UnLucky in Love_Final

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by Hart, Cary


  “Thanks, Austin.” She reaches for her cell and punches out a quick text. “I’ll go, but only if you promise not to get up unless you have to use the restroom.”

  “Deal.”

  “Get some rest.” She brushes my hair back and places a kiss on my forehead.

  A kiss.

  With her lips.

  My lips.

  “I promise I won’t be too late.” She waves.

  And just like that, she’s gone.

  I could sit here and drink thoughts of her away, fight, or throw every stupid little fucking insecurity out the window and take a chance.

  Or better yet, I can do this…

  Me: SOS! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.

  Clover: Funny, Austin.

  Yeah, it kind of is. I chuckle. I always loved that stupid commercial growing up.

  Me: This is not a joke. I repeat. This is not a joke.

  All lies.

  Clover: I’m calling an ambulance.

  Shit.

  Me: No. The press.

  Clover: I’m coming. Stay put, I’m in the lobby.

  Me: Sorry…

  Fuck. I obviously didn’t think this through. Clover will be up here any minute and if I don’t figure out something soon, I’m going to be caught red-handed.

  Jumping up, I rush to make a mess of the area.

  Knock over the water.

  Push out the coffee table.

  Sprinkle some water on my face.

  Fall to the floor and hold my ankle.

  “Austin!” Clover shouts as she runs through the front door. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

  “I hate hospitals!” I shout.

  “Fine. Then how about the clinic?” She bends down and tries to help me up.

  “Yes, the clinic,” I agree

  “Oh, Austin, I’m so sorry.”

  “Clover. It hurts so bad,” I confess. The problem? I don’t mean my ankle, but my heart.

  CHAPTER 25

  AUSTIN

  I never thought I would go as far as I did last night, but it sure as hell seemed a lot better than the alternative. So, I did what any fucking crazy lunatic would do and spent six hours in the closest clinic having my perfectly healthy ankle checked out. The diagnoses: a bruised ankle.

  “Hey, man.” Owen raps on my door. “You got a minute?” Owen walks in, not giving a damn if I did or didn’t, and leans against the board.

  “By all means,” I wave my hand, “make yourself at home.

  Owen narrows his eyes. “How’s the foot?” He nods to my foot, which just so happens to be crossed over the other as I lean back in my chair, taking it all in.

  “It’s the ankle.”

  “Okaaay…” he draws out the word.

  “Good, man. It’s like new.” I stand and do a few jumping jacks.

  “Good. Good.” He tightens his lips.

  “You know—Flintstones work wonders. Especially those green ones.”

  “They don’t make green,” Owen calls me out, a slow smirk making an appearance.

  “I meant red.” I point to my eyes. “Color blind.”

  “Hmm.”

  “It’s a miracle it wasn’t broken. The doctor said I was a lucky guy to just walk away with a bruise,” I tell another lie. I wasn’t about to be charged with insurance fraud, so I denied the x-ray and I told them I was paying cash.

  “Well, glad you’re better.”

  “It was touch and go there for a minute.”

  “Sure, Austin.” Owen shakes his head. “Let me ask you a question.”

  Here we go.

  It’s time to play whose dick is bigger. According to Clover, my dick is so huge and veiny, it could be mistaken for a porn peen. I win again.

  “Is there something between you and Clover?” He crosses his arms and waits for the answer.

  I should say yes and end this right now because the bro-code is legit. No good friend would fuck with it. But something holds me back.

  “Austin? If you like her, let me know, man. Because Clover is pretty damn amazing.” Yes, she is. “So, if there isn’t anything going on, let me see where this goes.”

  “Is it hot in here?” I fan myself.

  “No.” He sighs. “Austin? Are you going to—?”

  “I think it may be that breakfast casserole Liza brought in.” I stand up and gather my things.

  “I ate it and I’m good,” Owen defends Liza’s award-winning casserole.

  “Did you eat it from the right side or left?” I know it’s not the food, but damn I need to get out of here.

  “The left.” He raises a brow.

  “That must be it.” I stop and stand in front of him. “I ate the right. That casserole was so big, I bet she had to use two things of sausage. I bet mine was undercooked.”

  “Austin…”

  “I’ve got to go.” I slap him on the shoulder and head to the door. “I’m talking explosion, and I’m not sure which end it’s going to detonate from.”

  “Austin,” he calls after me.

  “See you later, man!” I holler, not bothering to look back.

  “We need to talk about this!” Owen shouts.

  Not today.

  Owen keeps going. “It’s not going to go away.”

  It will!

  Clover and I made plans to order pizza and binge watch Netflix tonight, but since she hasn’t said anything else about it, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s still happening. So, being the extremely creative guy I am, I came up with a Plan B to assure it will. We’ll call it EBTKS—aka everything but the kitchen sink. Trust me, this will work, and it all starts with a little housework.

  Time to clean out the fridge.

  Cottage cheese.

  Moldy hamburger.

  Hot sauce.

  Expired yogurt.

  “This is going to be so good.” I give myself a fucking pat on the back.

  Opening the cabinet, I reach for a pitcher and begin to dump all the ingredients into it. “Still too thick. Hmm…think, Montgomery.” I open up all the cabinets until I find it. “Ah-ha!” I grab the vinegar from the bottom shelf and pour a little into the mixture. Fuck it. I dump the rest.

  “Phew.” This shit stinks. I give it a little stir and carry it to the bathroom where I place it next to the toilet.

  Stopping in front of the mirror, I stand there and gaze at my reflection. “Who are you?”

  What kind of pansy have I become that instead of going out and getting laid Dr. Feelgood style, I’m home alone, mixing up fake puke to trick my best friend into canceling her date? Just a little insurance policy.

  Because I’m jealous?

  No. I’m just looking out for her. Owen doesn’t know her like I do.

  Fuck it. I’ve come too far to turn back now. I’m all in, and that means I have to get rid of the evidence. Taking all the empty containers, I stuff them under the pizza box from two nights ago.

  “Intruder! Balk! Balk! Intruder!” Kramer lets me know Clover’s here. Running to the bathroom, I lock the door and get into position.

  “Austin! Are you here?” Clover’s heels click across the wooden floor.

  Lowering my voice and feigning like I’m weak, I shout out, “In the bathroom.”

  “I’m so excited!” She stands on the other side of the bathroom door. “Owen got us tickets to see some band at this new club, Spotlight.”

  “Clover,” I whine as I pick up the pitcher and slowly pour my concoction in the toilet. Now, I know this seems like an easy task, but it’s not. I need to pour enough in so it sounds like I’m vomiting, but not too fast to where it will fly up everywhere.

  “Austin? Are you okay in there?” Clover sounds worried.

  “I think I have food poisoning,” I tell another lie, but this time, I have a witness. Owen can’t question me now.

  Clover twists the handle.

  Fuck.

  “Are you dressed?” I can hear her fumbling for the key I hide above the frame.

 
; Damn it. I hurry and rinse out the pitcher and stuff it under the sink. “Yeah.” I pretend to gargle with water just as she opens the door.

  Now, when you’re really sick, the first thing you do is flush the toilet before you rinse your mouth or even brush your teeth, but not in my case. This is evidence, and I need her to see it.

  “Oh no!” She rushes over and feels my forehead right before she gags. “Flush that,” she chokes out.

  “I’m sorry.” I slowly lean down and flush it.

  “Owen said you left early, but he didn’t say anything about you being sick.” Clover pulls a washcloth out of the drawer and runs it under the water. “If I would have known, I would have come home sooner.” She begins to run the damp cloth over my face, cleaning the small chucks that managed to splatter when I was testing out the pour factor. “Can you make it to your bed?” She runs her hand up and down my back.

  I wince and nod toward the family room. “The couch.”

  “You need to get comfortable.” She tries to direct me to my bed, which would be nice if she’d join me, but I’ll settle for the couch.

  “But I don’t want to miss our movie night.” I throw in the little reminder that she apparently forgot.

  “Oh no. I completely forgot.” She crinkles her nose. “I mean, I didn’t forget, but when Owen called, I kind of forgot.” She winces. “Rain check?”

  Oh hell! She’s fucking rain checking me. Even when Jeffery was in the picture, if I called, she came running. I know that sounds like a douche thing to say, but it’s true, and it wasn’t just her, I would do the same. It’s always been us. Until now. Until Owen.

  “You really like him, don’t you?”

  There! I asked it.

  “First, let’s get you to bed.” She runs ahead of me and pulls down my covers. “Then we’ll talk.” She pats the bed. “In you go.”

  Climbing in, I let Clover tuck me in, enjoying every single minute of it. The way her fingers brush my skin as she pulls up the covers. The softness of her lips when she presses them against my skin to check for a fever. The smell of her hair when she reaches over me to fluff up the pillows in case I want to sprawl out. Clover is everything. Not only will she make someone a great wife, but she will also make a phenomenal mom.

  “Stay with me,” I plead.

  The words mean so much more than taking care of her friend who is feigning sick. I want her to choose me. Again.

  “I don’t think…I mean, I guess I can…” she teeter-totters back and forth.

  “Please, Clover. Maybe until I fall asleep.” I raise my hands and act like I’m praying. “Please.”

  “Of course, Austin.” She nods to the hall. “I’m just going to text Owen and get you something to drink.”

  “You’re the best.” I force a smile.

  Clover is the best, and I’m the fucking asshole taking advantage of it. Not those other dicks, not Nick, not Owen, but me—her best fucking friend.

  I turn on the TV and quickly mute it when I hear Clover’s phone ring.

  “I’m so sorry, Owen, but he’s sick. I know. I know. I was looking forward to it too.” She pauses while Owen probably tries his best to convince her to come. “As much as I wish it did, chicken soup doesn’t cure food poisoning.” She gets quiet for a moment. “Really? The same thing? Then maybe it’s the summer flu?” I have to give Owen props, he sure is trying hard. “I’m sorry, but Austin needs me right now. I’ll call you later.” Then, as quickly as she hangs up, she’s in my room, in my doorway, looking like someone just stole her favorite Holiday Barbie.

  Oh! That was me too. I was eleven and Barbie had boobs. Sue me.

  “Looks like I’m free for the evening.” She walks around to the other side of the bed and climbs in next to me.

  “You better not get too close. I may have the summer flu,” I accidentally repeat the words I just heard her say.

  She cringes. “You heard me?”

  “Yeah.” I roll to my side to face Clover. “You never answered me earlier.”

  “If I really like Owen?”

  I nod.

  “Well—he’s fun, our conversations are easy.” She counts off what she likes. “Honestly, he’s a lot like you. It’s probably why I enjoy being around him.” She flashes me a smile.

  “I can see that.” I nod.

  Owen is a good guy. It’s why he’s my producer, my friend, and it’s also why I’m scared of him right now. He is going after the one thing I never thought I could have.

  “He was a little disappointed I canceled but supported my decision.” She reaches over and tugs up my blankets a little more.

  Dammit, Owen.

  He’s making it harder and harder for me to hold on. Maybe he was right. Maybe I’m holding her back because I’m afraid of letting her go.

  Those words are ringing true right now. Hell, my antics over the last couple days should be proof of it.

  I’m a desperate man, holding onto a dream, but Owen is her reality.

  “You know what? I’m feeling really tired.” I feign a yawn. “Is it too late to make it to that concert?”

  “Really?” Her eyes light up. “I mean, if you’re just going to sleep.” She sits up and begins counting off her list. “I can get you a cup of soup, some crackers, a Sprite, and maybe a bowl just in case you get sick again and can’t make it to the bathroom.” She hops out of bed.

  “Honesty, I’m good.” I hold up my hand to stop her.

  “You sure?” She stands there fiddling with her phone, her fingers inching to call Owen.

  “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” I wink.

  “If all goes right, maybe I’ll do exactly everything you would do.” She winks back.

  That’s what I’m afraid of.

  CHAPTER 26

  CLOVER

  “That concert was ah-mazing!” I can’t help but bounce up and down as Thomas drives us back to Owen’s apartment. “I mean, I’m not usually into country music, but Ellie Thorne killed it.”

  “I have to agree.” Owen smiles. “I’m not usually a club guy, but Spotlight was pretty laid back.” He gives me a little side-glance. “I enjoyed it.”

  “I can’t wait to tell the girls about it.” I reach for my phone and point to the screen. “Just a quick text. I promise.”

  “Uh-huh.” He gives me one of his knowing smirks. “I know how that goes.”

  “I promise.” I hurry and tap out a group message to the girls.

  Me: One word. Spotlight.

  “I bet CJ will reply first. Mal’s been busy.” I shoot Owen a look to see if he’ll chime in.

  “Hmm.” Owen doesn’t say much of anything.

  Mal: We have to go there!

  “Oh my God. Mal responded.” I flip the phone for him to see.

  Me: We do!

  I really want to ask Mal all the questions since it seems like forever since we’ve last talked. How’s the new job? Why haven’t you answered your phone? What’s this secret you’re keeping? However, I opt for the quick sentimental text to let her know I’ve been thinking about her.

  Me: I’ve missed you.

  Mal: I’ve missed you too.

  Me: Where’s CJ?

  Mal: I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her today.

  CJ: Here, bitches! Cleaning house.

  Me: It’s the weekend.

  Mal: It’s the weekend.

  Me: Jinx.

  Mal: LOL.

  CJ: I heard Spotlight has great food.

  Mal: Me too.

  Me: Lunch this week?

  CJ: Perf.

  CJ: I got 2 go. Have fun on your date…

  CJ With OWEN! TTYL

  Me: What’s that about?

  Mal: Who knows.

  Me: Is lunch good with you?

  Mal: Yes! I can’t wait to catch up.

  Mal: Hopefully, my new boss will give me a break.

  I glare at Owen. “Do you not give Mal a lunch break?” I tease.

  “What? She gets
breaks. Is she saying she doesn’t?” He tries to reach for my phone, but I yank it back.

  “Well, we have lunch plans next week, so you”—I tap his leg—“better let her go.”

  “She’s a big girl, Clover.” He glares.

  “Okay, this convo is turning into a huge mood killer.”

  “I’m sorry.” Owen frowns.

  I smile, tapping his nose. “Well, how about you turn that frown upside down?”

  Owen belts out a laugh.

  “See! Perfect.” I give him my best cheese-worthy grin.

  “Mal will be able to go to lunch…if you get off that phone and slide over here.”

  “Deal!” I hold out my hand to shake on it, and he does.

  Me: Owen said you can go. #girltalk

  Mal: That’s for your date.

  Mal: <3 That’s for you.

  Me: Should I ask?

  Mal: current situation.

  Mal sends me a picture of her swamped behind tons of paperwork.

  Mal: Courtesy of Owen Decker.

  Me: Gasp!

  “I thought we had a deal,” Owen reminds me.

  Me: Hey, I have to go. TTYL.

  Mal: Love ya.

  I hold up my phone. “See? Done.” Then slide it into my purse and scoot over to Owen. “Now what?”

  “How about another date tweet?” Owen holds up his phone.

  “Ohhh! I’m going to post the one where I’m right by the stage.”

  Clover Kelly @UnLuckyInLove_13

  @Real_Ellie_Thorne #EPIC Best date ever! @Decker_Live #unluckyinlove #hotlinehookup #spotlight #cloven

  “Come here.” Owen holds out his arm. “Get close.” He snaps a pic of us in the limo and posts it.

  Owen Decker @Decker_LIVE

  Now for the after-party with @UnLuckyInLove_13 #cloven #spotlight #unluckyinlove #hotlinehookup

  “After-party, huh?” I nudge his shoulder. “Who’s all going to be there?” I tease.

  “Well, me and you, for starters.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Uh-huh.” He smirks. “Plus, maybe my couch.”

  “I like couches.” I nod slowly as I move in a little closer.

  “That’s good,” Owen breathes.

  “I thought so.”

 

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