“Oh my God, seriously?” Charlotte says so I don’t have to. “That’s what you think is wrong with him? This isn’t the 18th century, ya know. A girl can get to the guy on her own.”
“Exactly. I think you’re reaching here,” I say. And why is he reaching? Why is he trying to find a negative? Things are going well with Ryan. I’m a bearded man’s muse and I won’t let Austin ruin it just because he doesn’t want axe-throwing to be a regular feature for our friend group.
“Chivalry isn’t dead,” he says. “I’m just leery that you’re always going to him. Is he a hermit?”
“No, he’s not a hermit.” Although, he’d make a great one, all reclusive and such, with his beard in my dream rugged tiny-cabin in the woods. Swoon. “I don’t see why this is a big deal.”
“Maybe you need a break from dating,” he says. “I don’t know about this site you’re using to pick up guys.”
I spent years and years on a break from dating. At the time, I didn’t mind being alone. Now, I do. I mind it very much.
“I’m not picking up guys. You’re being a tad judgmental. It’s not like I can go to the grocery store and pick out the perfect guy for me. I have to date to find someone. Before Lucy, you had a ton of girlfriends.” Insert chest ache. “Plus, Ryan happened organically. You were there and saw how we were thrown together. And we have so much in common. For example, history. What are the chances of that? And he’s an artist. It must be fate.”
“Fate?” Austin scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Next you’re going to say he’s your soulmate.”
“Actually, maybe a twin flame.”
“What’s that?” Charlotte asks.
“It’s the other half of your soul. It’s a unique connection, different than a soulmate. They say everyone has a soulmate but not everyone has a twin flame. Maybe he’s mine.”
Austin remains silent, chopping more basil than we need with ferocious precision.
“Just make sure your future in-laws don’t break the special bond between you,” Charlotte chimes in. “It’s never as strong as you think. Blazing twin flames one moment. Extinguished the next.”
“I wish I could fix your doldrums. Want me to call her and pretend I’m the Hilton and say we’re booked?”
She slumps in her chair. “I already tried that. She knows the owner. Things got weird.”
Austin moves to the fridge and grabs a block of Parmesan cheese. “Come on, Charlotte. Cut them some slack. You can’t just get married and think they won’t be involved in everything.”
“I do think that,” she argues.
“What about grandkids?” he asks. “Think they won’t force you into letting them advise you on decision making?”
“Does she even want kids?” I ask. “Charlotte, do you want kids?”
“Who doesn’t want kids?” Charlotte says. “Like, later, obviously.”
“I don’t know if I want kids,” Austin throws out. My wine turns to grape jelly in my throat and I nearly choke.
“Since when?” I ask. “You’ve never mentioned this.”
He shrugs, gathering a mound of fresh grated cheese to sprinkle on the loaf of garlic bread. “They’re just not in the plan. I don’t know if I want to be responsible for tiny humans and their fragile egos. Someday, they’ll grow up, get engaged to someone who will complain I’m ruining their life by not agreeing to their wedding venue.” He gives Charlotte a pointed look.
“Does your girlfriend know this?” I ask.
“She knows. She doesn’t want them either.”
Huh. Why does it bother me they’ve had the discussion about kids? Are they moving into engagement territory?
“I think that I—”
I hold up a hand to cut off Charlotte. “Wait. We need to explore this with Austin.”
“Um... it was supposed to be about me,” she says.
“It is about you,” I say. “But we can take a moment to find out more about Austin’s reasoning?”
Charlotte’s eyes narrow to slits. “Chloe, we need to porch.” She rises with a screech of her chair against the floor, and power walks out of the kitchen.
“Uh-oh,” Austin whispers. “Good luck.”
I stand. “Thanks. If I don’t make it back alive, just know your fettuccine smells divine.”
Porch is old-school code for “I need a side-bar with you.” We’ve only porched on one other occasion this year and that was when Charlotte almost revealed my secret crush to Austin.
She stomps to the door and swings it open with a flourish. I follow her into the chilly air.
Outside, Charlotte hisses, “You are very obviously not over Austin and… I’m sorry, Chloe, but this is bullshit. A big steaming pile of it.”
“Whoa,” I say, “I know you’re stressed but where did this come from?”
“I am stressed, yes. But you shouldn’t be living here and acting like this. What does it matter if he wants children? If he has them, they’ll be with Lucy.”
My head rears back, as if she slapped me. I know I shouldn’t care, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear it so I go on the defense, “You shouldn’t be acting like this over a simple question. I’m fine. Don’t be so high and mighty.”
“High and mighty? I’m serious. I kept my mouth shut when you moved in…”
“Oh, you kept your mouth shut? First of all, you can’t even keep your mouth shut around your fiancé’s parents, so I highly doubt this has been an ongoing concern for you while you’re wedding planning. Second of all—”
Things spiral out of control. “Wait, wait,” she says. “You want to talk about my wedding now? Do you have time between all your boyfriends? You are never around anymore.”
I gasp. “That’s not true. We’ve talked about your wedding plenty. I’m the one who made you a wedding Pinterest board. Which you have not been pinning to. Did you even look at the Twenty-Two Winter Wonderland Wedding Place Setting Ideas That Will Wow Your Guests? No, you didn’t. Aaand I sent you all those articles about how to mind control someone so you could get her to agree to the chalet. You can’t say I have neglected you or your wedding. Being engaged is—”
She cuts me off, “You have no idea what it’s like to be engaged. Or the responsibilities that come with it. No idea.”
“Nope. Cause I’m just your sad bridesmaid friend, right? Can’t find a husband, so I’m just slutting around while you live vicariously?”
She crosses her arms. “You said it, not me. And there’s nothing vicarious about this with Austin. You’re going to last a few weeks with Ryan, just like you only last a few weeks with all of them, because none of them are going to be Austin. You need an enlightening.”
I gasp again. “Whatever. Nothing’s happening with Austin. And I’m mad at you.”
“Not as mad as me.” She brushes past and back inside. “I’m going to leave.”
“Why?” Austin asks.
My phone pings and I snatch it up from the table to see a text from Ryan inviting me over to his place.
“No. You stay. I’ll go.”
How ironic. She’s asking me to change my dream and didn’t even realize it. Not that I’m still dreaming about it. But if I were, it’s very hypocritical. And I would know hypocrisy, because I’m a giant hypocrite. At least I own my flaws.
I snatch my purse from the coffee table and flee the truth about Austin.
Six
If you ever engage in a monumental argument with your best friend and need a sounding board, I highly recommend Uber.
“So, after all that, turns out my date wasn’t a virgin,” I tell my Uber driver, who is kind enough to let me unload my troubles. I’m sure he’s had worse passengers than me. Maybe not, but we’ll pretend.
“No shit?” Roger says. “Go figure. I totally thought he was. Dodged a bullet, girl.”
“Yeah. Things went well on our dates, and I’m seeing him again. We have a lot in common. It’s almost like dating myself.”
He chuckles. “That’s great. I might ge
t bored with me. Hell, my wife gets bored with me. Hope you like yourself.”
I’m not sure I do, but that’s for another ride. “Sad to say, now I have another problem.”
“You’re too young to have so many problems. Worry ages you, you know.”
Great. Add premature aging to the list. I make a mental note to purchase wrinkle cream and get ahead of the curve since at this rate I’ll be a prune by thirty.
“Trouble seems to find me,” I say and sigh.
“You have a really interesting life,” he says. “What’s going on?”
“So, my guy roommate is a good friend whom I once crushed upon.” Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. “Don’t judge. I know what you’re thinking. Contrary to popular opinion, I am moving on. He has a beautiful girlfriend with incredible hair. She’s super nice and excels at everything I fail at and she has her life in order…and I’m dating.”
“Ah,” he says. “Your hair is nice too. Us men really get the short end of the stick with going bald, but I’ve got this new color that you paint on and you can’t even tell my hairline is receding.”
You really can’t. “That’s awesome. It looks great.”
“Thanks. So, what happened?”
“Anyway, said roommate was making dinner for me and my best friend tonight—he’s a phenomenal chef—and dropped the bombshell that he doesn’t want children.”
“Oh. Well, they are time sucks. Can’t blame him on that one. Gimme. Gimme. Take me here. Take me there,” he grumbles. “It never ends. They’re a lifetime investment. Some pay off. Some don’t. But there are no refunds.”
“Well, my best friend, who is getting married and freaking out over her future in-laws’ interference in her wedding, thinks I’m not over him and shouldn’t be living with him. We argued and now we’re mad at each other.”
“And what do you think about living with him?”
“I think it’s fine.”
“Hm. I had a crush like that once. I still see her around from time to time.” He shakes his head. “She really messed up not picking me.”
“Who did she pick?”
“Some hotshot exec with Botox in his face. Thought only women got that, but nope. He can’t even smile. Looks angry all the time. Why would you want someone who can’t smile?”
“I wouldn’t,” I say. “She did mess up.”
“Yep,” he chirps. “But people want what they want, whether or not we like it. It’s hard to accept someone likes someone else more than you, huh?”
I nod, afraid I might cry. Honestly, I can’t say Austin messed up. Lucy is terrific. I’d pick her too.
He pulls up to Ryan’s building and parks by the entrance. “Just my two cents. Maybe you should look for another place to live. I dabble in real estate and can hook you up.”
“Thanks, Roger,” I say to the back of his shaggy cinnamon head. “You’ve been a superb listener.”
“No problem,” he says. “Sorry you had a fight with your friend. I’ve had lots of fights with my best friend. You just gotta give it some time. Let it cool off. And um, don’t forget to rate me.”
“Will do. You’re beyond five stars.” I open the door and slide out. Roger drives off with a wave and I stand transfixed until his red taillights disappear into the night.
This really sucks. Charlotte and I have never had a fight on this level. Just when I think things can’t be any suckier, they are.
In the lobby, on the way to the elevator, a deep voice calls out, “Chloe?”
Horror of horrors, I turn to see Finn striding in my direction. Before I can escape, he’s in front of me, wearing a crooked grin.
“Hey. Thought that was you.” Blue eyes sweep over my sweater and jeans. “Looks like you kept up with the workouts. That’s outstanding you’re staying SuperFit.”
“Hi,” I reply. “How’s life?”
“Excellent. I just dropped off my fiancée.”
My brows shoot up to my hairline. “Your fiancée?”
“Yeah. She won the bowling tournament.”
“Well, congratulations to you...all.” I wonder how much she resembles his stepmother.
On that note, I’d like to exit, but he keeps talking, “I gotta say, I’m relieved it’s settled. I feel like an adult now.” He drives my inadequacies in further, “It’s nice having your future laid out. Feels like a boulder lifted from my shoulders.”
“I bet.” I’d really like boulder-free shoulders.
“Lucy said you were dating some biker. How’s that going?”
I fidget with the strap on my purse, feeling like a serial dater. “Oh, that was ages ago. I’m…seeing someone else.”
“Listen, I hope you find someone who lasts more than a few months. It may seem like you’re going to keep going from guy to guy and never get that elusive ring, but just know, if you don’t, it’s okay. I mean that sincerely.”
“Thanks? I truly hope your marriage is...a strike.”
He beams. “Can’t come soon enough. I’ll see you later.”
He leaves and I push the elevator button harder than it deserves. What is wrong with me that Finn is engaged and I can’t find a lasting relationship?
Not even Ryan’s beard can dispel my funk.
“I didn’t think you’d ever get here,” he says as I enter his apartment.
Before I can speak, he slides hasty fingers into my hair, fisting the strands, and captures my lips. My butterflies are too depressed to take flight as he wields his tongue like a weapon of seduction. Our bodies meld together, but a magical kiss can’t dispel my argument with Charlotte. The hungry lips devouring mine would make most women forget everything, but not me.
Only I would go on a whole internal monologue.
Is three boyfriends in the span of nine-ish months really so shocking? Double standards regarding sex are so offensive. If I were a man, no one would think twice about my dating. If I had nine boyfriends in three months, it would be lauded and labeled “bad boy.” Prior to this year, I’d had two sexual partners in my entire life, so I was basically a Ryan-virgin.
I’d continue, because I have a lot to say, but—
Ryan breaks the kiss and palms my cheeks.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just…got into a fight with Charlotte.”
“Bummer.”
He doesn’t ask what it’s about and I guess that’s okay? I can’t tell him it’s about Austin, anyway. “You know, I don’t even want to think about it. I want to be here with you. I promise I’ll be more into it the next time you kiss me.”
He arches a brow. “Who says I’m going to?”
Again, “Uh...”
“Just kidding. I’ll definitely be kissing you again. I’ll be your escape.” He winks. “First, I need to finish this last-minute design change for a client.” He crosses over to his desk and sits. “Sorry, it came in after you texted me back. It will be really quick. Make yourself comfy. I’ve got edibles on the bookshelf, if you want a real escape.”
I drop my purse on his couch. “Oh, I’m not that kind of potter.”
He spins around in his chair. “Ha, ha. Wait, what?”
“I’ve never done weed before.”
“But…you live in Colorado?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re an artist.”
“Yes.”
“Far be it from me to reinforce stereotypes, but you’re really leaning out, aren’t you?”
“I don’t like boxes,” I say with a smile.
“Well, no pressure. If you wanna try, feel free.”
He taps on his laptop, and I think for a moment while he putters. This is my season. And maybe getting high will take the edge off the upset (and frankly, the guilt) about my fight with Charlotte.
I amble over to the bookshelf and pick up a little bag, label immaculately designed, reading Care Bears. Might as well try it?
The first thing I notice when I remove one is that they aren’t actually bear-shaped. That’s stupid. I pop
a yellow one in my mouth. Just like normal gummy bears, the lemon ones are mediocre. Well, that’s disappointing. Red is my favorite color, so I try that next. Ooh, the cherry ones are delicious. I have another and peruse the books on Ryan’s shelves trying to get a deeper feel for his personality. His collection ranges from art to sci-fi to comic books. Lots of diversity in his reading. And self-help books. That’s good, I think.
Sitting beside Who Moved My Cheese? An A-Mazing Way to Deal With Change in Your Work and Life is the drawing of alternate me. While I wait for the edibles to take effect, the most wondrous thing happens. The drawing speaks to me. But doesn’t have pleasant things to say.
“You’re not a good friend.”
“Yes, I am,” I mumble.
“What’s that?” Ryan says, glancing over his shoulder.
“Nothing,” I say.
“It’s not nothing,” sketched-me says. “You know, a wedding is a big deal. She’s stressed. And she’s been there for you while you keep finding Mr. Wrong. And not to mention, you are still hung up on a guy that’s never going to happen.”
“You’re so judgmental,” I whisper. “I’ll have you know, I left that crush behind long ago.”
“Mm-hmm. You keep saying that.”
“I’m very into Ryan.”
“Ha. You’re into his beard.”
“Don’t ha me. You know nothing.”
“Who are you talking to?” Ryan asks.
I point to his art. “Your drawing is insulting me.”
“What?” He laughs and walks over in slow motion. “Good lord, how many of those have you eaten?”
“I dunno. How many hits get a person high?”
“That’s not…” He picks up the bag. “Oh, dear. It might take you a while to come down.” He explains I only needed a half not-bear, but he can’t stop laughing. It echoes throughout the room and pulsates in my ears.
“Then why did they make them taste so good? It’s literally candy. Am I going to die? I’m not ready to die. Will you call Granny Mae?” I fist his T-shirt. “You can’t tell her what I did. Lie to her! Tell her I died saving orphans from a fire! Oh God, you’re going to have to set a fire to throw my body in…”
He places his hands on my shoulders. “I’m not going to burn you. Take a deep breath and count to ten.”
Fall Hard (Dating Season Book 3) Page 4