Love Me Like I Love You

by Willow Winters

  The barstool tilts on two legs as I reach over and grab the one bottle of ketchup on this half of the bar and set it down in front of her.

  “Thank you,” she says politely. She always covers her chicken tenders with salt. No ketchup, they’re for the fries. No barbeque sauce. Just a little salt.

  “Oh yeah, a date? And who is this Prince Charming?” I’m surprised by the jealousy I feel as I look back at her gorgeous eyes while she cocks a brow as if to say, ‘you have no reason to be jealous’.

  “It was awful,” she says comically and a genuine smile graces her lips as she lets out a huff of a feminine laugh. A wave of relief washes over me. Holding onto the edge of the barstool and spreading my legs a little wider, I listen to her tell me about this guy, Jason.

  I steal a fry, and then another. Each time it only makes her smile more. After a few fries remind me how full I am from dinner I know I’m not really hungry, but I’m used to stealing a bit off her plate when she orders food. I guess we both have some habits now.

  “And then what?” I ask her wanting to know more about this horrible date.

  I wonder what it was like from his perspective. If he really saw her for who she is. The thought makes my heart do a small flip, but I barely notice as her hand absently brushes mine again and she leans in. The sparks are still there, but I’m better at hiding that it happened this time around.

  “I can’t even tell you,” she states and she’s animated as she talks. “It was just something about him. He was so… so… arrogant and cocky. He was rude.” She purses her lips for a minute. “And he was definitely balding.”

  Letting out a chuckle, I take in the bar with a smile. The floor’s covered, patrons are being served and Frankie’s going to need another in about five minutes.

  My phone rings and I absently check it, forgetting that I was in the middle of a conversation with Ma before Grace came in.

  I know you got the text, Charlie. I’m only trying to help.

  Deleting what I was going to send before, I text my mom back: I know Ma. Love you and hit the side button on my phone, pushing off of the bar to get myself a water. I could really use a beer, but I learned a long time ago not to let that happen on the clock. I have to set an example. If you’re working, you’re not drinking.

  “What’s wrong?” Grace asks. I grab a bottle of water from the built-in beverage refrigerator.

  I don’t answer her right away. Instead, I twist the cap off and take a swig and then another. I should really grab a Coke; I need the caffeine. Giving her a one armed shrug, I set the bottle down below the counter and make my way back to the stool in front of Grace. My eyes travel to the clock on the side wall. It’s going to get busy real soon.

  “It’s nothing. Just my mom checking in on me,” I say.

  Grace’s expression doesn’t give much away, but she keeps looking at me. She cocks a brow, pressing me for more information.

  An easy laugh rumbles up through my chest as I grab the bottle and take another sip. “My sister’s getting married, and my ma thinks she’s going to set me up at the wedding.”

  Grace must get a real good kick out of that, judging by the huge smile on her face. I never noticed how perfect her smile is. Damn, those doe eyes light right up, too. They're shining with happiness as she claps her hands once and smiles.

  “You think, it’s funny that she’s trying to hook me up with someone?” I tease her. “Better than OKCupid or whatever you’re using.”

  Her eyebrows raise, and she purses her lips before taking another french fry and biting into it. She wags the half of fry left at me before admitting, “You’re probably right.”

  It’s quiet for a moment, and my phone pings again.

  We both look at it on the bar, but I don’t flip it over to see what Ma said. It’s probably just ‘I love you too’.

  “You should probably answer her,” Grace says with a sly smile.

  I steal two fries and shove them into my mouth, staring at her the whole time.

  She gapes at me. She looks at the phone as if she’s going to take it, but she doesn’t. I like this more aggressive, competitive side of her.

  She doesn’t push though, instead she takes a sip of her beer.

  I reach for my phone, giving in and I don’t miss the smile on Grace’s face as she takes another a sip of her beer. There are actually two messages waiting for me:

  I love you too. But seriously… She’s really nice, and available!

  You should meet the girl Ma’s talking about.

  That second one is from Ali. I toss the phone down onto the bar and let out a frustrated sigh. I know they’re only playing, and they’re only trying to help, but I’m not interested. A light goes off in my head, and I finally pick up the phone and type a response.

  I’m already seeing someone. So I don’t need a date.

  Not thirty seconds after setting the phone down does it go off over and over.

  What?

  Who?

  When were you going to tell me about it?

  Is she coming to the wedding?

  “Oh my God.” Grace’s eyes go wide, although she can’t contain the wide grin on her face. “What did you tell her?”

  Sitting up straighter on her stool, she leans over to look as another few text messages come in.

  I watch her reaction as she scrolls through them delicately, just using her pointer finger and leaving the phone sitting on the bar. I’m taken aback when the smile falls from her face and she slowly sits back on her stool.

  Why didn’t you tell me?

  I don’t believe you…

  Bring the girl to the wedding, or else!

  “So you have a girlfriend?” she asks me softly. I’m not sure if I’m imagining the hurt there, or if it’s genuine.

  I grab the phone and read the messages again as I answer. “No, no girlfriend.”

  “So you lied?” The happiness comes right back as she bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes on me.

  I let a small chuckle slip out. “Yeah. But now I’m screwed.”

  “Just say she can’t come.” Grace shrugs, grabbing a fry and chewing at the end. She has no idea what how adamant my family will be to meet this new girlfriend. I can’t for the life of me think what I was doing. Maybe I’m just sleep deprived.

  After grabbing Frank a beer and asking a few guests if they need anything, I head back to Grace with the inevitable truth: “They’re going to want proof.”

  “What?” she says like they’re crazy.

  “You didn’t grow up in a small town, did you?” I ask her. She has no idea what it’s like. When everyone knows everything, and word gets around faster than a forest fire in a drought.

  She shakes her head, finishing off the fry and reaching for one of the last remaining fried pieces of deliciousness.

  “I grew up in Ellijay. My family is nosy, but so is the whole town. Everybody knows everybody’s business.” I pause, considering. “I shouldn’t have told them I’m seeing someone.”

  Grace sucks on the tips of her two fingers quickly, most likely for that last bit of salt, and my eyes are drawn to her mouth. She doesn’t mean it to be sexual as she licks the salt clean, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t turn me on.

  “Take a picture of us,” she offers with a nonchalant shoulder lift. “I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend for the picture and there’s your proof.”

  She winks at me and grabs her beer, although that beautiful blush comes back with a vengeance.

  It feels like a dare, and I’m happy to take it. I reach for the phone and scoot closer to her. Smiling, I snap a couple of photos.

  As I sit back down on my seat I take a look at them; one is just right. She’s drinking her beer, although she’s smiling still. She looks sweet, happy even. I think Ma would like her.

  “That’ll get them off your back,” Grace says. There’s that same dare hidden in her voice, but the effect is dimmed as she looks away and bites down on her bottom lip. My shy sweeth
eart.

  As I hit send, Grace finishes off her beer. I don’t hesitate to get her another. I know she wants it.

  This time when our fingers touch, I don’t let the bottle go. She tugs a bit harder, then realizes I’m messing with her. The smile lights up her face and the texts light up my phone on the bar.

  Grace grabs it before I can, letting go of the beer.

  Her mouth forms a beautiful “O” as she gapes at the screen. I can only imagine her lips wrapped around my cock like that. I shamefully adjust my hardening dick in my jeans as she points to the phone, completely unaware. Damn I want this chick. How have I not wanted her this bad before tonight?

  “They really want me to come to the wedding,” she teases and her sweet laugh is music to my ears.

  “It’s two weeks away,” I say and then take a sip of her beer. I shouldn’t, but it’s only one sip. And it’s hers. “You really want to play my girlfriend for two weeks and go to the wedding with me?”

  I ask the question playfully, but there’s a serious hint hidden in there. A dare.

  “What do I get?” she asks.

  “What do you want?” My dick twitches in my pants at the thought of her answering with that desire I see in her eyes.

  “Let me think about what I want,” she answers in a soft voice.

  She grabs the second to last fry and watches as I slowly reach the last one.

  “What is it that you get again? You’re willing to do something for just a date?” she asks, forcing my eyes to reach hers.

  “Nope. It’s more than just a date. It’s my family off my back.”

  I nod to the phone and bite the fry as I wait for her response. Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I’ll give it to you.

  “Okay then... you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “What’s my end of the bargain?” I ask her with a smirk on my face.

  She bites down on her bottom lip and I know what she wants is right there, on the tip of her tongue, but she won’t say it. I know what she wants. She wants to go slumming, get all tangled up in the sheets with the man she thinks I am. All she has to do is ask. Hell, she can have me every night for these two weeks and then some.

  “I’ll figure something out,” she says, shifting on her barstool.

  I’m playing with fire, knowing damn well this girl wants to settle down. She doesn’t want to wind up with me, I know that much. But I’ll play along.

  This is all for fun. I just need to remember that. It’s just a drunken deal; it probably won’t even happen.

  Grace

  I want you to knock me up.

  I could feel the words on the tip of my tongue when I was making a deal with Charlie, even though I know that’s not realistic and sounds absolutely insane.

  It’s not an even trade.

  A baby isn’t a decision to make in a bar with a kind-of-friend.

  I have officially lost my mind.

  I’ll figure out how I’m going to deal with my… issues. But for now, I’m focusing on the positive. I have a date… sort of. It’s just pretend but… yeah, I’m going to treat it like a date because dammit I want a nice date and a refresher on exactly how to date.

  As I drive home from Mac's, I can’t help the smile that lights up my face. It’s silly, I know. The very idea of Charlie going on a date with me is laughable. I get that.

  But I still let my imagination run wild as I drive back into the city.

  Fantasies about Charlie picking me up for the wedding run through my head and I just laugh it off. I’d wear a pretty pale blue dress, lacy but not scandalous, and dark blue heels. A giddy squeal leaves me when I imagine opening the front door to my apartment, and he takes a moment to look at me. Really look at me, and drink me in.

  Standing there in his wedding tux, I assume… since he’s probably a groomsman, he looks fucking dashing. In the fantasy, I bite my lip and look downward, trying not to show him all the emotions just beneath the surface.

  He whistles, long and low. My eyes drift up, catching his.

  “Damn, you are the kind of girl I’d like to date,” he says. “As a matter of fact, I think you’d look even better if you were carrying my child…”

  I can’t help but laugh out loud in my car as I pull into my parking spot. My reverie fizzles away, gone like smoke. How ridiculous!

  Okay, so the real Charlie definitely wouldn’t say that and that’s not how this is going to go down, but I’d rather think of that than my nearly-forgotten, crap date from tonight. My cheeks hurt from smiling as I turn the car off and shake my head. I need to get my head on straight, because going to Charlie’s sister’s wedding isn’t even a real date. I’m probably not even on his radar, for God’s sake. It’s just meaningless flirting. For all I know, he’s not actually going to go through with this plan.

  Yeah it’s definitely not going to happen and that’s just fine. It’s fun to daydream though. So long as my silly little heart keeps itself in check. Charlie is a friend and nothing else.

  Sighing as I get out of my car, I lock up the idea at the same time as I lock up my car and then climb the two flights of stairs to my apartment. Only on the tenth stair do I feel the weight of the drinks I’ve had. I’m not too tipsy but I am more tired than I realized. I usually don’t stay out this long, but tonight, I didn’t want to leave.

  It’s quiet out tonight, the city lulled to sleep by a long day of constant rushing.

  The breeze feels nice tonight too. The keys jingle as I toss them in the bowl on the front entry table next to my purse.

  Illuminating my tiny studio with a flick of the switch, I take it all in with new eyes, as Charlie would see it for the first time. Once upon a time, I found the fact that my bed overlooks the fire escape romantic. I used to like the way that my kitchen is just a small bar, with a mini fridge and stove.

  I used to be charmed by the tiny bathroom, painted in a soft shade of purple with retro white tile. Back when I found this place, I was glad that I had something in the big city that I could call my own.

  The mattress groans as I sit down on the frilly white bed and take my shoes off. I kick them over to the wall where I have my ‘closet,’ i.e. a hanging rack jammed full and ready to tip over. I rub the sleep from my eyes and then take a good look around at the space I spent so much time making mine.

  I know I have to move soon. I’ve lived here for almost four years, and it was great in college and the couple of years after. But now I have a real job and I’m doing well, so…

  I need to seriously think about moving.

  The weight of the day hits me as I undress and then crawl into bed, wondering where I should move to. Climbing under the comforter the answer is obvious to me and the neighborhood around Mac's flashes in my mind. There are plenty of cute houses for rent in Vinings.

  A blush flames my cheeks when I realize that I’m actually fantasizing about living near Charlie, but it’s not like I didn’t think about living there before I ever set eyes on the man. I settle on my side, staring out the window to the fire escape.

  I imagine living close enough to Charlie that he just stops by late at night, his broad shoulders and quiet grin filling my doorway. I groan aloud, turning onto my back.

  Charlie, Charlie, Charlie… I have a one-track mind today.

  His sister’s wedding is not a date! I need to remember that, to get it through my thick skull.

  He just asked me to pacify his family and not get set up on a blind date. As I stare at the ceiling, I honestly can’t believe that he asked me, or that I said yes. But after he sent the picture of us together to his mom, it was kinda hard to say no. I definitely blame it on the alcohol, and on the smile that Charlie pinned me with.

  The combination of those two things is enough to get any girl to drop her guard.

  I’ve been a regular at Mac’s for long enough that if he was into me, he would have already asked me out before now. And it wouldn’t be some stupid deal to keep his family off his back.

  The worries an
d anxiety attached to IVF and knowing I should freeze my eggs come back and hit me like a ton of bricks… or maybe like walking straight into a cold shower. I haven’t even considered that I'll need a bigger place to live if I do get pregnant. A new house with separate rooms, that could accommodate a nursery, unlike my studio.

  I’m so ready to be a parent in my heart of hearts, but so not ready on a practical level. There’s so much that will have to change before I can have a child.

  A strangled noise of frustration climbs up my throat, and I jump up to get my cell phone from my purse. How did I forget to charge it? Getting back in bed, I open the Tinder dating app, the long cord from the charger reaching to the middle of the bed just fine.

  I purse my lips as I swipe through several guys. I swipe left for pass, right for potential. I swipe left several times, stopping on a hot guy. Dark hair, tan, tallish from his pictures…

  But I see that he’s just visiting Atlanta from Texas this weekend. I swipe left regretfully, turning him down. There are half a dozen of the same kind of men, a hot guy just looking for a girl to show him the city for the weekend.

  Not for me, unfortunately. I swipe for a couple more minutes, then Tinder lets me know I’m out of matches. I surrender and pretend I didn’t just do that to convince myself I’m not hung up on Charlie and any potential there. Heck, I don’t even have his phone number.

  Maybe it’s crazy to think that I can get a baby and the man of my dreams from one person. Maybe I get the hottie later — after I have a baby on my own.

  I picture myself with a grinning baby in my arms, both of us beyond happy. I don’t really need a guy to give me that, do I? Maybe freezing my eggs waiting for the man isn’t the way to go.

  Of course, getting a donor from a sperm bank is pricey and clinical. I’ve never even considered it an option, but the more I think about it…

  My eyes wander back to my phone. I could get a donor myself, the old-fashioned way. Hook up with some super hot, super smart guy without protection. A guy like Charlie.