Layne
THE SECOND I step the through the door, Mandy is up in my space.
“Please tell me you agreed to go on a date with the huge hunk of man-meat that was in the parking lot! Come on, Layne!” Mandy screeches.
“Stop!” I laugh out. “Did you seriously call him ‘man-meat’?”
“Yes, ma’am, I did,” she replies. “I mean, I get you’re pretty much a virgin again, but you’re not fucking blind! He is absolutely scrumptious.”
I can’t help but laugh because Mandy has zero idea who he is. We may be best friends, but she has zero interest in baseball.
However, I am fully aware of the level of hotness Bryant Nash brings to the table, but I’m also aware he is a player. I’m past the juvenile stage in my life. When it comes to guys in general, I always have to take into consideration that Gracie is my first priority and if a guy isn’t “stepdad” material from the word go, there is no point in getting myself wrapped up in him.
If Mandy had even the smallest inkling the hot guy she’s trying to get me to jump into bed with is none other than the Bryant Nash, she’d be even more obsessed.
“The sheer size of him makes me want to climb him like a spider monkey,” she replies, getting a faraway look in her eyes. Shaking my head, I push her toward the back of the bar. It’s time to get her on a different track.
“Are you going out tonight or are we gonna sit here and shoot the shit?” I bite out, trying to sound irritated but failing miserably.
Mandy takes a step forward before swinging around and stopping inches from my face.
“Not covered in your parking lot dirt I’m not!” she screeches at me, making me laugh. “You can try to sidetrack this conversation all you want, but I saw the way you looked at him. You want him, and the feeling is mutual. I’m not new, Layne! I know the look!” Mandy jeers.
“Fine. I’m going to dinner with him tomorrow. Now will you stop screeching like a high school cheerleader over a prom date?”
“Ayeeeeee!” she screams, jumping up and down like she got the best news of her life.
“What the hell, Mandy?” I holler when she grabs me around the waist and starts spinning around in a circle.
She stops quickly, causing us to ram into each other and almost topple over. We really are a hot mess.
I watch as the look on Mandy’s face morphs from happy-go-lucky to happy-friend-with-concern in about two point five seconds flat.
She wraps her arms around me and pulls me to her, not saying anything at first. When I feel like this situation has moved past normal, I pull away and look at the tears shimmering in her eyes.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask her seriously.
Before responding, she pushes me and barks out, “Seriously? You haven’t had a real date since Garrett and before Gracie was born. I’m excited for you.”
“Wait. You know I’ve been on other dates. I mean, you’ve helped me pick out my clothes for other dates. You’ve done my hair for other dates. You’ve sat with Gracie for other dates. What are you talking about?”
She regards me seriously for several seconds before responding, “You and I both know you’ve been going through the motions.” She takes a deep breath before she continues with her serious tone. “You’ve pacified me with your ‘See, Mandy, I’m going on a date so please don’t push this topic’ for years, Layne.” She takes another deep breath. “But I see something different in the way you look at this Brian guy.”
“Bryant,” I correct her.
“See, right there,” she retorts. “You’ve never cared enough about the other so-called ‘dates’ to correct me about their name.”
She’s right. Completely, without a doubt, true.
Since I realized the level of asshole a guy could become when I got pregnant with Gracie, I’ve not given one guy the benefit of the doubt. Sure, I’ve gone out on dates. A few with guys from the bar. A few from random mutual friends hooking us up. But in the years since I got pregnant with Gracie, I’ve never once gotten butterflies the way I have since the moment Bryant Nash walked into my bar a week ago. And, much to my surprise, it has nothing to do with the fact he is a MLB player, and everything to do with him.
I’ve been attracted to men since Garrett. I mean, I’m not a freaking nun. I have wants, needs, and desires. But not one of them has made me overlook the things I hold most dear. Not one of them has made me want to rethink my stance on being a strong, single mom who can take on the world alone.
And then Bryant Nash walked into my bar and turned all of that upside down. He makes me feel different, even though I’m not sure I want him too.
“Whatever, girl. I’m only having dinner with him. No big deal,” I finally respond.
Mandy regards me carefully, taking in my demeanor and facial expressions. She knows me better than anyone, and I know she sees through my bullshit.
“Whatever you say, Born Again Virgin,” she laughs out.
I choose to ignore her and push her toward the door so we can get out of here. I’ve had enough of this day.
Gracie is at Garrett’s until Monday, and I could use about twenty-four hours of sleep. Considering my date with Bryant is in about seventeen hours, I know I better get home and sleep like the dead.
“Good night, Mandy. I love you. Now I’m going home to sleep for as many hours as possible,” I tell her, pulling her into one final hug before I head for the main doors to walk her out.
“Night, bitch.”
“Get out. I’ll call you in a few days.”
“I better get a call tomorrow night after you lay that gorgeous man out,” she says, laughing, but with a serious tone to her voice.
“Oh, girl, I’m gonna have Slam Nash eating out of my hand by the end of the night.” I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth because I see the recognition on her face, and before she can respond, I push her through the doors, locking them behind her.
“That was Slam?” she screeches through the closed door.
“Good night, Mandy!” I holler. “I’ll call you in a few days.”
I can hear her cussing me and chuckle to myself. It only takes me a moment to realize what I’ve done.
I have a date with Bryant fucking Nash.
Lord give me strength. He is going to test every single ounce of my patience. I can feel it now.