Five First Dates

by Erin McCarthy

  “It smells good.” He licked my spoon and gave me a smile. “Sorry.”

  “Ice cream doesn’t have a scent from three feet away.” I took my spoon back. “You’re not even remotely sorry.”

  “It’s my reward for watching this movie with you.”

  All week I’d been running a Sandra Bullock marathon for Maddox. That night we were watching While You Were Sleeping.

  “This is a great movie. You’re going to love it. Because the guy she saves in the coma isn’t the guy she ends up with.”

  Maddox threw his hands up. “What the hell? You just told me the ending! Now I don’t need or want to watch it.”

  “I didn’t tell you who she ends up with,” I protested.

  “How hard could it be to figure out? You suck at secrets. Admit it. You always sucked at secrets. Remember when your friend Jennifer made out with the janitor and you told everyone?”

  “Because he was the janitor!” I protested. “That was gross.”

  “He was eighteen and so was she. They made out at the bowling alley on a Friday night like three weeks after Jennifer’s graduation.”

  “Semantics. It was still inappropriate.” I checked to made sure Sully was content on his blanket on the floor and I paused the movie because we were missing a pivotal part.

  “Fine. I’ll give you that. Though I fault the school for hiring an eighteen-year-old. Bad move. Okay, so remember the time Steven was getting the latest Mario Kart game for Christmas and you told him and your mom didn’t talk to you for two days?”

  “That wasn’t an intentional slip. We got a phone call on the house phone and I answered it and it was Luigi telling me my game would be ready for pickup on release day, so I turned and told everyone that. I didn’t know it was a secret. I thought it was cool Luigi called us.”

  Maddox laughed. “That’s so fifteen years ago, isn’t it? Recordings from Luigi on the house phone.”

  “Yes, now be quiet and watch the movie.”

  “That you ruined,” he said.

  I stuck my tongue out at him.

  My phone was on the cushion between us and it buzzed.

  “The old guy is texting you,” Maddox said.

  It was Michael. “Stop it. He’s not old. He’s age appropriate.”

  “For my mom.”

  He had a point. “Don’t hate. He wants to have children. I don’t think it’s strange he’d want to date younger.”

  “He can adopt a baby.” Maddox picked up the remote. “So you’re going out with him again? He’s a two-timer?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “He’s not getting any younger,” he joked.

  I laughed. “Shut up. That is ageism and totally unnecessary. Forty is the new thirty. Besides, you sat there in the coffee shop and gave him the thumbs-up. What’s the issue now?”

  “I don’t have an issue. Just teasing you. Who’s next up? Unless you’re going out with Michael again.”

  “I don’t know. Isla is dragging her feet. I don’t think she’s taking this seriously.” I glanced at Michael’s text. He was clearly trying to get a response. I was flattered he wanted to see me again. “I don’t think I should see Michael again. I’m not feeling it and he seems very nice, and eager. I don’t want to lead him on.”

  “Then Isla better get on it with number four. I have my guy all picked out already.”

  Maddox had a guy picked out for me? I stared at him. “Who?”

  “I’m not telling you. Unlike you, I can keep a secret.”

  I basically hated that answer. “Why does it have to be a secret?” I nudged his leg with my knee. “Come on, tell me.”

  “Because he’s fifth. He only comes into play if three and four don’t work out. No, I’m not telling you.”

  “Who wanted that rule?” Not me.

  “You can’t be dating someone and looking ahead, wondering if the next guy is better. That’s not cool.”

  Okay, maybe he had a point. I could see that. “Fine. Does he work with you?” I asked, curious.

  Maddox gave me a look. “I work with two guys. Why would I answer that question? Then you would know it was one or the other. I’m not an amateur, you know.”

  I made a sound of exasperation. I had thought this whole experiment was going to be so amazing and at the end I would find Prince Charming. So far, not the case. But I could honestly say only Yates Caldwell had been a frog. Or more like a shark. At least it hadn’t been all horrible. But no Mr. Right either.

  Sully was starting to fuss. He was working toward a good cry and I was comfortable on the couch. I felt lazy and very into my ice cream. “Can you get the baby?” I gave Maddox a pleading smile. “Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.”

  He laughed. “Oh my God. Stop. I’ll get him. You’re lucky you’re pretty because you’re also super annoying.”

  “Ice cream?” I asked, holding my spoon out for him.

  Maddox put his mouth over the spoon and took the huge bite of ice cream. He shook his head like a dog. “Whew. Good stuff. It’s like doing a shot of sugar.”

  Then he got off the couch and scooped Sully off the floor and straight up over his head. “Come here, little man. No fussing during movie night.” He brought him to the couch and tucked him into the crook of his arm.

  I held my hands out. “Can I have my baby?”

  “No way. No work, no reward. I changed his last diaper too, so I get to sit with him.”

  “That feels like a scam. I did give birth to him.”

  He gave me a look. “You’re pulling that card? Fine. I can’t argue with that.” He passed Sully over to me.

  I took my son and looked down at his little face as he gave me a gummy smile. He made a cooing sound.

  Then he reached his arms back out for Maddox.

  “Hey!” I protested. “Traitor,” I told Sully. I eyed Maddox. “You’ve turned my baby against me.”

  “He just likes talking about football and motorcycles with me.”

  I cuddled Sully in closer to my chest so he would forget that he wanted Maddox.

  And so that I could forget I wanted Maddox.

  I wondered if having him as a nanny and living with us was a mistake I never anticipated.

  When he left I suspected it was going to break both Sully’s and my hearts.

  Because all joking aside, he was a gift. To me.

  Chapter Eleven

  “What?” I stared at the producer of Rebel Ink, Mark, a guy in his fifties with a thick stomach and glasses. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m serious. I’m sorry, but we really need to keep things interesting and draw in the viewers. You have the right look, but we need a storyline for you. Drama. If we can’t come up with something we’re going to have to replace you.”

  I was in his office at three in the morning after a long shift working and filming and I guess I wasn’t totally surprised. Nor was I pissed. I was just… annoyed. You couldn’t just be a fucking functional human being and keep your job? You had to be a dick or crazy? Apparently on reality TV you did. There was no point in arguing about it.

  “What kind of storyline?”

  “The most honest moment you’ve had was when you were talking about your mother being fifteen when she had you. We need more personal angles, like that.” Mark was sitting on his desk, instead of behind it. He had his feet crossed at the ankle, arms over his chest, as he rubbed his chin.

  “I don’t have a sob story. My mom worked hard, got married, has a nice life.”

  “Then you need to be the flirt with clients or have a love triangle with Stella and Jana.”

  That made me laugh. “With Jana and Stella? How does that work?”

  “Jana was clearly jealous of your client tonight. You could ask the client out, stir things up.”

  I wanted this job. More than I had realized. I really loved living in Brooklyn, working with other young tattoo artists. My thoughts had slowly been shifting from going back to Stroudsburg to staying. I sur
e in the hell didn’t want to get bounced now.

  If I had to leave the show now, I had to leave Savannah. I didn’t want to give either one of them up. Not one minute sooner than I had to.

  My thoughts churned, trying to find an angle. “I have an idea. Can I bring Jana in here so we can discuss it?”

  “Sure. Call her in.” Mark looked on the verge of being bored.

  I yanked the door open. “Jana! Mark needs you in here.”

  She popped up from cleaning her station. “What? Why?” She came over and hovered in the doorway. “What’s up?”

  “Come in and close the door,” Mark said.

  Jana looked at me nervously. “Am I in trouble?”

  “No, not at all,” I said. “I’m in trouble and I need your help. Mark wants me to have a storyline. My storyline is us plotting for me to get the girl.” I turned to Mark and explained the situation as quickly as I could. “Jana and I were talking outside one day and we danced around the topic but we could film the rest of the conversation like it happened then and edit it. We could film a couple of spots like, working backward.”

  “I love everything about this,” Jana said.

  “It’s not a bad idea. This only works if you get the girl though in the end.”

  “Oh, I have her,” I lied. “We’re together. What if I ask my girlfriend and her baby to be on the show?” Savannah was not my girlfriend, but I could ask her to fake it. I was faking it as her boyfriend for her friend’s upcoming engagement party. This could be the same thing.

  Only it was going to be on TV. She’d never agree to that.

  But at the same time, she was used to filming video spots for her own career, and she’d shown Sully in videos. I’d seen them. Exposure was always good for someone who used social media as a platform. Maybe I could convince her if I asked her at the right moment.

  Besides, this was a grand gesture, right? She loved that, and everything about me talking to a friend on a reality TV to plot how to win her was basically one of her movies.

  In the end, maybe it would actually score points with her.

  “You have a girlfriend?” Mark asked. “Why did I not know this?”

  “It’s brand new,” I said. Slight exaggeration but I wasn’t hurting anyone. “We live together.” That was the truth. I pulled out my phone and showed him a picture I’d taken the week before of Savannah with Sully on the floor of the apartment. Her red hair was spilling across her face and she was laughing. Sully was staring up at her like she was a goddess.

  “This isn’t your kid?”

  “No.”

  “There’s your angle, too. Kid of a single mom dates single mom. Bring her in. We’ll run with it and see how it plays.”

  I didn’t want my life or Savannah to be an “angle.” But at the same time, I didn’t want to lose the gig.

  “I’ll talk to her,” I said.

  “Go back and look at the film and shoot those spots tomorrow. Make sure you wear exactly what you were wearing in the original segment.”

  “I hate being an outfit repeater,” Jana said.

  “So change after,” I said. “Jana, you have to do this for me.”

  “Oh, I’m doing it. I never said I wasn’t. This is insane and I love everything about it.”

  I didn’t love it. But I was willing to do whatever I needed to so that I wouldn’t lose my job and Savannah before I really even had her.

  * * *

  I knew precisely when to talk to Savannah. Two days later while we were post-sex naked on the couch, panting and satisfied.

  “God, I love nap-time,” I told her. It was my favorite part of Saturdays.

  She laughed and pushed on my chest. “I can’t breathe.”

  I backed off and found the blanket on the back of the couch and pulled it over us. “I have an issue at work I want to talk to you about.”

  She turned onto her side and faced me. “What? Is everything okay?”

  I laid it all out for her. Well. Not all of it. Just the end part, where I needed her to be my girlfriend.

  “Oh, Mad… I don’t know. I mean, I can pretend to be your girlfriend at the shop or a party or something, but on film? That’s so dicey. Everyone will see it. My parents, Steven, your parents, your siblings. Is that a good idea?”

  Considering I have every intention of convincing her to make a fake relationship real, I didn’t think it was a big deal at all. But I had to be cool. “It’s reality TV. Which is never reality. Everyone knows that.”

  “That is true.”

  She reached out and stroked my face in a gesture that was so sensual I felt my cock stirring to life again. “Maybe you’ll have to persuade me in other ways.”

  “I can do that.” I shifted my hand and teased inside of her. “How’s this?”

  “It’s a start.” She half-closed her eyes and gave a sigh. “I don’t want you to ever stop touching me.”

  I didn’t want that either. Ever.

  I stroked her clit with a slow, lazy rhythm.

  “Be my fake girlfriend.”

  Savannah arched her hips to meet my finger. “I don’t know…”

  I kissed her deeply, as I added a second finger, searching out the perfect angle. She’d been wet to begin with from our sex, but now she was getting excited again, her body slick with want. “Be my fake girlfriend, Savannah. Please. Pretty fucking please.”

  “Mad…” She gripped my waist and gave a soft moan. “Oh, Mad, that feels so…”

  I found her spot, the one that always made her suck in a harsh breath before she came. “Be my fake girlfriend,” I demanded.

  She fell over the edge. “Yes, oh, God, yes.” She came with a shudder and closed eyes.

  There was nothing hotter than watching Savannah find satisfaction.

  “You said yes. I’m holding you to that.”

  Savannah opened her eyes. “That was a dirty trick.” She wetted her bottom lip with her tongue and stared at me through slumberous eyes. “You’re a very bad man.”

  “Only in appearance.” I gave her a smile. “I have a heart of fucking gold.”

  I was joking, but she actually sighed. “Actually. You do.” She trailed her fingers over my hip. “Yes, I will do it. I’ll come to the shop.”

  I kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

  “It’s the least I can do. You’re doing a lot for me.” She shifted her hand and stroked over my cock. “This alone is worth whatever you want.”

  My ego swelled about as huge as my cock. “I think I’m blushing.”

  She laughed. “No, you’re not. Now get a new condom. Please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She smacked my arm. “Ew, don’t call me ma’am. That makes me feel old.”

  “Yes, sexy ass. How’s that?” I reached behind me for the condom box, grateful for long arms. I tore a packet open.

  “We’ll work on it.” Savannah helped me roll the condom on and then she shifted and got on top.

  Now I was the one moaning. “Fuck, Savannah.”

  She moved her hips, her hands on my chest. Her hair slid over her chest, cheeks flushed with arousal. There was nothing sexier than seeing her ride my cock, taking her pleasure for herself.

  “I can’t get enough of this cock.”

  “Take as much as you want.”

  We were playing a dangerous game and I think we both knew it. We were having sex every day. Every single day. At some point we needed to talk about what the hell we were actually doing, but for friends with benefits, we’d been benefiting without interruption.

  But right then, I didn’t care. All I cared about was watching her sweet ass rise and fall onto me, her hand lifting to toss her hair back.

  When she came, I was right there with her.

  It was amazing.

  It was also a problem.

  Because I was right there with her.

  Savannah fell onto my chest with a soft laugh. “That wasn’t fake.”

  I lightly smacked her ass. “
Nope. And for the record, I’m not faking a damn thing.”

  There was so much truth to that, and part of me hoped she heard it.

  * * *

  Just drop by the tattoo shop. Maddox said that was all I needed to do. Just walk in, say hi to everyone, walk back out.

  Oh, and pretend to be his girlfriend.

  I should have hated the idea, but the truth was, I was kind of gleeful at the idea. It was a way to take the closeness he and I shared in my apartment and show it in public. Which made it really stupid. Like playing house. Which we were already doing. What was yet another layer to add to our complicated relationship?

  “This might be a bad idea,” Felicia said to me as she got comfortable on my apartment floor, rolling a ball to Sully.

  She had agreed to watch him for an hour, but she obviously thought this was all bonkers. “Why? He’s coming to the engagement party with me as my date.”

  “Which is also a bad idea. You’re blurring lines. You’re spending an extraordinary amount of time together as it is. Now you’re lying to his co-workers while filming it for television? That seems like an utter disaster.”

  “I’m in total control of it,” I lied. “I’m just saving Maddox from getting fired. This is a huge deal to him. He needs the money to open his own shop. How could I say no to him? He’s helped me so much.”

  My vagina. He’d really helped my vagina.

  “I’m not going to criticize you or tell you I think you’re insane like Isla would but I’m just saying I’m concerned about you getting hurt at the end of all of this.”

  “And I appreciate that.” I did a mirror check by the door. I was wearing a hat and a green sweater with a rust-colored jacket. Black skinny jeans, boots that should make me look taller. I wanted Maddox’s friends to think I was put together. I refused to wear yoga pants to a tattoo shop run entirely by a staff minutes out of their teen years. “I know you’re worried about me. But…” I turned and looked at her. “I can’t stop myself, Felicia. I really can’t.”

  It was painful to admit that. But it was true.

  “Oh, dear,” she said. “You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”