Car Crash

by T Gephart

  With my thanks and a very stern, “I need to get back to it,” she left to go eat her lunch alone. I hadn’t told her about my date last night or my feelings for Dallas and it felt like it was easier to avoid the conversations than lie to her.

  I wish I could say that being a hot mess with a boatload of complications wasn’t usually my thing, but it was apparent that it was.

  That was me.

  One. Big. Car Crash.

  The kind you see on the side of the road on fire hoping the driver got out of there alive.

  It was all I could hope for, that whatever disarray I got myself into, I’d eventually find my way out of.

  My cell buzzing pulled me from my thoughts, the number not one I recognized.

  “Hello?” I answered it tentatively, not knowing if it was an ex-boyfriend or a telemarketer looking to give me a hard time.

  “Kitty, it’s Justin. How are you enjoying your day?”

  Great.

  Just freaking great.

  I’d tossed my number at him last night like it was a flaming bag of shit, and he’d somehow remembered it. Not only did he seem to possess a subhuman memory, but he’d called me the next day. Who even did that?

  “Hey, Justin.” I didn’t bother answering his question, rubbing my temple and wondering how many more distractions I was going to need to deal with.

  “Wow, just a hey Justin, huh? Either your day isn’t going great or you’re not glad to hear from me. And since we both know it can’t be me,” he added with a chuckle, “it must be your day to blame.”

  I’d met men with egos before, but his was bigger than average. I laughed unable to resist testing how self-assured he was. “You know calling the next day makes you look desperate, right?”

  “I disagree. By calling you today and asking you to dinner on Friday, there is a better chance you’ll agree. I wait a few days—because some asshole deems it a reasonable time to call—and it’s already Friday. Not only do I risk you having already made plans, but I also look presumptuous. And I think we both agree that I’m interested in you, but far from desperate.”

  He was right about that. Well, about he probably wasn’t desperate part, his interest in me was likely a novelty. I didn’t doubt that he had a phone full of numbers he could call and options he could take. A single, successful, good-looking guy in New York? He probably couldn’t go a day without getting hit on. But I’d said no which meant I was a challenge.

  “Sorry, but even though you had a pretty solid theory, I already have plans for Friday night.” I didn’t but he didn’t know that. “So, unfortunately, I’m going to have to say no.”

  “Great, I prefer Saturday nights anyway, don’t have to worry about running late from work.” He didn’t miss a beat, firing back an alternative like he’d expected me to turn him down.

  “Saturday night is taken too.”

  I was curious how far he’d go, whether he’d take the hint or up the ante.

  “Well, Kitty, I generally don’t like stacking the first few dates so close together but you haven’t left me a lot of choice. Thursday. And before you lie to me about the plans you don’t have, consider why you just haven’t told me you’re not interested.”

  Wow.

  It seemed a subhuman memory wasn’t the only thing he had going for him. He was able to see right through my bullshit excuses even if I’d thought I’d been convincing.

  And what was worse, he had a point.

  All I had to do was say thanks, but no thanks and hang up. There was no gun to my head, or a hostage situation where my agreeing to dinner would save us all. He was pushy, but hadn’t handcuffed me, dragged me to a restaurant and force-fed me.

  “There is someone else,” I admitted, figuring telling a stranger who didn’t know me or Dallas was safe. “And things are complicated between us.”

  It was a relief to say it out loud, wishing there was someone I could talk to. But who was I going to tell?

  Katy, who knew him as a guy I’d hooked up with and would immediately assume he was a womanizing whore who’d never commit.

  Eve, while being a good friend to me was also marrying the best friend of the man in question. There was no way she could be objective.

  Josh—see above but multiple it by a million. There was no doubt where his loyalty would lie, and it wouldn’t be with me.

  Lani? She just wouldn’t understand. She didn’t have sex outside relationships and only AFTER an I love you had been exchanged.

  There was no one.

  Which was why I was talking to a man I barely knew about the man I was in love with.

  Did it get more screwed up than that?

  “Ahhhh, complicated relationship. Hmmm. I see.”

  There was a pause, probably deciding whether or not to be polite or just hang up the phone without the goodbye. To be honest, it really didn’t matter, my feelings wouldn’t have been hurt either way.

  “Yep, so not sure any night is really going to be a good night,” I offered, helping him along and giving him an easy out. “But thank you.”

  “Or you can ignore the guy who doesn’t appreciate you and get to know a man who will.”

  “Wow, you really are desperate.” I laughed.

  Obviously there was something wrong with him, because no one could be that hard up for a date.

  “My offer stands. Dinner, Thursday, and you can choose where we go. I’m not going to promise you I’m not going to try and make you forget him, because I’m not that honorable of a man. But I’m not going to take anything from you not given to me willingly.”

  I closed my eyes wondering, searching my heart for what I wanted to do.

  Dallas.

  Well, you can’t have him, so you need to get over it.

  I’d never really given Justin a chance, and while he was probably another bad decision, he might help me forget the one that still hurt.

  “Fine, Thursday and there’s a place in Queen’s that I like. We can meet there.”

  “Queens? Really?” I could hear the distaste in his voice, the borough I lived in spoken like a dirty word.

  I rolled my eyes at the standard response for someone like him. If you couldn’t find it on Manhattan, he probably wasn’t interested. Well if he was so hardcore on taking me to dinner, he could wear his big boy pants and get the hell out of the city.

  “Yes, Queens. You think you can handle it hot shot or do you get scared when you cross the river?”

  “No fear here, I just have to see if my shots are up to date,” he chuckled. “Send me the details, and don’t call me Thursday to cancel. I don’t care what lover boy does between now and then, he deserves to suffer.”

  “Which of course fits your agenda.”

  “Kitty, everything I do is because it fits my agenda.”

  Well, at least he was honest.

  He’d told me up front that he wasn’t honorable, and he had an agenda, but at least he wasn’t a liar. Freaking ridiculous when that criteria seemed good enough.

  “See you, Thursday. And if I do cancel, it won’t be because of him.” I hung up the phone before he had a chance to respond.

  It was the first smile I’d had all day. A small one, but a smile nonetheless, and I needed to hold onto that.

  And just when I was hoping that small smile might last, my phone buzzed again.

  Only this time, it was Dallas.

  Are.

  You.

  Fucking.

  Kidding.

  Me.

  And as much as I wanted to ignore it and give him a taste of his own medicine, I was compelled—freaking compelled—to answer it like the pathetic lovesick fool I was.

  That was why people shouldn’t fall in love. Because while I’d slept with questionable people and sometimes ended up in a hot mess, at least I still had some self-respect. Apparently something I no longer had as I swiped my finger across the screen and answered the call. “Hello.” I didn’t give him any more, trying to hold onto any dignity I had lef
t.

  “Hey, Kitty.”

  That was it.

  Surely the universe was testing, giving me what I’d wanted—granted a few hours late—but some watered down version of it.

  “Did you need something, Dallas? I’m kind of busy at work.” It took everything I had not to sound angry, to not yell or snap. But whether or not I had a right to be, I was feeling hurt.

  “Um.” He cleared his throat. “I missed your call last night because I got pretty drunk. Then I thought I was seeing Jesus in my room, but it ended up being Josh. Needless to say, I wasn’t in any condition to talk to you.”

  “You thought Josh was Jesus? How drunk were you?” My mouth gaped open, wondering what else he had done when he’d been so drunk he’d mistaken his best friend for the Messiah. He’d probably had two women, three—a whole freaking harem.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Pause. “Look, do you think we could hang out sometime?”

  Was he seriously asking me to hang out sometime?

  My eyes widened to match my gaping mouth astonished by the whole thing. I didn’t even know what he meant, hang out as in fuck? Hang out as friends? Hang out because he was worried Josh might try and convert him to religion?

  “What do you mean, Dallas? You want to go to a movie, like that kind of hang out?” Because I swear if he even suggested it was for sex, I’d have made my way to Queens, grabbed that tattoo gun and shoved it right up his ass.

  “Yeah, a movie is good. We can do that.”

  There was something off about him, his voice different. And if it hadn’t sounded exactly like him—albeit a different version of him—I might have suspected it was someone else.

  “Did something happen, Dallas?” I held my breath both needing to know and terrified to find out. “Is there something wrong?”

  He breathed out deeply, pausing before answering. “No, not wrong necessarily.” He paused again. “Fuck, I don’t know. Kitty, we were freaking tight before and I could talk to you about anything, and now I’m bumbling on the phone like a fucking idiot. Look, whatever the hell happened between us—the freaking experiment, getting to know each other, sleeping together—whatever the hell we did, I don’t want things to be like this.”

  “Yeah, well me either.” I breathed out, allowing myself to feel a tiny shred of hope. “Please tell me you didn’t avoid my call last night.”

  “Kitty, I would never avoid your call. You think we can do this in person? I have a client coming in soon and I suck at doing this shit over the phone.”

  “Doing what over the phone?” The tiny hope I’d allowed myself to feel retreated into the corner and cowered. Was he going to say that it was no longer worth it? That we’d no longer even pretend we were friends?

  “Just please trust me, okay? Come over to my house and meet me tonight or I’ll come over to yours, whichever works best.”

  “Mine,” I offered, wanting to be home in case it ended badly. At least then I could throw him out and then not have to call a cab before I could have a cry.

  It seemed to be the day for messed up criteria for helping me make decisions.

  “Great, but I’ve got a client until nine. You good with it being a little late?”

  What choice did I have? Say no, and then spend the night obsessing. It wasn’t like I was going to be able to think straight until he told me whatever he had to anyway. Nine, ten, midnight—we’d already established I’d lost my self-respect; I didn’t want to lose what was left of my mind too.

  “Yes, Dallas, that’s fine. I’ll be home.” Because that’s what pathetic people did apparently, waited at home to be dumped by a man they were never really dating in the first place.

  “Great.” He said the word again for the second time in as many minutes. “Okay, I’ll see you tonight.”

  I waited, curious to see if he was going to say goodbye or just end the call or add something else that might make sense.

  “Kitty?” he asked, not choosing any of the options.

  I could barely breathe. “Yeah?”

  “Nothing, I just wanted to make sure you were still there. Bye, I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Bye, Dallas.”

  I heard the call disconnect a second after I’d said his name.

  And to think I didn’t want to go to lunch with Lani because I was too busy to take a break. Ha! I think I’d have been less distracted if I’d just gone with her and got my damn overpriced salad.

  Nine seemed so far away.

  So many hours to sit wondering what the hell he was going to say with the only hint that he didn’t like the way we’d left things.

  Good?

  Bad?

  Oh God, why couldn’t he just tell me on the phone like a regular person?

  “Kitty.” Garrett stood in my doorway looking like it wasn’t the first time he’d said my name.

  “Sorry, I’ll be there in a minute.” A quick check of the time revealed I’d missed our scheduled catch-up by fifteen minutes, and it was unlike me to be late.

  Dallas, Justin, and all the drama that went with my personal life were going to have to wait. I had a job to do and I wasn’t going to fall in a heap.

  Dallas

  I’D GONE OVER IT IN MY HEAD a million times on the drive over to her house.

  And every single thing I’d said not only sounded lame, but not even close to what I wanted to say.

  Josh had been at my house as promised the next morning and I was positive he was going to give me a hard time. But he didn’t. He handed me a coffee so big I almost reached across and kissed the big fella, and we drove to the shop in relative silence. Not weird quiet where you know the other person is pissed, like just quiet in that neither of us needed to say anything.

  My head was killing me—from the hangover and the revelation—and the last thing I wanted to do was talk. I’d have preferred tattooing a biker’s sweaty ballsac before I’d have volunteered for conversation, so the silence was fucking welcomed by me. And Josh knew me well enough to know that if I needed something from him, I’d have asked.

  So we got to the shop, set up and ignored the elephant in the room. Mason, on the other hand, looked like he was going to piss his pants. He was so worried I was going to kill him for calling Josh, he hid in his room for two hours until I’d cornered him in there when we were both in between clients.

  And after I explained that I wasn’t mad and appreciated him looking out for me, he seemed to calm down. To be honest, not sure what would have happened if Josh hadn’t been there, but I was really glad I hadn’t needed to find out.

  It took the better part of the morning to work up the nerve to finally call Kitty. If it weren’t bad enough I’d found her message on my phone when she’d called last night and I’d been too drunk to answer. There was that other issue where I was in love with her and didn’t know how I was going to tell her.

  Or if I was going to tell her.

  Maybe there was a way I didn’t have to tell her and she’d just work it out.

  Unless the new guy had already put the moves on and then I was going to have to kill him.

  Damn it.

  Nothing worse than a shady, prison tattoo with a homemade machine. Yet, that was going to be my future for the next ten to twenty years if I’d missed my opportunity. Which was probably why I didn’t ask her outright on the phone when I’d finally grown a pair and dialed her number.

  Better to live in ignorant bliss a few more hours than to know.

  Not that she sounded happy to hear from me, but she hadn’t sounded unhappy either. At least she’d agreed to let me come over and speak to her. All I had to do was work the hell out what I was going to say.

  “You on a break?” Josh walked into my room carrying a sandwich.

  Usually before he’d buy lunch he’d ask who was hungry and what everyone wanted, and whoever had free time would go hunt and gather for the rest of us. More recently it was Mason, but I’d done it too.

  So it was odd to see Josh with an unsoli
cited lunch, especially since the man was booked more solidly than either of us and rarely left his room during work hours.

  “You’re playing lunch boy now?” I couldn’t help but smile. “How did you even know what I wanted?”

  He rolled his eyes, shutting the door behind us and tossing the paper bag my way. “You have the same thing every day. Roast beef, on white. So I figured it was a safe gamble.”

  With my mind preoccupied with other shit—all of which included Kitty—I hadn’t even realized how hungry I was. I’d skipped breakfast because I wasn’t confident it wouldn’t come back to haunt me later and then I’d just become distracted.

  “Hey, thanks for everything, dude.” I held up the bag hoping he knew I was thanking him for more than the sandwich.

  He nodded, taking a seat as I unwrapped and took a bite. “You need anything else?” And in case there was any confusion, he wasn’t talking about the sandwich either.

  While earlier I hadn’t wanted to share, the phone conversation with Kitty had made me a new brand of edgy.

  “I called Kitty. I’m going to see her tonight. After work,” I mumbled in between bites.

  He didn’t look surprised but was classy enough to keep the about fucking time I was positive he was thinking to himself. “I’m glad, Dallas. You tell her what you wanted to talk about?”

  Josh was smart, not asking out right if I’d spilled my guts yet but leading me exactly where he wanted the conversation to go.

  I swallowed, the roast beef feeling like lead as I tried to get it down my throat. “We didn’t say much to each other to be honest. I told her I wanted to hang out.”

  “Are you fucking shitting me?” Josh looked at me with disbelief. “You told her you wanted to hang out? Jesus, D, I don’t mean to be a prick, but you need to lift your game, brother.”

  “Dude, I’m not you, okay? I can’t go in there and just tell her I love her and hope for the best. I’m working out my play, making sure it doesn’t turn into a bigger mess than it already is.”

  There was a better than average chance she wasn’t going to feel the same way. After all, we’d never discussed the idea of us being together. It hadn’t even been a possibility. So it wasn’t like I could go in there, guns blazing and . . . fuck . . . what was I even supposed to do?