by Mari Carr
Fiona grinned, then finished her thought. “He doesn’t make my heart race anymore.”
“Okay,” Asher said quietly after studying her face a few moments, and she knew that she’d convinced him. Owen still looked dubious, but she’d prove it to him eventually. For now, she was glad to have come clean with them.
“Hey,” Teddy said, sitting back down at the booth. “Bonbon is in the bathroom. Thoughts?”
“He’s sex-on-a-stick fine,” Fiona said.
Teddy’s eyes lit up. “Right? Not bad to look at…aaaaaat allllllll.” He drew out the last two words. “It’s a shame he’s eleven eggs short of a dozen. What are you talking about over here? Looked serious for a second.”
Asher nodded his head toward her. “Fiona broke up with Brock on Valentine’s Day.”
Teddy’s expression didn’t change a bit. “When does he get back from Dubai?”
“May,” she said.
“Yeah. Right. Let’s revisit this conversation then. So, listen, about the sleeping arrangements in the hotel suite. There are two rooms, one with a king and the other with two queens. I’m thinking, since neither one of you are probably going to hook up tonight, that I should get my own room.”
Fiona looked at Owen. “I’m not the center of Teddy’s universe.”
He laughed. “Are you sure you want to be?”
Teddy snapped his fingers. “Focus, people. Bonbon. Boom-boom.” He glanced over at the table he just left. “Shit. He’s back. So we’re good on the room situation?”
Asher nodded. “We’re good.”
Teddy was gone within seconds.
Fiona watched as Teddy led his Tinder true love to the dance floor for an extremely provocative bump and grind. “I wish I was a gay guy.”
“If you were, Asher would never be able to hit on you. Since he’s super straight,” Owen joked.
She grinned, then glanced at her phone. “You know, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to check out some of those dating sites. I could try it while we’re here. Just as a test run, since I have my escape route back to the West Coast all lined up.”
Asher shook his head. “No. You and I are making a pact right now. No online-dating desperation.”
She leaned back and huffed. “Dammit, Ash. I’m not making that deal. I’m having a hard time finding a decent guy on my own. Teddy swipes right three times and boom, he’s getting lucky.”
“Have you seriously been looking around?” Owen asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. Kind of, but nothing’s clicking. I guess my wickedly good looks and brilliant mind just aren’t enough anymore. Dating sites might be my last hope.”
Owen laughed, reaching over to ruffle her hair—something he knew she hated—and she batted his hand away. “And you call me cocky.”
“I’m just saying…it’s been a long, cold winter and,” she gestured downward with a small pout, “Happy Clam is sad.”
“You know I hate it when you refer to your vagina as Happy Clam,” Asher said.
She rolled her eyes. “But it’s perfectly fine for you guys to call your dicks lightsabers.”
Owen stretched his legs, putting his feet on the bench seat Teddy left vacant. “Tinder isn’t the way to go.”
She scowled. “Says the TV star who can pick up a woman three steps outside his front door on any given day of the week.”
“Please refer to Teddy’s previous explanation of the difference. Hookup. I haven’t dated anyone I’d consider a long-term relationship with. And sometimes sleeping with groupies is worse than not dating at all.”
“Seriously?” Fiona said. “You’re bitching about getting laid? Who are you and where is Owen Winters?”
Owen grimaced and didn’t bother to argue his point any further.
Asher shrugged. “I’m siding with Fee on this one.”
She figured he would. Asher was only one month ahead of her in the newly alone stage. He and his longtime girlfriend, Christina, had split on New Year’s Eve—initiated by Asher and also a dick move, as they’d pointed out to him.
He fiddled with his mug. “At least you’re getting out and doing stuff, Owen. Apart from pizza-and-beer nights with you guys, my hand is getting quite a workout.”
Fiona nodded. “I had to replace the batteries on my old vibrator twice in the last year. Broke down a month ago and bought myself the Cadillac of vibrators in hopes of longevity.”
“Jesus,” Owen said. “Tell me again why we broke up?”
She punched him lightly on the arm, sorry he’d reminded her about their time together. Usually, she tried to forget that, tried to forget how sweet it had been with him. For all his playboy swagger, Owen had been a really considerate lover back in college. The guy had stamina, and when he went down, he stayed down until she went up and over. She’d dated too many guys who’d given Happy Clam the token swipe, then acted like it was her fault if she hadn’t come in eight seconds. She wasn’t a goddamn bull rider. A good orgasm took time.
Like Asher, most of her nights were quiet and lonely. She and the guys were together all day at work, so it wasn’t like she could expect them to entertain her at night too. They limited their after-hours interaction to a night or two a week and then the occasional weekend party, depending on what was happening in Hollywood. Lately, Fiona lived for those “extra” times.
She was young, so this should be the time she was out, sowing her wild oats, partying until she dropped. She’d fucked up, committing to Brock when she was still in college. She had squandered a lot of good years.
Then she’d talk to Ailis on the phone, hear her gush about Hunter, and realize she’d rather reap the damn grain and grow old with someone than play the field. She had tried to fool herself for years that person was Brock. Now she was back at square one with precious little dating experience under her belt.
“I think I want to get married,” she announced, not sure why she would say something so stupid out loud.
Owen turned his attention back to her as Asher said, “To who?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Somebody.”
Owen chuckled. “That’s a solid plan, Fee. I like it. You should run with that.”
“Smart-ass. I’m just saying hookups might be fine for you and Teddy, but I don’t want to do that.”
Owen shrugged one shoulder. “Not sure you have much of a choice. That’s called single life.”
“Single.” She hadn’t really attached that word to her name, which was ridiculous since that’s what she’d been for six weeks. She perked up. “Hey, you know what? I am single.” Her breakups with Brock in the past had been too short and halfhearted for her to ever really manage to change the Facebook status. Then something else occurred to her. “I think this is the first time in history that all four of us have been single at the same time.”
Asher considered that. “You’re right.”
Owen slapped the table excitedly. “We should have a swingin’ singles party.”
If Fiona was known for her tone-reading abilities, Owen was famous for finding reasons to party. She swore the guy celebrated something almost daily, be it winning an Emmy all the way to no cavities at the dentist. He was an expert celebrator.
However, this time, Fiona was all-in. “I agree. I’ll get my cousins on board. Saturday night. Big bash upstairs.”
“I like it. And you realize it’s April Fools’ Day on Saturday, right? Sort of screams theme party.” Owen lifted his glass and took a long swig of beer.
And that was when Fiona knew exactly what the theme should be. “You’re right. But not swingin’ singles. That’s too nineteen-seventy.”
Owen frowned. “I like that theme.”
She shook her head, knowing he’d like hers better. “Nope. We’re hosting an Anything Goes Night.”
Owen’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah.”
“Hey. That’s perfect,” Asher said with a grin. “A test drive of the finale. That has the potential to help with some of the plot holes Al pointed out.”
Owen groaned. “It’s a party, Ash. Not work. Repeat after me. Not work.”
Asher grinned but refused to say the words.
“Owen is right. Here’s to celebrating our singleness…with raucous, improper and immature behavior,” Fiona said as a toast.
Owen laughed. “My kind of party.”
She, Asher and Owen tapped their glasses, draining them in an unspoken chugging contest, and then they ordered another pitcher.
Shit just got real.
3
Tris had just brought them all another round when Sunnie stopped by the table.
“Hey, guys. Welcome back to Baltimore.”
He and Owen both stood up to give her quick hugs. Asher was crazy about Fiona’s family. There were approximately four thousand members of the Collins clan, and every single one of them was top notch. Funny, friendly, welcoming. Owen remarked once that all the Collins girls were pretty and the guys were great to drink with. The perfect genetic strand flowed from generation to generation.
“Sunnie,” Fiona started, “the guys and I were just planning a big party for Saturday night. It’s the first time we’ve all been single at the same time since freshman year of college. We want to kick up our heels.”
Sunnie nodded as Fiona talked. “Sounds awesome.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone.
Fiona kept describing their plans, even though Sunnie’s attention was glued to her cell. “We’re calling it ‘Anything Goes’ night, mimicking the finale we’re going to tape here next week.”
“Mmmhmm,” Sunnie hummed.
Asher expected Fiona to stop talking, since it was clear Sunnie was more interested in texting than the conversation.
“We were thinking of holding it in the Collins Dorm,” Fiona continued. “Maybe an eight o’clock start time.”
“Sounds cool,” Sunnie said, even though she hadn’t looked up once, her thumbs gliding along the screen of her phone. Finally, she hit send. “Okay. Done.”
“Awesome,” Fiona said.
“What’s done?” Asher asked.
Fiona’s phone pinged, and she grinned at the screen as Sunnie explained. “I just sent out the invites. We have a cousin text group. I sent them the details and told them it was up to them to—”
Asher’s and Owen’s phones pinged almost in unison.
Sunnie laughed as Fiona held her phone up to show them the text was from her, then finished her explanation. “It’s up to them to forward the invite to whoever they want to come.”
“Woohoo!” Teddy yelled out from across the bar. He waved his phone as they all looked in his direction. “Parrrrrtaaaaaaay!”
Sunnie glanced back down at her phone. “Already got four yeses. This is going to be epic! I’m going to head to the kitchen and get Mom to help plan the menu. You guys are in charge of the alcohol.” She pointed her finger at them. “And take it seriously. Liquor matters.”
She walked toward Sunday’s Side to find her mother, Riley, before any of them could reply.
Asher gave Owen a “WTF” look, but his friend didn’t seem a bit fazed by anything that had just happened.
“Might be the most profound thing anyone has ever said to me,” Owen mused. “Liquor matters.”
Fiona was on her phone, tapping out a list. “She’s not wrong. I have a pretty good idea of what everyone likes, and let’s face it, it’s hard to fuck up too bad when the party is happening one floor up from a bar. If we forget something or run out, we’ll steal it from here.”
“Fiona,” Asher started, but she was laughing.
“Okay, Ash. We’ll keep a list of what we take and get Uncle Tris to add it to Owen’s tab. Damn,” she said, putting down her phone. “Too much beer. Let me out, Owen. I have to pee.”
He stood up and she slid out. When Owen resumed his seat, he wasted no time starting the conversation Asher had known was coming the second Fiona had said she’d ditched Brock.
“So,” Owen began. “Fee is a free agent. You going to ask her out?”
Asher shook his head.
Owen rolled his eyes. “Let me rephrase. You wanna ask her out?”
Again, he didn’t hesitate in his answer. It wasn’t necessary. Both of Owen’s questions were rhetorical because his best friend knew the answers, so Asher nodded.
“But you’re not going to?”
Owen had caught Asher looking at Fiona a few weeks ago with way too much heat, too much desire, and he’d called him out for it when they were alone. Asher had stupidly said he wanted her, but it wasn’t meant to be. He leaned back in the booth. “Are you going to ask her out?”
Owen looked away, pretending to study the people around them. “No. I had my shot with her back when we were nineteen. It didn’t work out.”
Asher snorted. “You were both young, inexperienced kids, prone to drama. I’d hardly call that a true shot.”
“And now we’re young, experienced adults, prone to drama. How is that better?”
Asher grinned. “Good point.” Then he sobered up. “But you want another shot, don’t you?”
Owen shrugged, clearly reluctant to show his hand. “I don’t know.”
Asher had fallen madly in love with Fiona Adams when they were eighteen years old. He’d always been quiet, more reserved than the rest of their gang, and he’d suffered from a fair amount of shyness back then. Their entire freshman year had passed before he could talk to Fiona without his palms sweating.
Of course, by the time he’d overcome his nervousness enough to ask her out, Owen had beat him to the punch. The eight and a half weeks Owen and Fiona had dated had been the longest of his young life.
Then Owen and Fiona had gotten into some stupid fight, something only teenagers could hype into a disaster, and had split up. Owen hadn’t recovered easily. He’d gotten drunker than Asher had ever seen him the last semester of senior year and had sworn Fiona was the only girl he’d ever love. The pure pain on his best friend’s face was something Asher would never forget.
Fiona had found Brock Vanderbilt within weeks of her breakup with Owen. All-American boy who’d been quarterback of his high school football team and who strutted around campus like Adonis with his frat brothers.
Fiona had been devastated the first time Brock dumped her. It was shortly after graduation, and he’d gotten a job on the East Coast. She’d actually offered to move to New York with him, but the bastard had told her they should probably take a break, get their careers settled and then decide the next step.
At that time, Asher was dating Christina, who’d been their Creative Writing professor senior year. Ten years older than him, Christina had exposed Asher to fine wine, jazz music, classical literature and kinky sex. It had ended when he realized they were trapped in their teacher-student roles and it began to chafe.
Never prone to fits of anger or passion, Christina had simply accepted that he’d outgrown her. Two weeks later, she was dating another student in her class. It was a testament to how disengaged he’d been in the relationship when he’d heard that rumor and was actually happy for her…and a little bit concerned for her next young protégé.
Fiona’s first Brock split ended when the stupid man regretted his decision and showed up only a month later, and two seconds after they’d sold Wild Winters to the network. He whisked her away for Big Gesture Number One, a romantic weekend in Paris to celebrate.
Asher could sort of understand why she stayed with Brock. She hadn’t lied. Much as he hated to admit it, Brock was a pretty stand-up guy—smart and good-looking. Asher figured most of his and Owen’s problem with the man stemmed from the fact that he didn’t have much of a sense of humor. He laughed at all the right times, but there was something in the sound that always made Asher think he either didn’t get the joke or didn’t find it funny. Both were cardinal sins in his mind.
“We’re a couple of idiots,” Owen said, still not looking his direction, his gaze fixed on Teddy and his date holding hands at their table. Romance
always came easy to Teddy.
“I guess we are. It was easier to go about life as usual when she was dating Brock. Now that she’s free…” Asher didn’t finish his sentence, because it was clear Owen knew what he was thinking. As long as Fiona dated Brock, all was well because they didn’t have to think about the fact they were both in love with the same girl.
Teddy popped back over. “Hey. What gives with the gloomy faces?”
“Nothing,” Owen said, his tone a dead giveaway.
Teddy groaned. “Jesus Christ. The Free Fiona pining has already started?”
Asher shrugged, not wanting to admit his friend had hit the nail in one, but something else was bothering him more. “How did you know—”
“Jesus, Ash. You’re as transparent as glass,” Teddy interrupted. “I mean, you were distracted during the Christina years, but in college and ever since New Year’s, you can’t look at Fee without getting a boner. Pretty sure you’ve moved the writing table at work forward with that monster six inches since January.”
Asher grimaced, hating how easy he was to read, so he deflected. “Owen’s pouting too.”
Teddy looked at Owen and scowled, but Owen didn’t take the bait, didn’t bother to defend himself.
Finally, Teddy threw his hands in the air. “No,” he said loudly. “We’re not doing this. Do yourselves a favor. Look around at all the available ladies. Find a pretty one you like and ask her to dance. Then invite her back to the hotel and screw out some of this pent-up lust—but not in the room with the king-size bed. I dibbsed that first. If you don’t use your dicks enough, they wither up and fall off. It’s a scientifically proven fact.”
“We’ll take it under advisement,” Asher said with a chuckle. Thank God for Teddy. The man always knew how to make him laugh.
Owen rubbed his chin, glancing around the bar. “He makes a good point. We both know how this is going to end, and when.”
“May. Big gesture,” Asher muttered.
“So why are we beating ourselves up?” Owen asked. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s life as usual.”