest. “How’s work going?” I ask, making Tess laugh.
“Blah, blah, re-built carburetors. Blah, blah, clutch replacement. Blah, blah, dropped a fuel tank,” she says because she knows I don’t understand much about her job as a mechanic. She knows I don’t really care either. I just want to change the subject. “What about you?” she says, having mercy on me. “When do you start your fancy art job?”
“Monday.” The mention of my new job brings on an excited flush. “I’m even more nervous now that I’ve got the job. I want this so bad and I’m afraid that I’m going to mess it up somehow.”
“Impossible.” I look up to see Patrick stand outside the booth, a friendly smile on his face. Not at all like the guy who threated to put my ex-boyfriend in a coma less than an hour ago. Guinness in one hand and my vodka soda in the other, he hands me my drink and I smile back, sliding across the seat to make room for him. He hasn’t asked me about James yet either. To be honest, I’m not sure what I would say to him, even if he did.
“Is your new boss a guy?” Conner says, sitting down next to Tess, forcing her to scoot across the booth. “Because if he is, all you have to do is wear that dress to work, every day.” He gives me the lopsided grin he uses to charm college girls out of their panties. “Because, seriously—employee of the month. Every month.”
“Oh, my god,” Tess says, jerking her drink out of Conner’s grasp. “You are the biggest asshole I’ve ever met in my life.”
Conner leans into her. “You better be glad about it too,” he says, flicking the tip of her nose with his tongue, making her squeal. “If I wasn’t such an asshole, you’d be panting after me, morning, noon and night.”
She pushes him back and he lets her with a laugh. “You want to know why I’m not panting after you like the rest of your groupies?”
Conner gives her a bland smile. “Because you don’t know a good thing when you see it?”
Tess returns his smile with a sweet look that all but guarantees a verbal slaughter. “Because I’ve seen you naked.”
“We were seven, sweetheart.” Conner leans back in his seat, full of swagger that entirely unfounded. “Things change.”
Despite the exchange, Conner and Tess sound more like brother and sister, giving each other a hard time. Three years ago, I mistook them for a couple. Now, the thought of them together makes me laugh.
“I’m taking off,” Declan appears at the edge of the booth, hands dug into the pocket of his jeans, gaze nailed to his brother’s face. “Jessica wants to go look at wedding venues tomorrow.” He pulls a key from his pocket and tosses it at Conner. “Lock up.”
Something his brother says turns Conner’s easy smile black around its edges. “Sure thing, Dec,” he says, his tone hard. He snatches the key from the air before cocking his head. “Hey, before you go, can you help me convince Tess to come home with me and sit on my face? So I can show her how a Gilroy’s supposed to do it.”
It wasn’t any lewder or more disgusting that anything else he’s ever said but something about his tone sounds off. Angry. Defiant. My gaze instantly flies to Tess’ face but her eyes are glued to the drink in her hand, knuckles white from with the force of her grip. Usually she’d punch him in the arm or smack him upside the head. Right now, she looks like she’s having a hard time just breathing.
Something clicks and I take another look at Declan. He’s got that same punched-in-the-gut look Tess has.
“Jesus, Con,” Patrick says, wiping his hand across his mouth, smothering his words. I feel his knee press into mine, ready to launch himself between the two brothers if it comes to that.
Color drains from Declan’s face a second before his jaw flexes, his gaze pulled for a split second toward Tess before landing it on his little brother. “What did you say?”
“You heard me, fuckstick,” Conner says, his smile flattening out into something dangerous. “At least I’m loyal.”
Declan let out a strangled sound that might have been a laugh. “Loyal? You’re fucking kidding me, right?” His hands were working, clenching into fists and then relaxing, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to choke his brother or not. “You’ll stick your dick into any—”
“Enough.” Patrick drops his hand away from his mouth, slamming it against the table in front of him, hard enough to make me jump in my seat. “Leave it alone,” he says, splitting a look between them, his tone reverberating with more authority than I thought he was capable of. He and Conner measure in at well over six-feet but eyeballing him, Declan is even taller, his framed packed with an additional twenty pounds of muscle. Despite the size advantage, Patrick’s warning seemed to give him pause.
For his part, Conner seemed content to heed his cousin. He just takes a long drink from his pint and holds his brother’s glare.
“Fuck you, Conner,” Declan says before aiming his gaze at Patrick. “See you Sunday.” He turned away and headed for the door.
“Give Jess a big, sloppy wet one for me,” Conner called after him, refusing to let his brother get the last word. “Oh, and fuck you back.”
Declan flipped him off as he walked out the door.
As soon as he’s gone, Conner slouches in his seat and sighs. “Fuck,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over the top of his head. He turns toward Tess. “I’m sorry,” he says, uncharacteristically contrite. “It’s just—I got mad. Mentioning her…” He shakes his head, jaw clenched. “He’s such an arrogant prick sometimes.”
Tess looked at him, more shaken than angry. “As opposed to you, who’s an arrogant prick all the time?” she says, pushing her unfinished drink away like looking at it made her sick.
“I deserve that,” Conner says, seemingly at a loss for how to fix things before bumping his shoulder against hers, hoping for a smile. “Want me to take you to the bathroom and make you feel better?”
“Thanks, but getting Gilroyed isn’t going to make me feel better.” Tess cracks a smile, because where Conner is concerned, it’s impossible for her to stay angry for long. “It’ll make me vomit.”
Crisis averted, Conner grinned for real. “One of these days, you’re going to damage my self-esteem.”
“Here’s hoping,” Tess says, picking up her glass and hoisting it high and we all laugh, clinking glasses.
“I’d like to propose another toast,” Conner says, lifting his pint again. “To my devastatingly handsome and more than slightly uptight cousin, who almost, actually got some tonight. Kudos, Cap’n.”
Patrick’s shoulder stiffened against mine but he laughs and clinks his glass against Conner’s. “Sara was nice. Just not my type.”
“So, you don’t go for hot women who are inexplicably into you? Interesting...” Tess says, shooting Conner a perplexed look before aiming it across the table. “If she’s not your type, then who is?”
Patrick opened his mouth then clamped it shut, his jaw flexing hard enough to cause a vein to pop in his temple before he opened it again. “I—”
“I have a toast too,” I blurt out, picking up my glass. “My roommate gave me four days to move out and I caught James fucking his intern in his office this afternoon.” I force a smile and tip my drink in salute. “So, here’s to me.”
Eight
Patrick
We all sit here for a few seconds, trying to digest what Cari just said. For my part, I’m glad she walked in on James and his intern. Maybe her resolve to break it off with him will stick this time.
“If you take him back, I’m going to kill you,” Tess said, reaching across the table to dig an ice cube out of Cari’s glass. “Seriously. I’ll kill you.”
Cari laughed and the sound is easy, like taking James back wasn’t even under consideration. “If I even think of taking him back, I might kill myself.”
“Well…” Tess rolled her stolen ice cube across her tongue, eyes narrowed. “Then I’ll kill your roommate.”
The mention of her roommate deflated Cari’s good mood. “I’d pay you to kill that yogurt-stealing whore it if I wasn’t almost homeless and destitute,” she says, sitting back to press her shoulders into the back of the booth. “I have less than $200 dollars to my name and I’m not going to ask my parents. They’ve done enough for me. Too much, actually.”
“What about the new boss?” Conner says, spinning his empty pint in a slow circle on the table in front of him. “You could ask for an advance.”
“No way.” Cari shakes her head like her hair is on fire. “I’m not starting out what I hope is a long and profitable professional relationship with Miranda McIntyre by begging her for money.”
“Wait—your new boss is a woman? Why didn’t you say so?” Conner says, giving Cari what I’ve coined the Gilroy grin. “I’ll just fuck it out of her for you. By the time I’m done, she’ll be begging you to take her money.”
“First of all—gross,” Tess says, shooting the kind of look martyred saints always wear in religious painting in Conner’s direction. “And second—she’s right. She can’t ask her new boss for money before she’s even started her job.” She shrugs her shoulders and I know what she’s going to say next. She’s going to offer Cari a place to stay.
“Why don’t you just move in with me.” I blurt it out, drawing looks from around the table. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have the room. In fact, I just finished putting up a fresh coat of paint in the spare room. It’s yours if you want it.”
Conner, tilts his head, mouth open, ready to ruin everything. I kick him under the table and he shuts his trap. I smile, hoping like hell I look relaxed and calm. Like it’s the perfect solution to Cari’s problem instead of the answer to my prayers.
Cari shakes her head. “Thanks for the offer but—”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Tess announces, shoving at Conner’s shoulder to let her out of the booth. “Come with me, Cari. You know my bladder doesn’t work right unless you’re in the same room while I pee.”
“You’re disgusting,” Conner says, helping her out of the booth.
“Guess that means we are perfect for each other,” Tess says, shifting from one foot the other, waiting for me to let Cari out.
Cari starts to laugh but as soon as she’s free, Tess grabs her hand and hauls her across the deserted bar, toward the ladies’ room.
“What are you doing?”
I look across the table to find Conner watching me—uneasy, like he thinks I might have rabies. I can pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about but that would mean I have hope that he’ll just let it go. Which I don’t. Instead, I just shrug. “She’s broke and almost homeless, what am I supposed to do, Con? She’s my friend.”
“The two of you aren’t friends,” Conner says, his tone hard and final. “You might pretend to be but you’re not.” He shakes his head at me like I’ve disappointed him somehow. “You want to fuck her. I don’t know about you but I don’t usually fuck my friends.”
“You don’t have any friends,” I say, trying to deny the fact that he’s right.
“I have Tess,” Conner shoots back, leaning back in his seat.
“She doesn’t count,” I say shaking my head. Tess and Conner have been best friends since we were kids.
“You know why she doesn’t count?” He smiles at me. “Because I don’t want to fuck her.”
“Stop saying that,” I growl at him, throwing a look over my shoulder to make sure we’re still alone. “Cari needs my help and I’m going to give it to her.”
“Okay,” Conner says, conceding with a toss of his hands. “But at least admit that you didn’t offer her a place to live because you’re a nice guy. You offered her a place to live because you want to—”
Behind me, I can hear Tess and Cari on their way back to the table. “I will punch you in the face.” I said it quietly and Conner laughs just as they made it back to the table.
“Okay,” Cari says, the birthmark on her chest a deep, rosy pink. She’s excited and I can’t help but want to believe that it’s because she’s moving in with me, not just because she’s successfully avoided homelessness. “If you’re serious, I’ll do it. I’ll move in.”
Nine
Cari
As soon as we’re in the bathroom, Tess flings me inside and shuts the door, spinning around, to press her back against it. “Say yes.”
“Say yes?” I shake my head, instantly dismissing her advice. “I can’t say yes, Tess.”
“Why can’t you?” She says it like I forgot to take my medication.
“Because he didn’t mean it—it’s just Patrick… being Patrick.” I cross my arms over my chest. “He was only offering to be nice.”
“Who cares,” she hisses at me, throwing her hands up in the air again. “He’s such a sweetheart, he won’t back out. Once you say yes, he’ll be stuck.”
“That’s horrible,” I hiss back at her, crossing my arms over my chest. “I can’t do that to him.”
“Bullshit you can’t. You’ve been lusting after Gilroy for years.”
“What? No.” I shake my head, my chest so hot, I can feel the heat of in my back. “Patrick and I are friends.”
“Really? Friends?” Tess laughs at me. “I saw you. You were about three seconds from dragging that little college skank out of Gilroy’s by her hair.”
I was caught. There was no use denying it. “So? Moving in with Patrick isn’t going to change anything.”
“It will if you tell him how feel.” Tess is looking at me but I have a strange feeling she’s talking to herself.
“What happened with Declan?” I say, breaking our unspoken vow to not ask. The exasperated look on her face gives way and for a second she looks like I sucker-punched her. “Shit.” I suddenly know what it was like to be Conner Gilroy. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“We dated the summer before I turned seventeen. He was nineteen. Things were great. Better than great. It felt like forever.” She raked a hand through her long dark hair and let out a shaky sigh. “And then it didn’t.”
I didn’t have to ask what happened. I could see it on her face. Declan broke her heart. “I’m sorry, Tess.” I say quietly.
“It was a long time ago. I’ve moved on.” She gives me the kind of smile that almost convinces me she’s telling the truth. “Conner hasn’t, but I have,” she says with a laugh that succeeds in breaking the tension in the air. “I don’t understand what the big deal is. You’re not exactly shy when it comes to getting what you want.”
She’s right. As far as partners go, I’m no Conner Gilroy—but I’m no shy virgin either. But just because she’s right doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting to hear her say it out loud. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She must hear the hurt in my tone because she sighs. “You’re not a slut. You’re not. There’s nothing wrong with a woman enjoying sex and fuck James Templeton. He’s a dickbag and I’ve always hated him and his smarmy, smug, dickbag face.”
I laugh, even though I know she’s being serious. She’s a solid six inches shorter than I am and tiny. I mean tiny—but if Tess ever got her hands on James I know he’d limp away, missing more than a few vital parts. “You’re so adorable when you get angry—you’re like a homicidal Tinkerbell.”
“Fuck you, Faraday,” she says but she’s smiling at me so I know she doesn’t mean it. “But seriously, maybe a couple bouts of respectable, puritan sex with Predictable Patrick is just what you need to cleanse the palate.”
Predictable Patrick. We’ve been calling him that behind his back for years. Safe, predictable Patrick. He’s nothing like the guys I usually go for. For starters, he’s nice. Guys like him go for Kindergarten teachers who wear pastel-colored sweater sets and volunteer at soup kitchens on the weekends.
That’s not me.
Not even close.
Patrick hadn’t even known me and he’d agreed to take me home. I practically gave him a hand job in my driveway but instead of dragging me into the backseat—where I’d have gone willingly—he waited for me to finish embarrassing myself and said goodnight. He even waited for me to let myself in before he drove away. Three years later and I can still remember what it felt like to have his mouth on mine.
“I can’t do that,” I tell her shaking my head. I wish I had the guts to make the first move but I don’t. Not with Patrick. Not again. Because if he rejected me all over again, I’m not sure I’d recover.
“Okay,” she says, attacking the problem from a different angle. “So, we’re gonna have to force him to come to you.”
“Force him?” I place a hand on my forehead and let out a sigh. “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation,” I say, letting out a sharp bark of laughter.
“Well, we are.” Tess leans into the space between us. “Because that boy is too buttoned-up for his own good. He’s never going to make a move on you...” She gave a mischievous grin. “Unless you push him into it.”
“And how do you I suggest I do that?” I can’t believe she’s suggesting any of it. “Traipse around his apartment naked? Offer to loofa his back while he’s taking a shower?”
“Not naked—” That grin of her turned downright evil. “half-naked should do nicely... and the loofa wouldn’t hurt.” She looks at me like I’m crazy for even considering passing up the opportunity.
“It’ll never work,” I tell her. “Patrick is different than most guys. He’s not going to make a move on me, just because I make him horny. He’s a gentleman.” A gorgeous, sexy as fuck gentleman.
“He’s into you,” Tess says, shaking her head at me, refusing to let it go.
Now I know she’s crazy. “He’s really not, Tess.” I laugh. “Trust me, I know.”
“He was ready to take a bat to James’ head.” She said it like she was presenting key evidence in the trial of the century. “And he would’ve too, if dickface Declan hadn’t stopped him.”
Dickface Declan. I smother another laugh while shaking my head. “He would’ve done the same thing for you and you know it,” I say and the look on her face tells me she knows I’m right.
“Anyway, who cares if you’re his type?” Tess raked a hand through her long, dark hair. “You wanna ride his disco stick—not marry him, right?”
I hold up a hand between us. “Please—don’t say disco stick again. Ever,” I say, my face scrunched up but she wasn’t wrong. I’d been secretly drooling over Patrick since that night in his car... “And yes, I do,” I say cautiously. “But he’ll never fall for it.”
“I beg to differ.” Tess shakes her head at me like I’m a lost, little lamb.
“I know Patrick.” I know he doesn’t want me. “It will never work.”
“Alright Faraday...” Tess grinned at me. “Put your money were your mouth is.”
The second I say yes, Patrick drags me upstairs to his apartment to show me the place and he’s right. The spare bedroom is perfect.
It’s large—taking up a third of the apartment’s square footage—and bright. The interior walls are painted a lovely slate blue which offset the exposed the brick of their exterior counterparts. Gorgeous hardwood peeked out from beneath the drop cloth he used to protect the floor while he painted. He’s torn out the ceiling, and exposed the beams, the steep angle of the roof setting off a beautiful arched alcove. The wrought iron bed he picked up at a flea market a few weeks ago is set up across from an enormous bay window with the most fantastic view of the harbor I’ve ever seen. Patrick’s room is little more than a cave by comparison.
“You only want $200 a month for this?” I shake my head, turning a slow circle. I caught the smell of fresh paint and the faint scent of sawdust. “That hardly seems fair, Patrick.”
“Just until you get settled into your job,” he says in a reasonable tone. “After that, we can renegotiate the rent.”
I’m not convinced. “This is your room. You’ve been working on it for months,” I say, shaking my head. “I can’t—”
Now he smiled. “See this?” he says, pointing toward the beautiful bay window I’d been admiring. “The light from this window is amazing. It’s the perfect place to set up your easel.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. He was willing to give up this amazing room so I can have the perfect place to paint. “It’s also the perfect place to set up a drafting table.”
He shrugs. “It’s worth giving up if I can use the air conditioner,” he says. “As it stands, I don’t want to turn it on because I don’t want to jack up the bar’s electric bill. An extra two-hundred bucks a month will cover the difference.”
What he’s saying makes sense. Hearing it makes me feel better about taking advantage of him. Because I’m not taking advantage of him. We’re helping each other out. I’ve almost managed to convince myself when he speaks up again.
“The only catch is that the bed stays.” He looks at the bed in the middle of the room, pulled away from the wall so he could paint. “It’s too big for my room and it took me, Con and Declan to get it up here,” he says with a laugh. “I don’t think I can talk them into another move.”
I look at the bed and think of my own pitiful super single. The same bed I’ve been sleeping in since I was fourteen years old. I’d gladly leave it on the curb.
I can feel myself caving. Who was I kidding? I knew I was going to say yes. I couldn’t say no to Patrick if I tried. “Only if you’re sure.”
Knowing he’s worn me down, Patrick gives me a satisfied smile. “We’re friends—this is what friends do for each other, right?”
Friends. Right.
“Right.” I swallow the lump in my throat and nod my head. “So, when can I move in?”