Last Call (Bad Habits Book 3)

by Staci Hart

  Lily sat in West’s lap in the armchair, long legs slung over the side, arms around his neck. They seemed to just be talking — talking and smiling and looking absolutely perfect. Which they were. We all knew they would be perfect together, and long before they realized it.

  My anger abated at the sight of them together. Not entirely, but enough that I felt more wry and less stabby.

  “Hey, asshole,” I said, mostly to Lily, as I closed the door firmly. “You ready to go? Because I’m pretty sure you owe me a drink or nine.”

  Her cheeks flushed as she looked up at me. “I mean, if that’ll make it better, I’ll buy you a bottle.” She turned her attention back to West just long enough for them to share a simple kiss and a lingering look before she stood.

  “You mad at us, Rosie?” West said with that easy smile of his.

  I flipped him off, and he chuckled.

  “Aw, you know we mean well.”

  “Which is exactly why I only shot you the bird instead of shooting you in the face.”

  He snickered.

  Lily sighed grabbed her bag. “Come look for me if I haven’t texted in an hour. There’s no guarantee she’s not still packing heat.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I hate you.”

  “Lies.” She waved at West, and we stepped out into the hallway. “So,” she started, overly cheery, “how mad are you? On a scale of one to homicide?”

  I shot her a look. “Somewhere between maiming and dismemberment.”

  “Well, then things could be worse,” she joked, but her smile slipped. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him sleeping there.”

  “I mean, what the fuck, Lil?”

  “Well, we thought you’d—”

  “Yeah, yeah. You thought I’d freak out, right? Well, here we are, and I’ll tell you this freakout is way worse than the freakout I’d have had if you’d asked me.”

  “But you would have said no, and he needed rest, you know?”

  “Well, maybe you could stop banging like monkeys all night long so he could sleep.”

  She put her hands up as we walked down the stairs. “Seriously, we aren’t that loud. And anyway, why does it matter if he sleeps there?”

  “Because it does. I mean, what was your endgame? Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out?”

  She wrinkled her nose and sniffed. “I dunno. He pulled it off for a month.”

  I made a noncommittal noise.

  “I kind of hoped you’d be okay with it.”

  “I mean, Jesus. You should have just gotten me drunk and convinced me to do it. At least then I wouldn’t have tried to pistol-whip him with your vibrator.”

  She busted out laughing, and I couldn’t help it — I laughed too.

  “Fuck, it really was ridiculous. His eyes looked like freaking pool balls.” I peeled my eyelids open and stuck my face in Lily’s.

  She was still laughing as she pulled open the building door. “I would have paid money to see that.”

  “I kind of wish I’d hit him. Give him a big ol’ mushroom stamp right on the forehead. Bam.” I slapped my hands together.

  Lily breathed out, trying not to giggle anymore. “God. I really am sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever. It’s done now, and you were right about my reaction.”

  “What’d you end up telling him?”

  “What else could I say? I told him he could stay and gave him some ground rules. Which he actually immediately broke by asking me if he could stay and watch TV,” I realized.

  “Well, it’s not like that’s a new thing.”

  “I know, but I don’t want to hang out with him, dude. I need him away from me.”

  Lily nodded and said “Right,” like she didn’t mean it.

  I shot her a look. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Her voice was a little high. “I mean, keeping away from him hasn’t really done you any favors, but you know what’s best for you.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Ugh, don’t get all passive-aggressive on me. Just say what you mean.”

  She shrugged. “I’m just saying maybe you’ll get over it if you’re around each other, that’s all.”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, right. Just get over it. Sure.”

  “Anyway, new topic, since this one is obviously sore and worn out. How was jury duty?”

  “About as fun as I’d imagine stapling my lips together would be,” I said as we walked toward Habits. “At least I didn’t get picked.”

  She nodded. “Bright sides. I like it.”

  “What have you guys been doing all day?”

  “Nothing. It’s been amazing. Is it weird that I never really got why people took vacations?”

  I gave her a flat look. “Yes.”

  She chuckled. “I mean, theoretically, I get it, but all I’ve ever known is dance, twenty-four-seven, ever since I can remember. Plus, I’ve just never had anyone to really go with, to share it with.”

  I flagged a hand. “Uh, hello? Chopped liver, nice to meet you.”

  She laughed again. “Right, because you always go on vacation.”

  I shrugged. “I’m just saying. I would have gone with you.”

  “Well, thank you for that. Good to know.”

  I laughed and bumped her arm.

  “Anyway, it’s given West and me a ton of time to hang out.”

  I smiled at her. “God, you’re such a mush.”

  “I know,” she beamed. “It’s so weird. Like, he was my best friend—”

  I gave her another look.

  “—Besides you—”

  “Thank you.”

  “—But it’s like I didn’t really know him. Not like I do now.”

  I snorted. “Oh, like on the biblical level?”

  She flushed. “I mean that, obviously, but just … I don’t know. All of him. Everything is different and the same, like I unlocked something in him and he did in me. Does that make sense?”

  My smile this time was knowing, though I knew it held a hint of sadness. “It does.”

  “But, I mean, the biblical level is pretty rad in itself. Definitely not the worst thing ever.”

  “Ha. I’m sure, especially given the fact that you get all porno every night. Tricky can’t even handle your super loud fuckery anymore.”

  She made a stinky face. “That’s awkward.”

  My eyebrows climbed. “Well, maybe if you two brought it down a notch, I wouldn’t have my ex begging me to sleep in your old room.”

  She looked down her nose at me dramatically. “Look, we have needs, and those needs must be fulfilled. I can’t say I’m sorry for that. It really does suck for Tricky, but I don’t care if he sleeps in my bed as long as you’re okay with it. I’m not using it.”

  I gave her a hard what-the-fuck stare.

  “What?” she asked like I was the crazy one. “I mean, sure, he’s your ex, but it’s not like you guys aren’t still friends.”

  “Can we put that in air quotes? Because I don’t really feel like we’re legit friends. I feel like ‘we’re friends who dated and ruined everything but are still trying to be friends, except it’s bullshit.’”

  “That’s a really long title. I’m not calling you that.”

  My pause was heavy, my words quiet. “It’s a big deal, and you know it.”

  She nodded. “I know. I just wish it wasn’t.” We walked in silence for a moment. “Honestly, I think it’ll be good for you two. I think you just need to push past the awkward I-miss-your-junk phase and get to the we-cool phase.”

  I thought about it for a beat. “Maybe you’re right.”

  She looked pleased with herself. “Of course I’m right. I’m the queen of right.”

  I smiled slyly and stood a little taller. “I know just how to get out of the I-miss-your-junk phase.”

  “Oh?” Her brow raised.

  “I just need to find myself some new junk to worship.”

  She cackled. “I just pictured you doing hoodoo over a dick shrine.�
�

  “I told you to stop going through my things. You’re so nosey.”

  The cackle turned into a sort of sheepy noise.

  I snorted. “Oh, my God. You sound like you belong in a barn.”

  She pushed me in the arm. “Takes one to know one. Your donkey laugh takes the cake.”

  I pushed her back. “I don’t have a donkey laugh.”

  “Do too.” She pointed at me. “I’m getting you whiskey drunk and recording it so I can blackmail you with it. Anyway, I think it’s adorable.” She pinched my cheek. “So, do I hear this right? You’re going to start dating?”

  I shrugged. “Why not? Maybe that’ll help me un-jam.”

  She shimmied her shoulders as we approached the bar. “Oh, I’m sure you can find someone to help you un-jam.”

  “Man, you’re on a roll.” I pulled open the door for her.

  “Well, you keep setting me up,’ she said with a shrug. “So, what, are you going to get on Tinder and just look for a sausage stack?”

  “When you say it like that, how could I not?” Nothing about the statement was enthusiastic.

  She rolled her eyes as we walked through the bar. “I don’t know, Rose. I skipped the whole dating thing. I just know it’s impossible to meet people in New York, so online dating makes sense, even if it’s like the Wild West.”

  I waved at Shelby as we passed, pointing to the back tables. “I’m a bartender, so it’s not like I don’t get hit on, but it’s too close to home or something. I don’t want someone to know where I work before our first date, you know? Like, what if he’s a creep? Then he can stalk me at work where I can’t get away from him.”

  “Fair enough. All right, so no one who goes to Habits. So … Tinder?” she asked hopefully.

  I laughed as we sat in a high booth in the back. “Maybe. OKCupid? Ugh, I don’t know. The whole thing makes me twitchy.”

  Her face lit up and she shook my forearm. “Download the app and let’s troll for boys.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

  “Stop being a baby. It’s not like you’re agreeing to the sanctity of holy matrimony. If nothing else, just get some play.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Some play? What are you, a dude from the 90s?”

  She ignored me. “Just set up a profile so we can look and see. Look, you don’t even have to answer any of them.”

  “Obviously. But by even having the profile, I’m basically asking for dick pics and creepy propositions.”

  “Welcome to dating. Come on. Just download the app and let’s window shop.”

  I sighed. “I need a drink for this.”

  She grinned and slipped out of the booth. “Done. That app better be on your phone by the time I get back, or I’m holding your whiskey hostage.”

  “Bossy.”

  “Wuss.”

  I had a stanky look on my face as I waited for the app to download, and I’m pretty sure it got even uglier when I opened it.

  Welcome to OKCupid. Choose your username.

  WhiskeyRose9er. Dread crept in, followed by trepidation as my fight or flight kicked in, but I forged on, motivated by whiskey.

  I’m not proud. It had been that shitty of a day.

  I went through the signup process, and by the time Lily came back, I only had the horrible task of choosing a photo left to undertake.

  Lily set down our drinks as she slid in next to me, craning her neck to see my screen. “Oooh, profile pic. What are you going to use?”

  “I don’t know. You decide.”

  She grabbed my phone. “I was hoping you’d say that.” She opened my photos, and I picked up my drink to take a long swig. “This one. It’s slutty and classy. Perfect do-me eyes to cleavage ratio.” She handed the phone back to me.

  I sighed. “All right. Now what?”

  “Now, we search!” She was full-on grinning.

  “You are way too excited about this.” I chose from the search options, and we waited— me nervously, Lily was bouncing — while it pulled up matches. The screen filled with a long line of hotter guys than I’d prepared myself for.

  Lily blinked. “Wow. I’m actually kind of impressed.”

  “This is how annoying it is to meet someone. We all have to resort to a catalog.” I swiped through the list.

  She pointed at one. “What about that one? TylerStack88?”

  “Too ‘bro.’” I swiped again.

  “Oh, my God. SacredSnake? Please tell me that’s not a reference to his dick.”

  I looked closer at the photo. “Based on his jizzed up bathroom mirror, I’m going with probably.”

  “Hmm,” she hummed as she took a drink. “Ooh, What about him? SkateTreason? He’s cute, his picture’s good, and he skateboards, look. Click on him.”

  I did and we read through his witty profile. He sounded cool, but I paused. Too good to be true. “I’ll save him for later. Let’s see what else Cupid has hiding.” I kept swiping. “Look at this guy. UndyingArt. I love this picture of him, so cute. Nice jaw. Tattoos.”

  “Wow, Rosie,” she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Artist with a nice jaw and tattoos?”

  I smiled sweetly. “Fuck you, Lil. I have a type. Anyway, he’s blond, so it’s basically nothing like Tricky.” I opened up his profile and read his well-worded bio. “Says here he makes furniture.”

  “A man who works with his hands. He can build you a bed and then bang you on it.”

  I snorted. “I’m intrigued.”

  “Message him.”

  I made a face again. “Shouldn’t I, I don’t know, think about it for a minute? Keep browsing?”

  “Just message him and ask him for coffee. If you find a better one, ask him out too.”

  I wrinkled my nose.

  “It’s just coffee for chrissake. You’re not asking him for his DNA.”

  I contemplated his profile again, not at all sure of myself. Look, as hard as I played, and as much as I wanted to move on, it wasn’t that easy. But I needed to do something. It was time for me to really move on, especially if he was going to be staying with me. After all this time, if we were going to be friends, I had to change, do something different. It was the healthy thing to do, I told myself.

  “Well, Operation Get Over Tricky’s Junk is off to a great start.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You suck.”

  “You’re the one who won’t pull the trigger. Maybe you’re just not ready.”

  “Am too.”

  She folded her arms. all sassy. “Prove it.”

  I threw the shade right back at her. “Fine, pusher.” I clicked message button and paused for a long second, swinging back and forth between jumping and running.

  “Chicken.”

  I glared at her, then turned back to my messages. Rip off the Band-Aid, Rose. I typed out a message, hoping I didn’t sound desperate or dweeby, reading it over once.

  I’d love to meet up for coffee, you free tomorrow?

  Short, simple, to the point. I hit send and half-tossed my phone onto the table. “There. Happy?”

  Lily grinned again. “So happy. Want to look for more?”

  I picked up my drink. “I want to get wasted and hide under a rock.”

  She laughed. “It’s not like everyone doesn’t do this.”

  “Then why does it feel so pathetic? Shopping for a date online is exactly like buying condoms. You stand there scanning eighty different packages, trying to hurry because of some lingering shame, topped with the worry that someone might see you. I mean, what do you get? Ribbed? Extra sensitive? Fire and Ice? You never know what you like until you try one, so you take a risk on some shit like Fire and Ice and it ends up being a burning crotch nightmare.”

  Lily burst out laughing.

  “Seriously, whose idea was it to put Icy Hot on your genitals? I’m pretty sure that cautionary tale has been in every teen movie ever.” I took a drink. “Like I said — it’s exactly like online dating. I don’t want Fire and Ice in my lady part
s. I just need some nice, normal, no-gimmick business that won’t get me pregnant.”

  My phone buzzed in my hand.

  I gaped when I saw the message. “Oh, my God. It’s UndyingArt. He says he’s free tomorrow.”

  She squealed like a pre-teen who just got the newest Tiger Beat in the mail. “What are you going to say?”

  “Well, it’d be kind of weird to say no at this point,” I said as I answered him, setting the place, and he agreed almost immediately. Butterflies took off in my stomach. “We’re meeting at Roasted tomorrow afternoon.” I set down my phone and smiled at her. “A date with a cute artist.”

  “How do you feel?”

  I bobbed my head, rolling the feeling around. “Good, I think. That was way easier than I thought it would be, and kind of a rush. I thought it would take longer to find someone I wanted to go out with in four-point-two seconds.”

  “Well, no one would ever accuse you of being indecisive.”

  I raised my glass. “That, my friend, is very true.”

  NEGATIVE SPACE

  Patrick

  I WASN’T SURE HOW LATE it was, only that it had been long enough that the voice in the back of my mind told me I should probably leave or go to bed before she came home. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, just recrossed my ankles with my eyes on my sketchbook, telling myself I was just comfortable. That the next time I got up, I’d go to sleep. That I definitely wasn’t waiting for her to come home so I could see her.

  Music played softly from her portable speaker, a beat to drive my hand as it guided the charcoal across the page in heavy strokes. A curve and a line for her lips. The swoop of her hair. The angle of her jaw. The smallest smile resting just in the corner of her mouth as she looked away.

  I knew every detail of Rose’s face, every expression.

  I pictured her in moments permanently imprinted in my mind. As she lay in bed next to me on some otherwise unmemorable morning. After I kissed her for the first time. When I told her I wanted to end it, her face as flat and smooth as glass. I thought she didn’t care.

  Wrong.

  It wasn’t her fault, what had happened between us. I just didn’t know how to handle what I felt for her. I didn’t even know what my feelings were. Not until it was too late.