The Designated +1

by Ellie Cahill

  “Let’s do this.”

  We danced, and I decided Will was right. Who gave a shit? Who cared about who I’d had a crush on in high school? It was ancient history. My boobs hadn’t even been there at the time.

  That thought made me laugh. Will tilted his head.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing,” I said. Then, knowing his capacity to harass, I added, “I think I had too much to drink.”

  He smiled.

  The first song ended, and the DJ started a familiar song. Something from the ‘90s. It was called “Kiss Me” and I’d heard it at various sporting events dozens of times. A screen that was set up in the corner came to life with a bright cartoony frame around the edges of the display. It was heart-shaped and bore the words Kiss Cam in big bubbly letters. The center of the screen was a live feed of the room, and it was moving. The wedding videographer was on the prowl. He came onto the dance floor, centering on the bride and groom, who obliged the crowd with a big kiss.

  Everyone laughed and whooped, and then the camera found the Kellys, who also kissed to even bigger cheers. The groom’s parents were next, then an older couple I assumed must be the grandparents.

  “I’ve never seen this at a wedding,” I observed. We were still on the dance floor, but barely moving. No one was. We were all transfixed by the display.

  “Me either.”

  After a few other people I recognized from the wedding party gave the cameraman what he wanted, he moved on to the regular guests. An adorable older couple kissed, then a mom kissing her toddler who she held her arms. That got a collective, “Awww,” from the crowd.

  Two couples later, the cameraman suddenly appeared from behind Will’s shoulder and aimed straight at us.

  I shook my head. “Oh, no, no.”

  Without speaking, he made a rolling motion with his free hand as if we were holding up proceedings. I was all set to wave him off, but suddenly Will was cupping my face and tilting it up toward him.

  He kissed me, hard and fast, making my lips squish against my teeth. It was a terrible kiss, and we both broke away, laughing. The crowd joined us in laughter, and the cameraman moved on.

  “What was that?” I demanded.

  “A kiss.”

  “Well then you’re a bad kisser.” I licked my teeth. “I think I might be bleeding.”

  He grinned. “That means it’s working.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  He didn’t answer, but he smiled mischievously. The DJ began to play a new song and the Kiss Cam screen went dead. I took a quick look around, wondering if anyone was watching us. We were two of the neighborhood kids and we’d just kissed on camera in front of everyone we grew up with. If this wasn’t fuel for the gossip machine, what was? But the DJ had chosen “Wagon Wheel” and that song is like catnip so everyone was busy two-stepping and singing along.

  “What’s wrong?” Will asked.

  I shook my head. “Apparently nothing.”

  “Then let’s dance.”

  So we did. And, like always, I had fun despite myself. Being around all my childhood friends was a rare experience, and we couldn’t help enjoying each other’s company. Especially when any of the songs we knew from childhood came on. I danced with everyone in about every combination I could think of. Except James. Even if he’d wanted to dance with me, I would have made an excuse. I might not want him to know he was getting to me, but there were limits.

  When the bouquet toss came around, I made a half-hearted attempt to escape, but my mom was watching me again. This time all she had to do was give me a look and I slunk back to the dance floor. Maybe it was being surrounded by al the memories of my childhood that made me regress. She hadn’t brought out that deadly mom look in ages.

  I didn’t catch it this time, thank god, and I triumphantly strutted back to my mother.

  “Happy?” I asked.

  “You were supposed to catch it,” she said with a smile to show she was teasing.

  “I’m twenty-two, mom. I’m not in a rush to get married.”

  “You’re not even in a rush to move out of my house,” she said.

  “Hey!” I protested. “I am saving up!”

  “I know.” She rubbed my upper back in a familiar, comforting way. “I’m just teasing you, darlin’.”

  “I’ll move out soon, I promise.”

  “There’s no rush.” Her soothing hand went still on my back. “I didn’t realize you and Will Brady were spending time together.”

  “Oh.” I waved off her interest. “It’s just all these weddings. We keep running into each other.”

  She nodded, but the set of her mouth told me she knew more. “I heard you were out at his project house.”

  “You did?” Of course she did. The damn neighborhood grapevine. That was the worst part of growing up like I did. It was like having a dozen moms. None of us could get away with anything without it getting back to our parents.

  “Was that a secret?” she asked.

  “No, I—I just—we were talking about the place and he asked if I wanted to see it.”

  “Okay. I’m surprised you didn’t tell me is all.”

  Damn she was good. She had me on the defensive with just a handful of words. This is why I needed to move out. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “All right. No need to get upset.” Her hand left my back completely and she grazed her thumb over my chin. “Just be careful. I know the way you can be. Especially when it comes to the Brady boys.”

  “We’re just friends,” I said sternly. “And what do you mean the way I can be?”

  “Oh, nothing, darlin’. Just remembering the way you used to moon over James Brady. Not that I blame you, he always has been a good-looking kid.”

  Why did tonight have to be the night everyone reminded me of my foolish youth? Was there a secret addendum to everyone else’s invitations with instructions to humiliate me.

  My fingers splayed into tense starfish at my sides. “Can we not talk about this?” I asked.

  “If that’s what you’d like.”

  “I’m gonna…get some water.” It didn’t matter what the excuse was. I knew she saw it for what it was, but she had the grace to let me walk away. I stalked across the ballroom to the bar, wishing for the trillionth time that I didn’t show every single emotion in the flush of my stupid freckled complexion.

  The bartender passed me a glass of ice water and I drank it angrily, swallowing fast and catching ice cubes in my teeth to crunch on. I spotted Will not too far away, chatting with Mike Randnor, and I stalked my way over.

  “You working on your house tomorrow?” I asked.

  “Like always.”

  “Good. I’m coming over.”

  19

  And Then They Attacked

  I arrived at Will’s property in the morning with another bag of breakfast and a large Coke in hand. He’d gotten there before me, but only just, and he was still getting set for the day.

  “You came,” he said, sounding surprised.

  “I told you I would.”

  “I just figured after all those martinis, you might be sleeping in.”

  “No, I had a couple of early dogs to walk this morning.”

  “You’ve already been working?” he asked.

  “Duty called.”

  “I’m impressed.” He took a long drink of his Coke. “You ready to work?”

  “Yes. Especially if we’re breaking things again.”

  He laughed. “Today we’re trying not to break things.”

  “That sounds like much less fun.”

  “You gonna walk off the job?”

  I considered. “Nah. I’ll stay.”

  Will half-smiled. “All right then. Let’s get to work.”

  Today’s main job was replacing windows. Will had a stack of new windows propped against the wall in the garage. He wasn’t replacing every window in the house, but it was certainly enough to keep us busy.

  I saw what he meant
immediately about not breaking things. Some of the windows were already cracked or broken, and shards of glass were nerve-wracking still attached to the frames. I definitely didn’t want to break them any further, and end up bleeding all over his project any more than I already had.

  Windows are definitely a team job. One person had to be outside to boost the window into the opening. That was my job. Kind of hilarious that between the two of us I was acting as the muscle, but I would have had no idea what to do on the inside. And Will helped lift from the inside anyway, so it wasn’t like it was all on me.

  All was well until we got around the side of the house and it started involving a ladder. There was a lot more in and out as Will helped me get the window a few rungs up the ladder, then he’d run inside to finish the lift. We almost had a system down. Then we got to the first double window.

  “Let’s get it around to the right spot first,” Will instructed. We were in the garage, and the break from the sun felt fantastic. Even though the stuffy air in the garage was almost enough to choke.

  “You’re the boss,” I agreed.

  We each took an end, carrying it between us. It was heavy, but manageable. Thank god he was the one walking backward, though. As we arrived at the window opening, I felt a tickling sensation on my ankle.

  I squeaked, and lurched to the left to shake my right foot.

  “Whoa!” Will protested.

  “Something’s crawling on me!” I said. Whatever it was refused to be shaken off. In fact, the crawly feelings increased. “Something’s crawling on me!” I repeated, louder.

  “Don’t drop the window!” Will cautioned.

  The first sting made me yip in pain. “I’m getting bitten!”

  “You’re fine,” he said.

  Another bite. Then another. “No I’m not!” The creepy-crawling feeling had reached my thighs. I looked down and screamed. My legs were swarming with ants. “They’re all over me!”

  “Ow! Fuck!” The window jerked in my hands as Will reacted to his first bite.

  I shrieked as the swarm crawled higher.

  “Move!” he shouted. “This way.” He began to back up, and I followed helplessly, my legs now completely on fire with bites.

  They were up my shorts, all over my back and still climbing. I screamed again. “They’re biting me!”

  “Don’t drop it!” Will said firmly. “Put it down gently.”

  Whimpering, I obeyed and we were able to get the window safely on the ground. But then I lost my damn mind. I was covered in ants. I swatted at them, swiped my hands across my chest and arms, knocking them away in handfuls. Will was doing the same.

  “Come on.” He took of running toward the front of the house and I followed, still hitting myself anywhere I felt a bite. We ran into the garage, and Will peeled off his shirt, and started using it to swipe ants off his legs. “Take your clothes off.”

  There was no time to protest. I knew he was right. Everything had to go. I unbuttoned my shorts and dropped them, kicking them out of the garage, before throwing my tank top after them. My shoes went next. Will used his wadded up shirt to wipe the bugs off my legs before he pitched it away.

  Left in only my bra and panties I finally hesitated. That was next level naked. And I didn’t know if the ants had managed to crawl under those tighter-fitting garments. They were definitely still crawling on parts of me though. I couldn’t tell if it was my imagination or not, but I would have sworn they were crawling on my scalp.

  “I still feel them,” I moaned.

  “We need soap and water. Come on.” Will grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the house. We were barefoot in a construction site, which should have been the worst thing happening at most times, but it felt like nothing compared to the intense burning of the bites on my legs. We ran to the guest bathroom, which was still untouched.

  Will turned on the shower and pulled me inside.

  The water was freezing and I squealed. It wasn’t just the cold, it was the shocking contrast of the cold compared to the fire of the ant stings. But the relief came an instant later and I didn’t want to get out.

  It was just a shower stall, and we barely fit in there together, but we both needed the water. I didn’t care that I was in my underwear, or that it was getting soaked through. I didn’t care that there was nowhere to stand where part of me wasn’t touching Will.

  We took turns soaking our heads under the spray. It was horrifying to watch the ants get knocked loose from my hair and swirl toward the drain.

  “Are they still on me?” I asked, turning my back to Will and lifting my hair off my neck.

  “A few.” He pinched one off my shoulder and then my neck.

  “I still feel like they’re all over me!” I scrubbed my hands over my face and shuddered.

  The water was warming now; the shock fading.

  “Soap.” Will grabbed a bar of soap from a caddy hanging around the shower head. There was a bottle of shampoo in it, too. He must have been using this bathroom when he stayed here. That made more sense than the RV, I supposed. At least until he demo-ed the room.

  Suddenly he winced. “Ow!” He turned, presenting me with his back where I spotted an ant and pinched it off.

  “Fucker,” I muttered, flicking the dead thing toward the drain.

  “Can you get it with soap?” he asked, holding the bar over his shoulder for me to take.

  “Got it.” I lathered up my hands and began to rub suds over his entire back.

  At that moment, the strangeness of the situation really began to sink in. I was in the shower, in my underwear, with Will Brady, and I was washing him.

  Awkward.

  I finished quickly and handed the soap back to him. Using what was left on my hands I washed my face and neck so hard I felt like I could take a layer of skin off. We traded the bar back and forth, bumping into each other as we attempted to soap up all of the bites. My ankles had gotten the worst of it. They were tingling and burning all over, although the soap and water was helping. Conversation was minimal and focused.

  “Fire ants?” I asked.

  “Probably,” he said. “Are you allergic?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Good.”

  I washed my hair twice before I was satisfied there were no creepy crawlies hiding in there.

  Finally we were finished and simply stood in the spray, both breathing heavily with the let-down of adrenaline.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Relatively speaking.” I swiped water out of my eyes. “I have to say this is the farthest anyone’s ever gone to see me in my underwear.”

  “Oh, are you in your underwear? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Bullshit.” It was my turn to call him out.

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Trust me, I’m doing both of us a favor by not noticing.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. “What does that mean?”

  “You don’t think this is awkward enough?”

  “More awkward than you telling everyone you work with that we slept together?” I countered.

  “Way more awkward.”

  “More awkward than discovering that you are a terrible kisser?”

  “I am not a terrible kisser.”

  “You almost broke my tooth.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You’re hazardous to my health. Cut my forehead open, break my tooth, attack me with fire ants…”

  “You’re so full of shit.” He was laughing, even as he tried to sound indignant. “None of that was my fault!”

  “The kiss was.”

  “I did that on purpose.”

  “You wanted to break my face?”

  “Would you have preferred I kiss you for real in front of everyone? Let them all talk about that for the rest of the night?”

  It was a fair point. His joke of a kiss had only earned a few chuckles instead of throwing gasoline on the glowing embers of neighborhood gossip. “No.”

  “Thank you. You agree I’m
not a bad kisser, then?”

  “No.” I laughed. “For all I know, you could still suck.”

  Will’s hazel eyes fixed on me with an intensity I’d never seen in him. “Don’t tease, HB. Not unless you’re willing to see this through.”

  My heart hammered in my chest. And a sudden firework of heat bloomed in my belly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You sound like you want me to kiss the ever-loving hell out of you just to prove you wrong.”

  The tingling in my ant-bitten skin was now indistinguishable from the rest of my body. I swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

  “That’s what it sounds like.”

  “And if I said no?”

  He shrugged. “Then I’d leave you be. You can live the rest of your life not knowing what it’s like to kiss me for real.”

  “What if I said yes?”

  “Are you saying yes?”

  What in god’s name was I doing right now? Was this some unknown side effect of fire ant venom? Was I really considering this?

  The heat in my core said that yes, it was most definitely something I was considering. More than considering. Wanting. I leaned against the shower wall, trying to give myself space to think.

  What would come of this? What if it was still terrible? What if it wasn’t?

  My gaze slipped down to his mouth.

  “Hadley?” His lips and tongue shaped my name.

  This was a bad idea. Capital B, capital I, Bad Idea. “Yes.”

  Will braced his hands on the wall around my head and leaned in so close my eyes blurred. “Say it again.”

  “Yes.”

  Our lips touched, softly. Nothing like the lip mashing of the kiss cam. This was more like a whisper, and then it deepened. His hand slid down the wall and cupped the back of my head, tilting my head up. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. What this just a kiss? Was I only supposed to stand here and passively receive?

  The gentle sweetness of Will’s lips stayed, even as he teased mine apart. He was right, he wasn’t a bad kisser at all.

  I lifted one hand to his shoulder and rose onto my toes, wanting to get closer. His tongue brushed mine, then retreated but I pursued. I felt the corner of his lips tighten into a smile, but then it was gone in favor of exploring my mouth. The carefully maintained not-beard-but-not-stubble around his lips scratched my skin, but it was soft and ticklish, rather than irritating.