Dating Roulette

by D. Kelly

  The bad parts:

  Tonight, there were a lot of bad things. Still, none of them even come close to something that would make me walk away from you or from us.

  We ran into Finn, and you didn’t take it well.

  Maria called, and I didn’t take it well. I know we talked about it, but I’m still not sure how I feel about her coming back to town. Well, maybe that’s a lie: one thing I know for sure is that I’m jealous and really insecure. I probably shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it. She’s gorgeous, sweet, and sexy, and you loved her and probably still do.

  You tag-teamed me with my mom. That wasn’t nice. But I forgive you because a man who gets along with my parents is the best kind of man there is.

  I’m beginning to wonder if I’m obsessed with you. I think about you all the time. Everything I do, I wonder if you’d approve. If it would make you happy. How it would make you feel. I’ve never been in love—is this what it’s like? Measuring your every move against someone else’s happiness and morals? I can’t imagine it’s healthy, and I don’t think I’d want to do that with anyone but you. Knowing I’m doing something that pleases you, or something that hurts you, is the best and the worst feeling in the world.

  You confessed you were going to try to leave this world at one point. Tristan, regardless of what may or may not happen between us, please tell me if you ever get to that point again. A world without you—my best friend, the man I’m head over heels in love with—would not be a world I’d want to keep living in. The way we connect . . . I don’t think you’re only supposed to be mine for this lifetime. I think you’re supposed to be mine in every lifetime.

  After tonight, after your confession, my dating ritual seems ridiculous. Whatever happens next, this is the last round of dating roulette. Win or lose, this game ends with you, and I think that’s the way it was always supposed to be.

  Last, but not least, tonight I had a glimpse of what it would be like to lose you to someone else. It hurt more than I’d ever imagined. I’m scared, Tristan. If this thing between us ends, I don’t know how to stay friends, but I suppose we’ll always try to figure it out over pancakes at Rudy’s on Saturday mornings.

  “Let me get this straight. Bexley is in her room right now getting ready to go out with another guy. And you’re okay with this?” Adam’s outrage proves my best friend has my back.

  “Far from okay, but I trust her. She’s not my girlfriend, and I can’t tell her to fuck up her job. She promised her boss, and now she’s stuck.”

  Adam’s player dies on the screen, and he flops back against the couch. “This is fucked up, Tris.”

  “What’s fucked up?” Bexley emerges from her room wearing my favorite dress. It’s navy blue and hugs all her curves. She walks in front of me and crouches down, pulling her heels out from under the table. Her ass is molded to that dress and brushing against my calf. I don’t even bother stifling the moan.

  “Bex, you’re killing him. Go change. You shouldn’t be dressing that sexy for a co-worker. Go take Tristan’s favorite dress off and put something else on.”

  Oh, hell. Adam said what I would have loved to, but I’m not a misogynistic asshole. I can’t tell her how to dress, and even if I could, what she wears is not indicative of what might happen tonight.

  After slipping her shoes on, she rises to her full height, nostrils flaring. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that to me. Tristan, can I see you in my room for a moment?” Bex stalks off.

  “Great, thanks for that. I’ll be back after she hands my ass back to me.” Adam’s laughter follows me down the hall. I step into the room while admiring the view of her backside. Damn that dress.

  “Close the door,” she calls out as she digs through her closet. Not only do I close the door, but I lock it too.

  “I’m sorry. You know how Adam can be.”

  She ignores me as she flips through her clothes. “Is this your favorite dress?”

  I walk toward her and pull her back to my front, letting my dick do all the talking. “What do you think?” I slide my hands up the front of her body and ghost them over her breasts.

  “I think it’s sad that Adam knows you have a favorite thing that I wear and I don’t.”

  “Well, to be fair, it wouldn’t have been gentlemanly or best-friend-like to say, ‘Bexley, every time you wear that dress, my cock reminds me how much I love how you look in it.’ But now that we’re talking about it, you have no idea the number of depraved thoughts I’ve had about you in this dress.”

  “Fuck,” she hisses as she kicks off her heels. “I’m running completely behind schedule. Unzip my dress and get out.”

  “You don’t have to change, Bex. It’s okay.”

  “Nope, it’s not. I’m wearing the funeral dress. Attractive but low-key. I’m not changing for you, exactly . . . I’m changing for me. I don’t want your favorite dress tainted forever, and if it affects you like this, it might affect Finn like that too, and that’s not what I want.”

  “God I—” Can’t believe I almost slipped and said I love you. Time to cover. “Wish you weren’t going out tonight so we could have date number six.” Also, true.

  She turns her head and kisses me on the cheek. “Me too, and the quicker you unzip me, the faster I can get dressed, and the sooner I’ll be home so you can kiss me good night.”

  I unzip her dress like I’ve done a thousand times before, but this time, I wish it was because we were about to slip between the sheets. When I reach the door, I pause with my hand on the doorknob. “Angel?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Try not to let him steal your heart, okay?”

  She sucks in an audible breath, but I’m still not looking her way. “Never. It already belongs to someone else.”

  I let myself out of her room and lean against the hallway wall. My pulse thrums against my eardrum. I’m going to hate myself for not seizing that moment, but if I had, she would’ve never left the house tonight, and I can’t be the reason she loses her job.

  Adam and I resume our game, and within a couple of minutes, the doorbell rings.

  “I’ll get it,” Adam says, jumping up. He knows it’s Finn, and right now, it’s a good thing to keep some distance between him and me.

  “I’m here to pick up Bexley.”

  I don’t even need to see his face to know he’s wearing that same smug grin he had at the grocery store.

  “And you are?” Adam crosses his arms in front of him. He could be a bodyguard with his physique, but Finn isn’t riled in the slightest.

  “Her date, Finn.”

  “My co-worker,” Bex corrects, entering the room. Irritation flares in her eyes as she makes her way to me. Bexley leans down and kisses me right on the lips in front of them both. “I won’t be home too late. Wait up?”

  “Always.” I make sure my reply is loud and clear.

  Adam flashes Finn a smug grin, and the guy looks like he’s sucked on a lemon. Serves the asshole right.

  “Later, Bex,” Adam says, closing the door behind them. “Dude, she really doesn’t like that guy, does she?”

  “I really don’t like that guy. He said that to get a rise out of me. I know it.”

  Adam grabs a couple of beers and uncaps them before bringing me one. “Have you two fucked yet?”

  “You know Bex doesn’t have sex with her dates.”

  He eyes me skeptically. “All right, maybe you haven’t had ‘actual’ sex, but admit it: you’ve seen her ‘O’ face.”

  I’m too frustrated to keep playing and toss down the controller. “Why do you ask? This is Bexley, not some random chick. I’m not giving you details, Adam.”

  He holds his hand up in surrender. “And I’m not asking for details. The way she stalked toward you and kissed you in front of us both was very un-Bex like. That wasn’t a friends kiss, that was a he’s-fucking-my-brains-out kiss. She just drew a definitive line in the sand with him. Why aren’t you happy?
”

  “Did you see him?”

  Adam shrugs. “He was a good-looking guy.” When I narrow my gaze at him, he pounds the rest of his beer. “What? I can appreciate a good-looking man, and I’m secure enough in my masculinity to admit when I see one. You’re pretty hot yourself, Tris, but that doesn’t mean I want to fuck. I happen to love pussy, and that won’t ever change.”

  There’s the Adam I know.

  I try to explain where I’m coming from. “He’s smooth, sophisticated, and the typical Bexley date. But he’s also sleazy. Saying he’s her date, knowing damn well he isn’t? That pisses me off.”

  Adam side-eyes me. “Calm down. First of all, you nailed it in a nutshell. Typical Bexley date. Those haven’t worked out so well for her in the past ten years, have they? Secondly, it’s obvious she sees through him and doesn’t appreciate his tactics. Bex can handle him. Relax.”

  Adam leaves about an hour later, and I can’t stop thinking about my parents. I never asked for details about my mom’s affair, but I’ll never forget one specific night when it all first came out.

  It was a warm summer night, and all the windows were open. My parents were fighting again, and I was lying on my bed with the lights out. The covered patio was just to the right of my bedroom window, and my dad was out there smoking a cigar.

  “Why him?” Dad’s raspy voice carried easily through the still night. He sounded so choked up I could almost picture the tears streaming down his face.

  The metal patio chair screeched across the cement. Mom’s sobs followed the sound. “He made me feel wanted, desired.”

  “And I don’t?” Dad was getting angry.

  “Oh, honey, you do. No matter how hard I try to explain it, I’ll never do it justice. He has an air about him. Assurance, confidence . . .”

  “It’s because he’s a rich son-of-a-bitch. He can buy anything, including my wife, apparently.”

  The sound of her skin against his ricocheted into the night. “Hal, I’m so sorry!” she cried out, sobbing even louder. I couldn’t believe she hit him.

  “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I need to know, Nancy, please . . .”

  My dad was broken; I could hear it in his voice. I was just as angry with my mom as he was. I no longer felt guilty for listening to their private conversation. My guilt for violating their privacy fell to the wayside, and I listened eagerly, hoping to understand why she did this to our family.

  “It’s a look he gets. He reaches out and touches my arm, and desire flares in his eyes. My heart races, and it becomes impossible to deny our chemistry. When I tried to assert myself and remind us both I was a married woman, he would compliment me. Remind me I have needs and that I’m more than a wife and a mother. It was like he could take away all of my worries and all of my fears. It was nice to hand them over, to let him make me forget. I knew it was wrong, but when I would come home, I would feel closer to you.”

  Dad snorted loudly.

  Mom sighed.

  “I know how it sounds, and I can’t explain it at all, but it’s true. Your jokes seemed funnier; your touch gave me butterflies again. Sitting with you and holding your hand made me happier than it had in years. Suddenly, I cherished you in a way I hadn’t before, and I realized how much I’d neglected you, neglected us. I miss us, Hal, and I’m sorry for breaking our marriage and letting someone so unworthy come between us.”

  Later on, I figured out who my mom had been with, and he was a lot like Finn. He was sleek and sophisticated, and would do whatever it took to get what he wanted. My mom isn’t a stupid woman; she never was. Either she pulled one over on my dad to get him to take her back, or he was one of those men who knew how to find a woman’s weakness and prey on it.

  Bexley isn’t stupid, but she is compassionate and eager to please everyone, which is why I’m here worried about her instead of on our sixth date—as I originally hoped we’d be.

  “Tristan, wake up.”

  I blink rapidly and find Bex kneeling on the floor next to the couch. Her thumb traces my lip, and she smiles as my eyes focus.

  “What time is it?” I ask groggily.

  She scowls but quickly makes her expression neutral. “Late, almost midnight.”

  “Oh.” If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

  “Please don’t be mad at me.” Her pleading tone hits me straight in the gut.

  “I don’t have the right to be mad at you.”

  She flinches, but maybe this is a case of the truth hurting. “We went to dinner, and then I was supposed to show him around and get him familiar with the area. Instead, his friend got him an exclusive invite to a new jazz club. I tried to leave, but he said he wanted to repay me for helping him out. Then my boss texted me to check in, and I felt obligated to stay.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me.” I move to sit up, but she places her hand over my heart.

  “I know I don’t, but it doesn’t change the fact I would have rather been on date six with you. Tomorrow night, I have something special planned for us. Dress for fun, and be prepared to be wowed.”

  This time, her smile is contagious, and when she leans down to kiss me, I let her. She tastes like whiskey and cinnamon. While the combination is sexy as can be, it also means she really did have a shit night.

  “Whiskey, Bex?” I sit up and pull her to her feet so I can walk her to her door.

  “What can I say? I told you I’d have rather been here.”

  “We’ll make up for the lost time tomorrow.” I lean down and kiss her briefly. “Good night, Bexley.”

  “Night, Tris.”

  Today has been rough. I woke up late, put out one fire after another at the office, and had to deal with my mom’s wrath because she bumped into Bex’s mom at the store, who raved about what a cute couple we are. Mom was hurt I hadn’t told her and didn’t believe me when I said there wasn’t much to tell yet.

  It’s not like I can tell her there is a man in Bex’s life who reminds me of the one she had an affair with. This entire situation has me on edge, and I can’t shake it. I wish Bex would come work for me, but she loves her job.

  By the time I finally drag myself into the house, I’m exhausted, but as soon as I see Bexley waiting for me, my mood lightens. It’s date night, and once we get past Thursday, maybe it will be easier to let the Finn stuff go. If only she didn’t have one more night to spend showing him the town tomorrow.

  Her eyes are glimmering in excitement. “Are you ready?”

  “Let me shower, and then we can go.”

  “Nope, trust me, you can shower when we get home. Change into something more comfortable, though.”

  I’m in a suit today, which is rare, but I had back-to-back licensing meetings and had to look the part of business owner instead of gamer.

  By the time I make it back to the living room, Bex has her keys in hand and is bouncing up and down on the tips of her toes.

  She squeals when she sees I’m ready. “I’m so excited; let’s go!”

  I follow her outside, laughing as we walk to the car. Her excitement is contagious. “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “It’s a surprise, but you’re going to love it.”

  Bexley navigates the traffic like a typical LA native, and thirty minutes later, she pulls up behind an industrial complex in the valley. Once we’re out of the car, she grabs my hand and pulls me to an unmarked door and knocks.

  A college-age kid opens it and eyes her appreciatively. “You must be Bexley.”

  “The one and only, and this is Tristan.”

  “’Sup man, come on in. So, like I told you on the phone, the place is yours for the next three hours. Everything has been set to free play. I’ll be at the desk if you need me or have any questions.”

  The kid opens another door and ushers us into a huge open space. We’re at a ticket counter filled with prizes, and when I look around, my eyes widen. Electroni
c games of all makes fill the space. I crane my neck to look up, and the second floor looks to be more of the same. Multicolored lights flash around the room as music and electronic voices from the games beckon my soul—I’m like a kid in a candy store. Bexley slides her arm through mine. “What do you think?”

  I pull her close and cover her lips with mine. Our kiss is brief; I pull back a second after our tongues meet. I don’t want to give the kid a show or start something I won’t want to stop.

  I’m blown away. “This might be the best date ever. You’re amazing.”

  She shrugs. “I try. Come on, let’s start with Skee-Ball.”

  As we walk farther into the warehouse, I’m able to fully comprehend what’s here. This entire warehouse is an arcade filled with every game imaginable. There are pinball machines galore—a plethora from the seventies, eighties, and nineties. I can’t believe she planned our date in this massive, two-story electronic paradise. I spin in a circle, trying to take it all in, and she laughs.

  “Tris, reel in the inner geek and focus. There is so much to do, and we only have three hours to do it. Let’s have some fun.”

  We spend the next three hours reliving our teen years and respective childhoods. We have dance battles even though we both suck. We shoot hoops, drive virtual race cars, have pinball tournaments, Skee-Ball competitions, play air hockey, and rotate through a plethora of video games. It’s the most fun I’ve ever had on a date and the best company too.

  When our time is up, we’re both starving and exhilarated. We walk hand in hand to the car, and when we get there, I push her up against it. Our lips meet, and our tongues battle for power. She moans, and my dick jumps. Her sighs are the best aphrodisiac.

  “Thank you for tonight. Hands down the best date ever. Can I buy you dinner?” I ask as we part. It’s the least I can do after she went all out.

  “You’re welcome. I had a lot of fun too, but the best part was seeing the stress melt off you. You looked like you had a rough day today.”

  “I did, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. So dinner?”