Dating Roulette

by D. Kelly

  The drive to the hotel is quiet. I booked a suite because if I’m going to be miserable, I can do it in a nice room with most of the comforts of home. Adam tried to come inside with me, but I told him to go back to Rita. All I want right now is to be alone.

  After I’ve taken a hot shower and cried like a little bitch, I’m exhausted. It’s after eleven, and Bexley hasn’t tried to call me all night. She hasn’t even texted, which would be rare for her, but she does it occasionally if it’s important. I can’t understand how I’ve become such an afterthought.

  I’ve given consideration to Rita’s suggestion about her being drugged, but she looked fine, and Adam was right: Sasha would have noticed, without a doubt. Plus, I might not like Finn, but he’s a professional with a lot on the line. It’s possible he could drug women, but unlikely for a guy like him. He’s all about the chase.

  I didn’t think I would fall asleep, but my phone rings a little after twelve and wakes me. It’s Adam.

  “Hey.” My voice is raspy, and I sit up and grab my water from the bedside table.

  “Rita texted me a few minutes ago. Bexley is home, and she’s extremely drunk.”

  “Good for her.”

  “Tris, I know you’re a bit drunk yourself, so I’m not going to get into this with you too deep tonight, but Bex’s phone was dead. Before she even got to the bar.”

  “No, that’s bullshit. She pulled it out when I called.”

  He sighs. “I know, but you two have always had an eerie connection. Maybe she sensed you. Rita has the phone; she plugged it in and even sent me a screenshot of when it powered up. The missed calls and messages were all there. She wasn’t lying.”

  “And she couldn’t have used Sasha’s phone to call me? His phone? She couldn’t have said, ‘Hey Finn, I’m supposed to meet Tristan. We have plans.’”

  “You’re right, she could have, but she didn’t. Rita said Bex’s number-one goal when she got home was to crawl into your bed and beg you for a slumber party for date number seven.”

  I’m conflicted. On the one hand, that would have been incredibly sexy, and on the other, I know what I saw tonight, and her comfort level with Finn was beyond co-worker status. “I need time to think, Adam, and to get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  I power off my phone and set it back on the nightstand. All I want to do right now is sleep and push Bex and Finn out of my mind.

  Sweet Jesus, why does my head feel like someone used it as a ping-pong ball all night?

  “Rise and shine. We have major damages to fix, but first, you need to brush those teeth and drink the coffee I just made you.”

  “Rita?” I blink rapidly, trying to open my eyes, which are currently stuck together by sleep and the makeup I must’ve forgotten to wash off before bed. Gross.

  “The one and only. Normally, I wouldn’t wake you, but it’s eleven a.m., and if we’re going to use our sick days to play hooky, we better make the most of them.”

  I sit up quickly once her words have processed and regret it immediately. When I clutch my head in my hands, she snorts but has the decency to help.

  Rita holds out the ibuprofen for me. “Take these and drink this water. Adam even dropped off a greasy bagel sandwich from your favorite hangover spot.”

  After tossing back the pills and drinking half the bottle of water, my eyes finally meet hers. As I look around, I realize I’m in Tristan’s room, and last night starts coming back to me slowly.

  “Why is Adam being nice to me?” I ask.

  She gazes at me sympathetically. “Go wash your face and meet me in the kitchen. This is a long story.”

  The water sloshes around my stomach like the ocean during a storm, but I’m not sure it’s only the hangover making me nauseous. I’m growing more and more uneasy by the minute. After I’ve washed my face, brushed my teeth, and relieved my bladder, I feel marginally human again.

  By the time I join Rita in the kitchen, she has my coffee made just the way I like it and the sandwich heated and on a plate for me.

  I flash her a weary smile. “Maybe I should marry you. Why are you spoiling me this morning? Should I be worried?”

  She finishes making her coffee, and I bite into the sandwich. Nothing is better than an egg, cheese, and bacon bagel to soak up the bitter remnants of alcohol.

  When Rita sits, she brings her mug to her lips and hums as the coffee hits her tongue. I take a few more bites and let her get the caffeine jumpstart she needs.

  After pushing away the rest of the giant breakfast sandwich, I sip my coffee before bringing my eyes to hers. “Can you explain to me what in the world is going on?”

  “Oh, honey, I wish I didn’t have to. Let’s take our coffee in the living room and get comfortable.”

  Once we’re settled on the couch comfortably, my nerves kick in. “Rita, why do I feel like you’re about to give me bad news?”

  “Because I am, but before we talk about what happened last night, tell me what happened with you and Finn. How did we get from him being a creeper and me checking in on you, to you partying it up with him at the bar?”

  I take a few minutes and fill her in about what happened in my office. “I enjoyed his company last night. He wasn’t the total asshat he’d previously shown himself to be. We drove around, I showed him some must-know places, and we went to the bar. I pulled out my phone to call Tris, and it was dead. By then, Sasha was sabotaging my drinks with extra shots, but I didn’t know it.”

  “Why didn’t you use the bar phone or Finn’s to call Tristan, or me for that matter?”

  Damn, I feel like a jerk. “I’m sorry. I should have called you, but I couldn’t remember your new number.” I explain to her my debate about Finn and Tris having each other’s numbers. “Finally, I shrugged it off and figured I’d be out of there in less than thirty minutes, and I’d see Tristan soon.”

  Her irritation fades as her eyes light up. “But instead you were wasted and stayed for Eli’s show.”

  “You don’t know Sasha, but she’s hard to say no to. She just wanted me to have a fun time, and since she and Finn were flirting all night, and they exchanged numbers, I think she was trying to keep us around a bit longer. By the time the second drink arrived, I was really buzzed.” I finish telling her everything I remember about last night, and she takes it all in, asking very few questions.

  Rita tucks her feet beneath her and faces me on the couch. “Last night, Tristan and Adam were also at Just an Illusion. They were upstairs and had the perfect view of you and Finn sitting at the bar . . .”

  When Rita finishes her story, I’m sick to my stomach. Tristan thinks I was flirting with Finn.

  “That’s not true, though. I would never do anything to hurt Tristan.” How could he possibly believe this?

  She reaches over and squeezes my hand as I blink back tears. “I know you wouldn’t, and I think it’s shitty they didn’t tell you they were there. But I can also understand why they didn’t. I know you would’ve never intentionally done anything wrong.”

  “Rita, I love him!”

  “I’m sure you do, but he’s hurting right now. Regardless of how you feel, he saw what he saw, and so did Adam.”

  My head is spinning. I have to figure out how to make this right. I recall my version of the night. The guy who bumped into me, all the gushing I did to Finn about Tris and how incredibly smart and dedicated he is to his business. I jump up from the couch, not willing to waste another minute.

  “What are you doing?” Rita asks.

  “Going to Adam’s to talk to Tristan.”

  Rita stands and places her hands firmly on my shoulders. “First of all, you have to shower.” When I start to argue, she cuts me off. “No one wants to smell last night’s hangover lingering. Especially if there’s a hint of Finn’s scent on you.”

  Okay, she’s got me there.

  “Secondly, Tristan didn’t go to Adam’s; he rented a hotel somewhere. Before you a
sk, I don’t know, and Adam wouldn’t tell me where. You’re going to have to get that information from him or get ahold of Tristan himself to figure that out. Bexley, it was all Tris could do not to cry in front of us last night. He was devastated. Honestly, I never took him for such an emotional guy who would jump to conclusions.” She shrugs and continues, “but when you see something with your own eyes, even if it’s out of context, I guess your feelings tend to take over.”

  When she releases me, I grasp onto the back of the couch. “This is about more than just me. His past is coming back to haunt him, and I’m the catalyst. You can go home if you want, or maybe go see Adam. I’m sure you two can take this opportunity to have some fun today.”

  “Are you sure? I’m more than willing to stay and help you figure this out.”

  I pull her into a hug and release her quickly, so she doesn’t absorb my stench. “You’re a good friend, but I need to figure this out on my own. I’ll call you if I need anything. And if you hear anything I should know . . .”

  “I’ll call you.”

  Rita gathers her things and brings me my phone. “It’s all charged and waiting for you.”

  “Thanks, and thanks for staying with me and believing me.”

  “Anytime, and Bex, I know emotions can get high, but try to remember that two people can see the same situation and come away with different interpretations, yet both still be correct. You may not feel like you did anything wrong, but Tristan still saw what he did, and his emotions about the situation are still valid.”

  “I’ll try.” I close the door behind her and check my phone. There’s one missed call from Tristan and some texts from Adam. I can tell from his messages, last night was difficult for them both.

  I take a deep breath and try to call Tristan. His phone goes straight to voicemail, and on the third attempt, I leave him a message. “Tristan, it’s me. Please call me back. I’m so sorry about last night, but I promise you, it’s not at all what you thought. I understand that you’re angry and hurt, but please let me explain.”

  More than anything, I want to tell him I love him, but not now. Those words between us should be special—not something said to try to bridge the gap between us. He deserves better than that. We both do.

  After I’ve showered and dressed, I call Adam as I gather my things.

  “Bexley,” he answers as per his usual fashion.

  “Adam, please tell me where he is. I have to fix this.”

  “You know I can’t do that, babe.”

  I sigh as I lock the door behind me. “Have you at least talked to him today?”

  “No, his phone goes straight to voicemail. He was pretty wasted and upset last night; he’s probably sleeping it off.”

  My heart leaps slightly. “Was he wasted before he saw me? Is there any chance he’ll realize he’s overreacting?”

  “Hang on a second.” The sound of a door closing meets my ears as I climb into my car. “Tristan had barely cracked a beer when you came in. It wasn’t until he was ready to beat Finn to a pulp or storm out of the bar that I got him a flight of tequila shots.”

  “Oh, well, it’s okay. I’m going to make him understand.” My phone syncs to the Bluetooth as I turn my car on, and I’m able to put it down.

  “Rita told me your side of the story. It’s hard to believe based on what I saw last night, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re not a liar. You know Tristan can be stubborn, but he’ll come around eventually. After some time passes, I’ll help.”

  My heart thumps rapidly against my chest. “Time? How much time, Adam?” I’m losing my shit, and I need to calm down. As I grip the steering wheel, I count to ten.

  His answering tone sounds as defeated as I already feel. “I’m not sure, Bex. A few days, a few weeks maybe? I’ve never seen him so . . . crushed.”

  “Thanks, Adam. I’m going to try to find him, but I may be calling you back later. If he calls you, please tell him I’m sorry, and I want to make this right.”

  “Will do.”

  My car is practically on autopilot as I drive to Tristan’s office. His isn’t in the lot, but since he was drinking last night, it’s probably at home. I sit parked for a few minutes and try to come up with a game plan.

  I dig through my purse for my pass into his office. Once I have it firmly in my grasp, I steel my resolve and head inside the building. This building is like night and day, literally. The entire downstairs is a gamer’s dream. It’s basically three sections, one where there are desks, monitors, and computers, but the lighting is mostly done by the lamps on their desks.

  Then there is an open gaming section with couches, chairs, game chairs, bean bags—whatever makes these guys comfortable while they’re being creative.

  The third section is more like individual soundproof offices where people can work or play if they prefer more of a silent and solitary environment. This area is Tristan’s pride and joy. It’s where all the magic happens, and anyone who comes into his office has to walk through here. At the end of the hall, I take the stairs up to the second floor. When I reach the top, it takes my breath away, just like it does every time.

  Murals on every wall are filled with gamescapes—at least, that’s what I call them. They’re some of the most intricate scenes from Tristan’s games. They rotate from happy to sad, light to dark, freedom to dungeon, but each of them contains a piece of Tristan for everyone to see. The pride I feel when I come here is so immense I don’t even know how I keep it all inside.

  It’s brighter up here. The lights stay on, and this is where the executives work. The kitchen is always well stocked with snacks and drinks. Tristan wants all his staff members to be productive and happy, which is hard to do when you forget to eat or start feeling that afternoon sludge kick in. Most of the offerings are healthy, but he does have some treats too. Tristan loves his junk food as much as the next person.

  By the time I make it to Tristan’s office, it’s obvious he isn’t there. I’ve fielded quite a few people confused to see me here since he’s out for the rest of the week. I suppose I’m not surprised, but I am disappointed.

  I do take a moment to sit at his desk and leave him a note on the off chance he decides to pop in after hours. He keeps a photo of us next to his computer, and it brings a smile to my face. I’m trying hard not to let myself be sucked into the sadness. This is only a misunderstanding.

  When I arrive back at the apartment, sadness settles over me with Tristan’s abscence. I’d thought maybe he’d come home. I try calling him again, and once again, it goes straight to voicemail.

  “Tristan, I understand you’re hurting, but if you’d talk to me and let me explain I think it would go a long way toward fixing things. We’ve never fought before; can you believe that? Statistically, we were bound to have a fight eventually, but I hate feeling this way, and I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. Can we fix this and go another ten years without fighting again? Call me . . . please.”

  Before I know it, I’m back in his room and notice a Post-it on top of his notebook next to his bed. I didn’t see it this morning or last night, but I also wasn’t paying much attention. It has my name on it, so I open the notebook, not at all prepared for what’s inside.

  When I open the notebook, the lists he wanted me to keep from our dates make more sense because he’s been keeping them too. Normally, I wouldn’t read his thoughts without his permission, but he did put my name on the book for a reason.

  Dating Roulette – First date

  Bexley,

  Since I asked you to keep track of my screw-ups and my non-screw-ups, I figured I’d try and give you my take on our dates too. Fair is fair, after all.

  Tonight was our first date, but if you ask me, I think you got screwed. If I were going to take you on an actual first date, I probably would’ve taken you to Rudy’s for chocolate chip pancakes. No, it’s not the most romantic place in the world, but I know it’s your absolute favorite.
The thing is, when you came home drunk the other night and started talking to me in a way I never imagined I’d hear, it flipped a switch inside me.

  After I put you to bed, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. My dick was so hard, and I was conflicted. You’re my best friend and getting off to visions of you was wrong, but Bexley, let me tell you something else—I’ve never felt anything so right in all my life.

  As I stroked myself, I imagined it was you. Your name was on my lips when I came harder than I ever had before. Knowing I was going to ask to be part of your dating cycle had me just as excited as it did terrified. Never before have I allowed myself to envision a future for us, and suddenly, I can’t picture a future without you.

  That’s how we ended up at Just an Illusion instead of Rudy’s. There was so much I wanted to say to you, but I needed you to have a tiny bit of liquid courage so we could get through the discussion. For all your bravery with every other man in your life, you tend to hold back with me at times. It’s a good thing; it means you care about what I think and how I’ll respond. You let yourself be vulnerable with me, and I strive to never make you second-guess that choice.

  One thing I’m not sorry about is our kiss. If for some reason we don’t work out, that kiss will be the one I compare all other kisses to until the end of time. I’m hopeful what we needed was timing. Neither of us was ready before now for the tsunami of feelings headed our way. I’m ready now, Bex, and I hope you are too. There is no one I’d rather take the most exciting journey of my life with than you.

  First date recap: I’ve failed as far as giving you the memorable first date you deserve, but I’m hoping our first kiss knocks that failure down a few pegs. I can’t tell you how excited I am for the next six dates and how much I hope I get to be the first who obtains the coveted eighth date and every date beyond.

  Wow, having insight into Tristan’s heart and mind is a heady sensation. If the rest of these recaps give me as much hope as this one, I know the two of us will be fine.