When It Hooks You

by Nicki Elson

  “They have sister wives?”

  “No. That’s lions. Tigers go from relationship to relationship and never commit.”

  “So you want to be a like a tiger?”

  “I am a tiger. After last night, I realize I’m totally, completely, utterly okay with never ever till-deathing with anyone. No, not just okay. I prefer it that way. I think Kurt saw that in me after I turned him down last year. He wasn’t able to shake his insecurity that I’d never be ready to commit to a life with him, and he was right.” She paused to take a long sip of her coffee, swallowing her new thoughts along with it. “I can’t change my stripes, so maybe it’s time I stop trying to be like everyone else.”

  “So…what then? You’re giving up men?”

  “Hell no. Tigers don’t give up having mates. They have a series of them.”

  “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”

  “I’ve been doing it wrong. I need to end the relationships sooner—before the guys can start to form any sort of long-term expectations.”

  A lion busted out a roar, its mighty voice reverberating off thick stone walls and marble floors. Kids shrieked with delight at the power that had just rocked the building. Everyone except Trish and Lyssa moved closer to the king of beasts, with phones and cameras poised in hopes of another outburst.

  Trish glanced at Lyssa, her mouth twisting into a knowing smirk. “See? He knows I’m right.”

  Lyssa shook her head. “How will you know when to cut the guys off? When they get a certain look in their eyes?”

  “Nah, it’s already too late at that point. It has to be before any real feelings can start to set in. What do you think—after the three date mark?”

  Lyssa squinted toward the panthers, seeming to seriously consider the idea. Trish knew her friend hadn’t gone on any actual dates with her current boyfriend before falling in love with him. They’d been business partners and had taken the scenic route toward a romantic entanglement. “I guess that’s about right,” Lyssa finally said. “If you get to the third date and that goes well, you pretty much start setting up expectations for the longer term. That’s assuming men think like women, of course.”

  “I want to curb my own expectations as well as theirs. So that settles it—no more fourth dates for me.”

  “Ever?”

  “Ever. This way I get to continue having a vibrant dating life without those pesky expectations getting in the way.”

  “But you don’t sleep with guys until the relationship turns serious.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “And you like sex.”

  “Yes, I do. Very much.”

  “And…” Lyssa pointed her index fingers at each other and spun them in opposite directions. “Are any dots connecting for you? Can ya see the problem here?”

  “Hey, I was supportive of you when you gave up men to indulge in your vibrator fetish.”

  “It wasn’t a fetish! And by the way, you were not supportive.”

  Trish wrinkled her nose. “I was playing devil’s advocate.”

  “Well, that’s what I’m doing now. But hey, you can work out the sex issue in whatever way you like. It’s just…make sure you think things through before you do anything you’ll regret.”

  “Yes, Sister Mary Theresa.” Trish stuck out her tongue, but sincerely appreciated her friend looking out for her. It wasn’t exactly easy to be guarded about who she let into her bed without being judged as some kind of social freak, and she appreciated that Lyssa understood. “Being a virgin again might be kinda fun, actually.”

  Lyssa let out a sarcastic chuff.

  “Seriously. Don’t you miss those days of pushing it as far as you could without going all the way? Hot, heaving breaths and him pressing against you, desperate and powerful all at once. Your naughty bits tingling until they’re positively aching for him to—”

  Lyssa nudged Trish with her shoulder. “Shush. There’s kids right there.”

  Trish nudged her back. “Well…don’t you miss the unresolved sexual tension now that you and Hayden have moved beyond the titillating ‘how far will this go’ stage?”

  “Not really.” Lyssa flushed an innocent shade of pink.

  Trish pursed her lips. “That’s because you live in separate states. Your sex time is limited. Very smart of you to keep it that way before it becomes mundane.” Trish didn’t miss the way her friend’s eyes flicked away. “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to make myself sign a contract. I’ll be free to change my mind at any point. Though I expect I’ll quite enjoy being revirginated.” She took another gulp of her now cool coffee as a toast to her new resolution.

  “I guess it doesn’t hurt to give it a shot,” Lyssa said.

  Trish leaned farther back and examined her friend, whose gaze wandered toward the animals though she didn’t seem to be truly looking at them. It wasn’t like Lyssa to fold so quickly during one of their philosophical squabbles.

  Lyssa’s eyes roved around the room for a few moments before she noticed Trish watching her. “What?”

  “You tell me,” Trish said. “I may not be good at knowing exactly what’s on someone’s mind, but I know when there’s something to spill. So spill it—or will I have to string you up by your toes and dangle you over the lion’s den to get it out of you?”

  Lyssa’s eyes narrowed. “You’re really creepy sometimes.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  Waving a dismissive hand, Lyssa said, “It can wait. It’s a longshot, anyway.”

  “What is?” Trish folded her arms and gave her friend a hard stare to let her know she was going to stay on her until she got that answer.

  “Fine. I got accepted to the Boston University MBA program.”

  “Congratulations!” Trish flailed her non-coffee-bearing arm and wrapped it around Lyssa’s shoulder. “So what’s the longshot, then?”

  “The financing.”

  “You’ll figure it out. You’re the finance major, after all. Hayden must be psycho excited that you’ll be moving out there.”

  “No, no! You can’t breathe a word about this to him. He doesn’t even know I applied. I seriously don’t know if I can afford this, and I don’t want him jumping in to try to figure it out for me. If I’m meant to do this, I have to do it on my own.”

  “Oh c’mon—you’ll at least shack up with him and let him cover the rent, won’t you?”

  Lyssa’s mouth broke into a grin that was halfway between shy and Cheshire. “I suppose so.”

  “Good girl. I mean bad girl.” Trish laughed and was surprised when Lyssa’s smile faded.

  “I think I should be offended right now. I hadn’t expected you to be so happy that I might be leaving the Windy City.”

  Pressing her lips together, Trish paused for a moment before saying, “Not gonna lie. This totally sucks for me. But you know I like to keep my glass half full—how else would I turn getting dumped by the love of my life into a new and improved dating plan? Under said new plan, it shouldn’t take me long to work my way through all the stallions in the Midwest—”

  “Especially when they find out you’re revirginated.”

  Trish flicked Lyssa’s arm and continued. “With you in Boston and me coming to visit, I can now add New England guys to my dating pool.”

  “Plus you’ve got the West Coast available to you via Amy.”

  “The whole friggin’ country.” Trish’s lips spread wide.

  “Red, white, and blue-balled.”

  Trish laughed. “Can we go get lunch now?”

  “You got it, tiger.”

  “Reow.”

  The last fibers holding Trish and Kurt together fit inside a Trader Joe’s bag. Throughout the week following their breakup, Trish had gathered his things from around her apartment and stuffed them into the bag: two pairs of underwear, a sweatshirt, an electric shaver, a small tub of pomade, half a dozen Blu-rays, a couple of books, and the cherry on top—a silver heart pendant from Tiffany & Co. He’d
given it to her for their one-year anniversary.

  She stood next to her big window and lifted the pendant, watching it twist and swing in lazy arcs. Its luster absorbed the paleness of the January sky. She tried to recall her exact sentiments when he’d slipped the chain around her neck. They’d been giddy on love and tangled in the glacier-white sheets of a premium suite at the Hotel Burnham.

  Trish truly believed their relationship had been destined to end at some point, but that didn’t mean Kurt hadn’t broken her heart. He could’ve ended things without lying to her for…weeks? Months? How long had he been seeing this other person behind her back? Did she even want to know? What she grieved more than anything was that he’d betrayed her trust. She’d certainly hurt him more than once, but she’d never been dishonest with him. Returning the cold, rigid Tiffany heart he’d given to her might help her take back the warm, pulsing heart she’d given to him.

  She lowered her hand toward the bag, but an unseen force stayed the tight grip of her fingers. While the pendant hovered, she considered that a rigid heart would be exactly what she needed to make her new short-term dating plan work. The hot and effusive ways she loved only gave men false hope. Perhaps, she thought, curling her fingers around the lustrous silver heart, I should keep this one artifact of my relationship with Kurt to remind myself of where I went wrong.

  Kurt texted that he was at the front door of her building. Tucking the necklace into the pocket of her purple flannel shirt, she considered grabbing the bag, shoving it into his hands, and sending him on his way, but they needed to talk. She went down the shared stairwell to let him in and invited him up for tea. Once they were back in her apartment, he handed over the makeup case she’d kept at his place. She set the Trader Joe’s bag by the door.

  “I have orange spice, peppermint, or English breakfast. Which would you like?” she asked, moving toward her tiny kitchen.

  “English breakfast. Thanks.”

  “I appreciate you coming here instead of making me drag the stuff over to you,” she called as she lit a fire under the tea kettle and set the teabags into mugs.

  “It’s the least I could do.”

  “Yeah, it kind of is.” While she waited for the water to heat, she walked back into the living room, where she found him seated at one of the two chairs by her bistro table. His coat was unzipped and he’d taken off his knit hat. She noticed a few fuzzballs caught in his buzz cut. Normally, she’d go over and pick them out, like a mama monkey. Instead, she folded her arms and leaned a shoulder against the wall.

  He looked directly at her, as he had so many times these last few years, but something was different. He was no longer the Kurt who’d stride in here and make himself comfortable, lounging on the couch while she apprised him of the minutia from her day. “I truly am sorry, Trish. I wish I would’ve handled things differently.”

  “Me, too,” she said. The teapot screeched, so she dashed over to pour the steaming water into the mugs. While the tea steeped, she brought the cups over and made another round trip for cream and sugar, though she knew Kurt would take none.

  “Do you mean you wish I would’ve handled things differently or that you would’ve?” he asked as she lowered onto the chair opposite him.

  “I meant you. Although I guess it applies to me, too. I got a little crazy.”

  He chuckled softly. “I’d expect nothing less.”

  Trish let out a small laugh, but they didn’t speak for several moments, busying themselves with dunking teabags and test-sipping their drinks. There were many questions Trish had thought she’d ask him about this other woman, but now those answers didn’t seem to matter. The only thing they’d accomplish would be to hurt her more.

  Kurt broke the silence. “I’ll let you guide where we go from here. I’d like to stay friends, but I can understand if that would be too hard for you.”

  Her eyes flicked up from her stained water. “I’m not sorry we broke up, Kurt. It took me by surprise, but I’ve had time to cool down and think about it. I’m pretty certain we never would’ve ended up together, anyway. Yanking off the Band-Aid was the best thing for both of us.”

  “You think our relationship was just a Band-Aid?”

  “Not all of it. But looking back, I can see that getting back together last year was a mistake. Neither of us was ready to be single again so we covered up our issues and fell back into what was comfortable.”

  He nodded, extracting the teabag from his mug with a spoon. “You’re probably right.”

  Trish’s head bobbed in time with his. She thought about how ridiculous they must look, like two bobbleheads at high tea, and let out a nervous laugh. He responded with an uncertain smile. She shrugged. “At least it was fun while it lasted.”

  His smile warmed to something more natural—and something more fitting for his strong, handsome features. Trish had a small twinge of regret when she considered how spectacular they’d have looked together on top of a wedding cake.

  “I’d really like to stay friends, Trish.”

  She scrunched her nose, slipping her bottom lip between her teeth. Despite his recent assholishness, she knew Kurt was a good guy, the kind of person she didn’t want to dismiss from her life altogether. “I don’t see us hanging out at the bars together or Snapchatting on a regular basis, but I think I can manage friendly acquaintances.”

  Chapter 3

  TRISH FLIPPED ROB ONTO HIS BACK, fully intending to cool things off, but when the impact of the floor brought forth a tiger-like growl from his throat, she re-plastered herself against him.

  The revirginated plan is stupid, she told herself. This was only her third date with Rob, so it wasn’t as if she’d sleep with him tonight even without her arbitrary rules, but how could she suck on those warm, delicious lips and run her hands over that firm, powerful chest without hoping to one day get herself some of that?

  His hot mouth moved across her face and down her neck. “Oh, baby,” he murmured between bites. “I could do this forever.”

  Forever. Not her favorite word. She knew he spoke in hyperbole, so she tried to keep her mind on the tender trail of his kisses…but she couldn’t—not until she’d straightened some things out. “Well, not forever,” she said. “A few months maybe, right?”

  The back of his head dropped to the floor while he looked at her from under a creased brow.

  “Don’t stop,” she whined. “I meant, you know, we only met a few weeks ago, so it’s ridiculous to think we’d be kissing each other forever.”

  “It’s just an expression.” His hand slipped out from under her shirt.

  “Right. I know.” She pecked at his lips. “Forget I said anything.” She pelted him again, but his magnificent mouth had gone rigid. His torso angled upward as he lifted onto his elbows, sending Trish sliding off him to the blanket they’d spread on his living room floor. He’d invited her over for a romantic, late-winter picnic.

  “Are you saying you know for a fact after only three dates that this definitely couldn’t last forever?” he asked.

  “I…well…I guess it’s a good thing this came up.” She moved to sit on bended legs while she straightened her shirt. “I’m in sort of a noncommittal phase right now. I’m not looking for forever with anybody.”

  “How long are you looking for?”

  “Uh. Three dates, actually.”

  “Are you for real?” He sat straight up. “You’re kicking me to the curb already? I thought we were having fun.”

  She leaned forward to rub her hands over his forearms. “We are having fun! The three dates thing is negotiable. I’m sort of making this up as I go. I’d definitely be up for going out with you a few more times.”

  “And then?”

  “I don’t want to think about the and then. That’s where things always go wrong for me. What I want to do is go out, have a good time, and end it before we ever get to the and then.”

  His expression stiffened into hard lines. “I’m thirty-two years old, Trish. I want a wi
fe and kids someday. I’m not saying I was thinking that far ahead already with us, but I’m not going to waste my time with someone who definitely knows she doesn’t want that.”

  “Nothing’s definite. But…”

  “You’re not looking for that right now.”

  Her mouth curved into a frown as she shook her head. Au revoir, sweet lips.

  The deep base vibrating out of the DJ’s speakers tickled Trish’s eardrums. It was early March, two weeks after her final date with Rob. Lyssa had sent an excited text earlier that day announcing that the final bit of financing for her higher education had come through. Trish had insisted they get together for a celebratory drink with JoAnne, another friend since college.

  JoAnne returned from the bar with three beers and a huge grin. “These are courtesy of those two guys back there.” She swished her straight, shoulder-length bob toward the bar as she passed drinks to her friends.

  “They’re cute.” Trish gave a small nod to the men and raised her beer in an across-the-room toast.

  “Yep,” JoAnne said. “I’m supposed to meet Craig and Streeter in Wrigleyville in an hour, so if the free-drink guys come over, they’re all yours.”

  “Both of ’em just for me?” Trish asked.

  “Lyssa can have one final fling in Chicago before entering into full-time monogamy in Boston.”

  “I’m already full-time monogamous,” Lyssa said.

  “Yeah, haven’t you noticed, JoJo?” Trish said. “Our girl is in louuurve. Done for.”

  “I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

  “It’s coming,” Trish said.

  “Like we’re going to trust your radar on that sort of thing.” JoAnne didn’t even seem to consider how her words might sting. She was more focused on adjusting her plus-sized breasts underneath a slightly-too-tight button-down blouse.

  Trish suspected she owed the cleavage that peeked between her friend’s buttons for the chilled glass in her hand. “I thought you were watching your carbs,” she said as JoAnne raised her glass to her mouth.