Bryant
SHE SAID YES. Now what?
I’ve never met a woman who makes me lose my mind and do things I wouldn’t normally do. Like basically beg her to go on a date with me.
And here I am, hours later, unable to sleep. Her beautiful face and tough exterior keep running through my mind. What is it about this woman? She knew exactly who I was from the word go but treated me like any other random guy walking into the bar.
Looking over at the clock, I see it’s already five in the morning and I’ve gotten zero sleep. Might as well get up and go for a run.
Lacing up my shoes before heading down my front steps, I stop only to put my earbuds in as I hear Sarina, my crazy stalker from next door, yell my name. I pretend not to hear her and turn the music up loud before starting off at a slow jog in the direction of the lake. She won’t follow me. I know this from past experience. I seriously doubt she even owns a pair of shoes lower than four inches. Without even giving her a glance, I know she’s dressed to the nines, at five o’clock in the morning. I’ve never seen her in anything but full makeup and hair. It’s like she has a live-in stylist.
When she moved in last year, I thought she was nice, and she’s definitely not hard on the eyes. I even considered hooking up with her. She hadn’t been living here long when she followed me and some of the guys to a local club one Friday night. She denied following us, but I saw her. So, strike one. Liar.
The entire time we were there, she kept trying to push her way into our conversations, and every single time, she flipped the topic to her. She shot death glares at every woman who came within a ten-foot radius of us, and even worse, she was a judgmental bitch on top of it. Needless to say, her personality completely knocked out any idea I had of hooking up with her. The older I get, the pickier I get about whose bed I warm. She was definitely out of the running.
The guys and I ended up making a run for it while she was in the bathroom, and I’ve done everything in my power to avoid her ever since. She never seems to take the hint though. I’m never rude to her, but I’m short with my answers and don’t engage her in conversation. Ever.
I’ve noticed she’s been stepping up her game recently though. She came over to borrow a couple of eggs the other day because she was “baking a cake for a sick friend.” I’m pretty sure she was lying to get into my place, because don’t you usually make a sick friend soup? I told her I didn’t have any eggs, and I was vegan. I almost felt guilty for lying to her, but I didn’t want her in my space. She didn’t respond immediately, her face scrunched in confusion, but then she started giggling like a sixteen-year-old, batting her eyelashes at me and asking if I was busy and wanted to hang out. I told her I had a girlfriend and it wasn’t a good idea. The look on her face was priceless. I told her goodbye and shut the door before she could recover from the shock.
The sun is almost completely up when I get to the lake. My feet hit the ground in steady strides, and it’s chilly enough to keep me from overheating. When I get to the spot where the fishermen usually are, I pull my earbuds out and stop for a breather.
The sound of a child’s happy squeal breaks me from my thoughts, and I look over at the dock nearest to me. There’s a little girl and her dad trying to catch a little fish she must have just reeled in on her little Barbie pole. It’s flopping around all over the dock, and she’s running around squealing like it’s the best thing ever. I watch her dad scramble to catch the fish, and he has the biggest smile on his face and is laughing right along with her screams.
Once he catches the fish, he holds it up and she stops jumping around, going immediately to his side to grab hold of it the way he’s showing her. She holds it up proudly, and her dad snaps several pictures with his phone before placing it in his back pocket again.
The little girl slowly reaches down and lowers the fish into the water, waving him gently back and forth before letting him go and watching him swim away. She even waves goodbye to him.
Having a family of my own has never been in my life goals. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say watching this dad with his child, fishing and laughing and enjoying being together, is making my heart feel like it’s missing something.
I watch them for a few more minutes before I continue on my run. Is that what I want?
No. Because even after I’ve technically retired, I’m going to be traveling because there is little doubt in my mind I’m taking this coaching job. What kind of life is that for a wife and kids? Me gone so many months of the year for games. I’ve seen what traveling does to families, and I have no desire to put people I love through it.
By the time I make it back to my condo, I’m drenched in sweat. I need a shower and to figure out where the hell to take Layne for dinner tonight.
As my foot hits the steps to the condo, Sarina’s front door flies open and she steps out, making a beeline for me. Shit.
“Hey, Bryant.” Her sugary-sweet voice travels through the cool morning air.
“Hi, Sarina,” I respond, not breaking stride to my front door.
“Do you have a second?”
I really want to say no, but I know if I don’t stop and talk to her, she’ll continue to hound me over the next few days.
“What can I do for you? I’m kind of in a hurry.”
“Oh. Well, I wanted to see if you’d like to come over tonight for dinner? I know we haven’t had much time to get to know each other, but I’d like to change that,” she squeaks out, trying to sound sexy and failing miserably.
"I’m sorry, Sarina, but I’m pretty sure you heard me when I said I have a girlfriend. I can’t accept your dinner invitation.” I turn to walk away, but she grabs my arm, and I stop but don’t turn to her.
My body goes rigid as she runs her fake fingernails up my arm and across the back of my neck.
“Come on, Slam,” her nasally voice ushers out. “She doesn’t have to know. It could be our little secret.”
Taking a step away from her and pulling my arm from her touch, I turn to her so I can look into her eyes when I respond. I want her to have no doubt about how serious I am.
“Sarina. You and I will never happen. Ever.”
Her face goes from confusion to anger quickly, and I don’t want to continue this so I quickly unlock my door and step inside, shutting the door behind me before she can respond.
She really needs a hobby that doesn’t involve chasing men.
Since I got very little sleep last night and had a solid run this morning, I’m exhausted. So, after a quick shower to wash off my run, I fall onto the couch and turn on the TV. It’s still pretty early, so I have plenty of time to get ready for tonight.
A BANGING SOUND brings me out of the coma I’ve apparently fallen into. Holy shit my neck hurts. I must’ve fallen asleep sitting up because I have a kink in my neck now.
Before I even make it to the front door, I know it’s my best friend Conor because his voice carries through the door.
“Open up! I know you’re in there,” he yells.
Flinging the door open as he brings his hand forward to pound on it, I manage to turn my head in time to take the brunt of the hit to my good shoulder instead of my face.
“Jesus, dude,” I grind out. “Calm your shit!”
He laughs as he makes his way in the front door without even waiting for an invitation. If he wasn’t my best friend, I’d probably kick his ass right now for waking me up.
“What are you doing here?”
“What? I can’t come over to hang out with my bestie?” He gives me a big cheesy grin and flutters his eyelashes.
“What do you want now?” I laugh out.
“So, last night, I went out with some of the guys and met this totally hot chick, and I’m supposed to meet up with her tonight. She’s bringing her roommate. I need my wingman.”
He always sucks me into shit like this, and he knows I hate it.
“Not happening tonight, my man. I have a date.”
He snorts and rolls his eyes before responding. “Yeah, a date with Porn Hub and your right hand.”
“Fuck you!” I choke out through my laughter. “I’m serious. I have a date.”
He stares at me for what feels like longer than acceptable, his eyes narrowed like he’s trying to read my mind.
“You’re serious.” It’s not a question, but I nod.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Who’s it with? Do I know her? Does she have a friend… or better yet, a sister?” He rambles off more questions, but I’m shaking my head and tuning him out already.
“No, you don’t know her. No, she does not have a friend or a sister for you. It’s one date. No biggie.”
“No biggie,” he mumbles before turning his back to me and walking into my kitchen. “You’re full of shit. You haven’t been on a date in a billion years. What makes this girl different?”
I don’t really know how to answer. There’s something about Layne that makes me think about things I’ve never wanted before. I just met her and have spent very little time with her so far, but I still can’t help the pull I feel to her.
“I wish I knew,” I tell him honestly. “She’s down to earth and sassy and beautiful, but she doesn’t know it. She’s also got a heart of gold… and she’s a mom.” I sort of mumble out the last part, hoping he misses it because I know it’s going to open up a can of worms I’m not in the mood to listen to.
He chokes on the water he’s chugging, and I know immediately he heard me.
Shit.
“I’m sorry,” he coughs out. “Did you say she’s a mom?”
I nod and walk away from him. I glance at the clock, realizing I slept most of the day away because it’s only two hours until my date with Layne.
“I don’t have time to discuss this with you. I gotta shower and shave and shit,” I blurt out as I walk into my bedroom, closing the door behind me.
“All right, I’m leaving, but don’t think you got out of this conversation!” he yells through my door. “We’ll be revisiting this conversation tomorrow.”
I hear the front door shut and take a deep breath.
Conor is going to psychoanalyze the fact that I’ve never even come close to dating a woman with a kid. I’ve always made it completely clear I have no desire to get married or have children. He knows this.
I take another quick shower, making sure to clean all the important areas really well. I know she said she wasn’t sleeping with me, but you never know. As I step out of the shower, I hear my phone chime in the other room.
Wrapping a towel around my waist, I make my way into my bedroom and grab my phone.
Layne: So, where are you dragging me off to?
Me: I made reservations at a place called Saint, downtown. Have you been before?
Layne: Nope, but I’ve heard good things.
Me: I’ll see you in about an hour. :)
Making my way back into the bathroom to shave, I set the phone down on the vanity and lather up my face.
Layne: Why do you want to take me out? I’m not exactly your type.
Me: And what type might that be?
I can’t help the stupid-ass grin crossing my face. She’s right. She’s not the type of woman I’m usually seen with. She doesn’t dress like she’s walking the red carpet, or paint her entire face with clown makeup, or have so much product in her hair you can’t touch it or it might break.
Layne: You know what I mean. I’m a frumpy, single mom who owns a bar and works too much.
Me: You are not frumpy. You’re beautiful. See you in 45 minutes.
Layne: K
She’s nervous, and it makes me happy because it means she likes me.
I can’t believe she thinks she’s frumpy. It makes me curious to know if the woman owns a full-length mirror. There is nothing plain about her, and I wonder how her kid’s dad let her go. He must be an absolute idiot. Maybe he was a tool and she left him. That would make more sense.
I dress in dark jeans, a button-down teal shirt, and the only pair of decent shoes I own.
Here we go.