Theodora: I honestly don’t know. A few months ago, I would have said yes without a second thought, but he’s… He has layers, parts of him I haven’t seen until recently. Parts I don’t know that many people have EVER seen.
Colette: He must trust you a lot.
Theodora: Maybe. Though I’m not sure what I did to deserve that. I wasn’t always very nice to him.
Colette: Maybe he likes that you call him on his bullshit. It’s probably hard for a rock star to find a woman who’s willing to give him honest feedback.
Theodora: LOL. I’m honest, all right.
Colette: And he wasn’t always nice to you, either. You guys were stuck in one of those fuck-or-fight loops and kept choosing the less fun option. I totally get that. I’ve been there. My ex-boyfriend in college and I were mortal enemies until we got trapped in the library during an ice storm. We dated for two years after, and we’re still good friends. But I’m not sure Zack has any frame of reference for bad heat turning to good heat, you know?
Theodora: I’ll talk to him. We’ve been trying to find a day to binge-watch British Bake Off since he got home, but it seems as if there’s never enough time. But if I hurry, I might be able to swing by his place on my way to work tonight and put his mind at ease.
Colette: I think that’s a good idea. He’s a sensitive soul, that one. He seemed truly worried for you.
Theodora: He’s such a good guy. I can’t believe his ex dumped him because he wouldn’t move to Missouri. Zack is totally worth relocating for. And I’m sure Missouri is all right, but Hidden Kill Bay is adorable.
Colette: Some people are scared of the ocean. And love. And taking a chance on a happily ever after that doesn’t follow the rules.
Theodora: Fernando still holding out for a wedding before baby makes three?
Colette: He is. And I’m not sure if he’s going to come around in time. I’m giving him until Christmas to have a change of heart. Then, if he still isn’t willing to hop on the Get Colette Knocked Up train, I’ll have to make some tough decisions.
Theodora: Will you break up with him?
Colette: I don’t want to. I love him so much. I’ve been looking into freezing my eggs so I can use a surrogate down the line, in case I’m no longer able to carry a baby myself. But I’ve also been thinking about…a sperm bank.
Theodora: WHAT?! Wouldn’t Fernando’s head explode if you got pregnant by a stranger?
Colette: Oh yes. Absolutely. He’d be livid. But it’s my body and my future and my chance to know what it’s like to carry a child on the line. I can’t force Fernando to have a baby with me, but he can’t force me to do forever his way, either. I mean, I would tell him before I tried the sperm bank, of course, and I haven’t decided yet… I just want to be pregnant so badly, Theo. I’ve heard women talk about their biological clocks ticking before, but I never realized it would literally feel like carrying a bomb around in my guts. Every time I see a pregnant woman in town, or someone pushing a stroller, something inside me threatens to explode with longing. It’s stupidly heartbreaking.
Theodora: It’s not stupid, honey. You’ve got so much love to give. It’s natural to want to share that with a little pumpkin.
Colette: You have a lot of love to give, too, but you’re not stalking sperm bank profiles in your spare time.
Theodora: Well, I’m lucky enough to be in good reproductive health and have time to make that decision. And as you said, I’ve been working too hard. Having a baby right now honestly sounds like torture. LOL. I don’t sleep enough as it is.
Colette: R and R, lady. Get some! The rest of your team can handle the restaurant for a week on their own. Especially now. Tourist season won’t be in full swing for another month.
Theodora: I’ll think about it. Seriously. And I’ll talk to Zack. Thanks for the heads-up, sweetness. I appreciate you.
Colette: Ditto. What would we do without girlfriends?
Theodora: Throw ourselves into the sea when the stress of dealing with our boyfriends got to be too much?
Colette: LOL. They are frustrating. Too bad they’re so much fun, too.
Theodora: Ugh. Amen.
Chapter Twelve
Cutter
“I’m going to miss you, buddy. Get in here.” I squat low on the sidewalk outside Zack’s house, opening my arms for Thermos, who props his paws on my knees and proceeds to lick the hell out of my face.
I laugh, leaning into the assault as I scratch his neck.
Even a week ago, the thought of dog slobber all over my face would have made me gag, but now I don’t mind.
A part of me is actually into it.
I’m going fucking soft.
First, I ask to keep the dog an extra day, then I take him out for a walk to get Theo a milkshake last night, and this morning, we stopped by the pet shop on the square to buy enough new toys to keep Thermos happily chewing shit to pieces until I get back in August.
And if I’m honest, I’m not ready to drop him off just yet.
Thermos has been good company while I lounge in my room, playing guitar and writing songs about the one who got away. Megan and I are still on for happy hour drinks tomorrow, and our coffee date catch-up session was even more relaxed and fun than I thought it would be. But I can’t fight the feeling that it’s too late, that she’s moved on to a place I’ll never reach, and Theo and I are faking it for nothing.
Sometime in the past two days, I’ve started to doubt the plan, to wonder if I’m crazy for trying to resurrect something that’s been buried for so long.
And then there’s the problem with my new lyrics. I can’t seem to get the phrasing right. In the past, songs about Megan flowed like a stream rushing down a mountainside. Writing songs about the only woman I’ve ever loved was like mining for gold that was already there inside me, just waiting to be found.
But now, I can’t find the vein, no matter how hard I try.
Thermos whimpers, and his tail wags harder, which I translate as, Stop trying so hard and take me for a walk instead!
I grin and pat his wiggling rump. “I would, man, but we’ve got to get you back to your mama before she gets lonesome for her snuggle buddy.”
Giving the squirming pug one last pat, I’m about to stand and head for the porch when I hear a familiar voice.
“I’ll be fine, I promise,” Theo says, the affection in her tone making my stomach sour. “But thank you for worrying about me.”
“I always worry about you,” Zach replies in that annoyingly earnest rumble of his. “You’re family. You know that.”
“You, too. Mom and Dad told me to say hi, by the way.”
“How are they? Still enjoying the Florida sun and getting your mom ready for Wimbledon?”
Theo laughs as I scoot quietly backward, making sure I’m hidden behind the hedge before I rise to my feet.
I shouldn’t spy on them, but I can’t seem to help myself.
“Of course,” Theo says. “My dad is still coaching her, and she’s still awful, but she’s super cute bopping around the court in her puffy yellow tracksuit. And Dad started watercolor painting classes a few weeks ago. He’s already sent me a dozen self-portraits.”
Zack chuckles. “I’d like to see those.”
“I’ll bring some by. Let you fully appreciate the terrible majesty of his work.” She giggles. “But I’m happy that they finally have time for hobbies. They worked so hard when I was growing up. I can’t remember either of them doing anything just for themselves. They’d play board games with me or watch a movie sometimes on Tuesday nights when the restaurant was closed, but most of the time, Dad was busy filling out order forms and Mom was tackling laundry or writing letters to family.”
“You come by your workaholic side honestly,” Zack says. “But you know they’ll be proud of you no matter what, right? Even if you quit Claudio’s and find a gig that doesn’t work you into the ground.”
“You’re, like, the third person to say that lately,” she says with a sig
h.
Yeah, and I said it first, before Saint Zack. So take that, Mr. High and Mighty.
“You haven’t been yourself lately,” Zack says, a tender note in his voice that kicks the acid churning in my stomach up another notch. “You seem sad. And your job shouldn’t make you sad. Neither should your relationship.”
Jaw clenching, I lean forward, peeking around the hedge, about to shout a cheery hello and put an end to his stupid intervention. But then he says, “I just love you, you know. And I want you to be happy,” and my tongue turns to stone in my mouth.
He loves her.
Zack is in love with my fake girlfriend.
He just said it to her face, even though he denied it to mine just a few days ago, and that really pisses me off.
Zack and I were friends first. Zack and I have spent most of our teen and adult lives onstage together, making music and memories, forging an unshakeable bond. Even when he irritates the shit out of me, I consider Zack family.
And now he’s stabbing me in the back.
Only he isn’t, because I’m not actually with Theo. But he doesn’t know that.
The betrayal leaves my pulse throbbing in my throat as I wait to see how Theo responds. Will she confess her feelings, too? Say she loves him and she’ll end it with me as soon as she can?
If so, I don’t want to hear it.
Yes, Theo and I are just friends, but the thought of her sucking face with Zack makes me physically ill.
But, mercifully, she doesn’t lunge for his stupid freckled face or stick her tongue down his throat. She just leans against his side, resting her head on his chest as she says, “I love you, too, but seriously, there’s no need to worry. I’m just tired and need to make some tough decisions about work. Cutter and I are fine. He’s been really sweet lately, actually. He’s a good guy.”
Shame oozes through my chest like poisonous sludge as I duck back behind the hedges. Clearly, that was a confession of mutual platonic love, and I am a total fucking idiot.
And also not a good guy.
Good guys don’t lurk in the shrubbery eavesdropping and thinking shitty things about their friends.
I’m about to creep away and make the Thermos return later in the day when the dog sneezes—loudly—and I cringe. I bend down to check on him, but he’s already sneezing again, and then again, his pudgy body bouncing across the sidewalk as he suffers what looks like a painful allergy attack.
“Therm, is that you?” Zack calls out.
“It’s us,” I reply, cursing beneath my breath as I pluck Thermos off the walk and swing around the hedges with a tight smile. “He wanted to stop and smell something by the shrubs and started sneezing his head off.”
“Shit, yeah, sorry. I forgot to warn you about that.” Zack bounds down the porch steps, reaching for the dog. “He’s got a thing with rosemary—loves it, but it makes him lose it every time. I have drops inside that’ll help. Be right back.”
He hurries back to the porch and slams inside the house, calling out to his gram as he goes, leaving Theo and me alone.
She steps out of the shade into the warm afternoon sun drenching the porch steps, and the light catches her hair, igniting streaks of dark red I’ve never noticed before.
They’re beautiful, and so is she. Even in a pair of black leggings and an oversized long-sleeved baseball shirt, she’s sexy as hell. I want to pull her close and feel her curves warm and soft against me, but she’s clearly not in the mood.
Her face scrunches into a suspicious expression as she whispers, “Were you eavesdropping?”
I bite the inside of my lip, debating a moment before I confess, “Yeah. I was.”
Her brows pinch together. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t mean to, but then Zack started giving you shit about me and saying he loved you, and I wanted to know how it was going to play out. See if my bandmate was going to keep stabbing me in the back.”
“He’s just protective of me,” she says softly. “And, as you heard, everything’s fine. I even put in a good word for you.”
“Thanks.” I drag a hand through my hair.
“And I meant it. Aside from being a dirty spy, you’ve been really nice lately. So…thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for being nice. I should be nice. That’s what friends do for each other, Theo. Be nice and shit.”
“But you took it to the next level with the milkshake.” She shoots me that dimple-popped grin that slays me. “So how about you let me return the favor and buy you a beer before I have to head to work?”
I grunt, my chin jutting out. “Okay. I could go for a beer, I guess. Or a whiskey.”
“Well, you can fork the heck off with that,” she says dryly. “I offered a beer, not a whiskey, you ungrateful swine.”
I laugh, and the last of the tightness leaves my chest. I reach out an arm as Theo descends the steps, hugging her against my side as I ruffle her hair with my other hand. “I’ll take it, Squirt. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she says, turning to call over her shoulder, “We’re going to head out, Zack. Are we still on for this weekend?”
“Yep,” he calls back from inside. “British Bake Off bingeing commences at ten a.m. Sunday morning. I’ll make coffee.”
“And I’ll bring scones. See you soon,” she says, falling in beside me as I start down the driveway and turn right toward the square.
“You two have a date?” I hear a hint of jealousy in that and cover it by adding in an upbeat tone, “That should be fun.”
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. We haven’t had time to chill since you guys got back in town. Between work and Bridget’s wedding and fake dating you, I’ve been busy.”
I put my arm around her again, enjoying the feel of her against me more than I should. “Yeah, about that… I’m meeting Megan for happy hour tomorrow. Do you think I should hint that something isn’t quite right with you and me? Or is it too soon?”
“Too soon. She’s only seen us together twice. Probably best to leave sowing the seeds of discord until you get back in August.” She sighs. “I can’t believe you leave so soon.”
“Going to miss me?”
She huffs. “As if. I can’t wait to have you out of my hair. Though, I do wish we had time to get the interior decorator into the restaurant for a look-see before you leave. Just in case she has a cancellation and can get started before July.”
“I gave you the keys yesterday. Just let her in whenever she has time.”
Theo looks up at me. “But you have to approve the plans, remember? It’s in the lease. And you said you wanted to be there for her walk-through.”
I shrug. “Whatever. I trust you. You’re a classy wench. I’m sure whatever you decide to do with the space will be fine.”
She stops cold on the sidewalk, turning to face me with a furrowed brow. “But what if it’s not?”
I blink and shake my head. “I just said it would be.”
“Yes, but right now, you’re Nice Cutter, who likes me. What if you turn back into Jerk Cutter who hates my guts, and you decide to sue me for breach of contract?”
I grunt. “Um, several things, Crazy Person. One, I have never hated your guts. Two, I’m not going to change my mind. Three, I have better things to do with my time than sue you. But if it makes you feel better, we can amend the lease and initial it or whatever. Make it clear you can do whatever the hell you want, and I won’t pitch a fit about it.”
“That would make me feel better.” Her bottom lip pushes out. “And you promise you’re not going to change your mind?”
“No, that’s not something I do when it comes to business shit.”
“I don’t mean the business shit, I mean…” She trails off, her gaze falling to the sidewalk as she adds, “About us. Being friends. Weirdly, I’m starting to like being friends with you.”
I step in, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her in for a hug. “That is weird.” I kiss the top of her head. �
��But I like it. And no, I’m not going to change my mind. I’m a friend-for-life kind of guy, even with stupid Zack and his fucking annoying habit of thinking I can’t be trusted with nice things.”
Theo tilts her head back, bringing her lips so close to mine my breath catches. “So I’m a nice thing?”
“You’re a very nice thing. A nice person,” I correct, my voice husky, and the urge to kiss her is so strong I have to exert all of my limited willpower to keep my lips from hers.
I’m not supposed to kiss her like this, with no one around to see and potentially report back to Megan. It would be breaking the rules.
And once a rule is broken, who knows what might happen next…
“Cutter,” Theo whispers, her dark eyes filled with questions.
And I want to give her answers, but I have no idea what’s going on or what to make of the emotion building inside me, making me want to throw her over my shoulder, carry her back to my place, and hold her hostage in my bed for a week. Or two. Or maybe every day until I have to get on a plane.
This isn’t the deal. She isn’t the woman I’m fighting for.
But as I bend my head closer to hers, she’s the only woman on my mind.
“Theo, wait,” Zack calls out from behind us. “You forgot your keys!”
Theo breaks away from me, a little guiltily I think, and turns back to Zack with a breathy laugh. “Oh my God, thank you.”
Bang on Loosely Page 11