by Staci Hart
I thought of Maggie, about how addicted I was to her. Two more weeks. The clocked ticked down, and all I could do was watch.
Patrick took a long pull of his drink and set it down. “I know the feeling.”
We always tried to come on days we knew Rose wasn’t there so he could speak freely — and so he’d pay attention. When Rose was around, he didn’t always function at capacity.
They’d had a hot and heavy relationship, once they got together. Then Patrick flipped out. He’d been through enough in his life to know what it meant to be hurt, and when he realized how he really felt about Rose, he bailed. And then he blew the bridge up behind him. He’d never forgiven himself for it, either.
West shook his head. “Just talk to her, Trick.”
He scratched his tattooed neck. “You know that doesn’t do any good, man. She’s done with me. I’ve got to find a way to let it go. I just don’t know how.”
West leaned on the bar. “Have you thought about, I don’t know, avoiding her?”
His eyes were on his tattooed fingers as he spun his glass around. “I’d never leave the house. She’s everywhere.”
West nodded and turned to me. “Tell us some stories, Coop. There’s comfort in that you’re still out in the world, unaffected by matters of the heart while Tricky and I swoon and pine.”
I shrugged, scrambling to think of a way out of the conversation. “Not much to report.”
Both of them raised an eyebrow at me.
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“What’s going on with Astrid?” West asked.
“The usual.”
Patrick eyed me. “And you don’t have any girls on the side?”
I took a drink, wishing I could tell them about Maggie, wishing she were a stranger to them.
“Ha.” West looked at Patrick. “He does, but the question is, why doesn’t he want to tell us?”
Patrick smirked. “Interesting.”
“It’s nothing. Just a fling.”
West shifted to look at me full on. “Hang on, a fling? As in one?”
“It’s not a big deal.”
Patrick laughed. “Well, don’t hold out. Who is she? A supermodel? Fuck, if they don’t have the longest legs.”
West nodded his respect.
“She’s just a chick I know. It’s just a hook up.” All part of the rules.
“So, what’s her deal? What’s the draw?” West asked.
The list was long, but I rolled through it looking for points I could share that would be juicy enough get them off my back. “Well, she hasn’t been with a lot of guys, so I’ve been educating her.”
Patrick laughed. “Showing her the ropes.”
“The ins and outs,” West added with a snicker.
I laughed, mostly because he was snickering about his sister. “There’s something about it that’s like a drug. To just own her like that, to show her something she’s never experienced. I never get sick of that look on her face. Like I blew her mind.”
“Years of practice paying off,” West said.
“What can I say. I’m a man of many talents.”
Patrick shook his head. “I wish I could … I don’t know. Give a fuck about another girl. I mean, I’m surrounded by hot chicks every day. Chicks I could take home with a word. Like Ronnie.”
West and I made appreciative noises. Ronnie was a tattoo artist at Tonic, where Patrick worked — a smoking hot, cat-eyed, raven-haired badass, covered in tattoos, with piercings that were somehow light and feminine, gauges, lip ring. She even had her septum pierced, which I usually hated. But she wore it well. And she wanted a piece of Patrick, bad.
His mistake was … well, he’d made a lot of mistakes. After he dumped Rose like an idiot, he brought Ronnie to Habits in a display of next-level dumbfuckery. I don’t know what he’d been thinking. But it was the final blow for Rose, and Ronnie hadn’t ever given him up.
Patrick took a drink and continued. “I just can’t, you know? It’s like once I had a taste, nothing else will satisfy my thirst. I’ve been thirsty for six months, and I still can’t think about being with anyone else. It’s fucked up.”
West picked up his drink. “Maybe one day you just meet a girl with a magical ass. Like she has some sorcery about her that renders every other ass null and void.”
Patrick laughed. “Voodoo Pussy. No other pussy will do. It’ll haunt you until you die.”
West snorted. “Bewitching Box.”
“Hexing Hole.” I took a drink, and we all snickered like junior high kids. “Do you think there’s a man-version of that? Like Incredicock.”
“Witching Wang.” Patrick shot.
“Jackhammer Juju.” West added.
“Hypnodick. Dicknotize her with it,” I said.
We laughed hard enough that Shelby shook her head at us from down the bar, smiling.
The idea made so much sense to me. “So instead of soul mates, you’re fuck mates.” I nodded and took a drink. “I can get behind this theory.”
West smiled. “If Lily was the only woman I slept with for the rest of my life, I could die happy.”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I hear about it. Like, every fucking night.”
I shook my head at him. “You’ve got to get earplugs or something, Trick.”
“Trust me, I’ve tried, but they bug me, or they fall out. Can’t listen to music because I’ll actually listen to it. And I keep getting these white noise machines, but I can’t get one to work for more than twenty-four hours.”
West made a face. “Weird, man. Maybe we should call an electrician.”
“Whatever. It would just be nice if you could keep that shit between nine a.m. and eleven at night.”
West shrugged. “Can’t say I’m sorry.”
Patrick sighed.
“It’s so weird, you know? Being with Lily. All these years she’s been such a big part of my life, and I had no idea what I was missing. Everything came together, and now it all makes sense. I hope I never stop feeling like I do. Like I know exactly what I’m doing and what I need. Like my life is completely full because of her.” He emptied his drink and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get all sentimental. It’s just that I’ve never felt like this. Like I can’t see outside of what I’m experiencing because it’s so overwhelmingly good.”
Patrick and I shared a look, nodding as Shelby came around to get us another round, and our conversation turned to lighter topics, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Patrick knew the feeling West described all too well, though he was even more familiar with the loss of it. And me? I realized distantly that I had an idea of what he meant myself.
7
POSITIONS
Maggie
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, I TROTTED up the stairs with a smile that wouldn’t be stopped and blew through the front door of our apartment to find Rose at the table eating a bagel in her pajamas.
She lit up when she saw me. “How did it go?” she asked hopefully.
I closed the door behind me. “I got the job!” I sang.
She threw her hands up and wiggled her fingers, smiling. “Oh, my God! Congrats, Maggie! Details.”
I sat next to her and leaned on the table. “I was so excited — that job was at the top of my list, so I was super nervous. But the second the interview started, I was fine. The more we talked, the better I felt about it. Such a great fit. And they need someone to start immediately. She offered me the job on the spot, can you believe it? I start tomorrow!” I was so giddy, I almost felt like I was high.
“This is so amazing.”
“I know!” I gushed. “I feel like I could run around doing the Flashdance right now.” I let out a sigh. “I’m also really happy to actually have something productive to do. It’s been a minute. Like, since the wedding.”
Rose nodded as she took a bite. “It’s gonna be great, Maggie. I bet you’re so good with kids. Not like me. I make babies cry.”
I laughed. “No, you
don’t.”
“I totally do. Kids hate me. I think I’m scary and awkward with kids, like I expect them to burst into tears or explode or something. You, on the other hand, look like an adorable Disney character.”
I shook my head and chuckled. “I’ll believe babies are scared of you when I see it.”
“You’ll laugh at me when you see it, but that’s all right too.” She set down her breakfast and wiped her fingers on her napkin. “So you start tomorrow? That’s so soon.”
“I’ve got to start working on my lesson plans tonight, and tomorrow I’m getting a tour of the facility and working with the director on my lesson plans. Plus, it’s not like I have anything else to do.”
“Only Mr. M.” She waggled her brows and picked up her coffee.
I laughed. “Yes, only him. But I’ll still have plenty of time for him to tickle my fancy, even with a job.”
Rose smiled. “We should definitely celebrate tonight. We can get everyone together and go to Habits, yeah?”
“Do you work?”
“Nope, I’m off again.”
“You sure you want to go to work on your day off?”
She shrugged. “It’s my home away from home. Plus, I didn’t go in yesterday and had a pajama binge. My mascara’s calling me.”
My phone buzzed in my bag, and I reached into its depths, digging around before my fingers closed over it. I had a text from Mr. M.
How did it go?
I texted back, smiling. Nailed it. They offered me a position!
I knew they would. Can I offer you a position? You know, to celebrate.
My smile stretched wider. I will accept all celebratory positions. After Habits tonight — we’re going to have drinks if you want to come.
I always want to come.
I giggled, and Rose watched me with an eyebrow up. I guess I asked for that.
I’ll see you at Habits tonight. Wear those purple panties, the ones with the black lace. We’ll go to my place after.
I bit my lip. Anything you want.
I love the sound of that.
My cheeks were hot as I set my phone face down on the table.
Rose shook her head. “You’ve got it bad.”
My blush deepened. “It’s nothing. We’re just hooking up.”
“Mmhmm. Sure.”
My brow bent, and I crossed my arms. “I’m so tired of explaining this to everyone. It’s like none of you trust me to handle my own decisions. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?”
“I know. We’re just worried about you is all.”
“Well, I’m not blind.”
“Do you really think you can keep your feelings out of it?”
“I have been so far.”
“But you like him?” she prompted.
“I like him, and he rocks my ladybits.”
“And he likes you?”
“He seems to. Sometimes he just … I don’t know. He looks at me and I feel like he sees me. But Rose — he is seriously the worst idea ever. If you knew him, you would lose your shit and tell me I’m making a terrible mistake, and that’s exactly why I agree. Getting involved would be a mistake.”
“I mean, as long as you’ve got it under control.”
“Whatever that is.” I sighed and spun my phone around on the table absently. “Moving here was a clean start, all right. I can pretend nothing before I moved here ever happened. Like it was all a bad dream, or fiction. The story of a girl I used to know. Do you know what I mean?”
Rose’s eyes were bright and open. “I do. Do you think about Jimmy a lot?”
“I think I’m somewhere between hurt and denial. Like, sometimes I’ll see something or think of something I want to share with him before I remember what he did. The rest of the time, I just pretend like he doesn’t exist. I don’t quite know how to face it, and I wonder if I ever will.”
“Facing it is probably inevitable. Something will happen, and the pressure valve will blow. It happens to the best of us, especially those of us who avoid, and it’s never pretty.”
I nodded, trying to imagine what would happen and dreading it. “It’s gonna be bad, Rose.”
“Probably. But you’ve always got us.”
She smiled at me and picked up her bagel. I found comfort in knowing that it was true — Rose and Lily would be there if I fell apart. And I hung on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, enough time would pass that it would fade away into my past without enduring any more pain.
Cooper
Habits was packed for a Monday, and the drinks had been flowing for long enough that everyone was rosy-cheeked and laughing. Everyone had shuffled around to talk, leaving Maggie and me on the edge of the group, pretending to ignore each other.
Astrid hooked her arm in Maggie’s and smiled, bringing a joke home with a punchline that had the girls all laughing. Astrid had gone way out of her way to talk to Maggie all night, hanging near her. I’d caught them nearly whispering to each other, Maggie nodding, Astrid with her hand on Maggie’s arm, the two of them smiling. Between their truce and my cell phone purge, I hoped she wouldn’t worry so much anymore.
I just wanted her to believe me. The thought that she didn’t drove me crazy.
Something else that drove me crazy: the fact that almost every man in the bar was watching her.
There was one in particular, at a high table with his friends, almost directly in my line of sight. I watched him talk to his friends, the three of them eyeing the group, and I knew he was going to try to talk to her at some point. I caught his eye once and held it, hoping it was enough to keep him away. But I knew the chance was slim. There was no indicator that we were together — Maggie and I hadn’t touched, had barely looked at each other, even though she was all I could think about.
I’d been almost silent all night. Everyone else was too drunk to notice, thankfully. But Maggie knew, and she knew why. And I knew she felt the same.
I was ready to drag her out of the bar the first minute I saw her. Her dress was simple — short, soft peach and loose with small lace detailing. The thin straps left much of her back exposed, the creamy skin begging to be touched, low enough to know she wasn’t wearing a bra.
The knowledge didn’t help my efforts to keep my hands off of her.
Her admirer stood up, and my eyes narrowed as he wove around everyone with his eyes on Maggie. I took a long sip of scotch and leaned back against the bar with my jaw ticking.
He was about my height and build, with blond hair and tan skin. A decent looking guy, so naturally, I wanted to hit him. He stopped next to her, and I resisted the urge to step between them.
I couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, which somehow made it even more unbearable. When she laughed at something he said, I almost lost my shit. Astrid’s eyes laughed as they bounced between Maggie, the intruder and me. I broke my gaze to glance at West, whose jaw was set as he watched.
She touched his shoulder, and I slammed my drink. Everyone else in the group was still talking, Rose and Lily giggling about something, though Patrick was watching West.
The intruder smiled before walking away, and Astrid leaned in to whisper in Maggie’s ear. She laughed, her cheeks pink, eyes darting over to me. She nodded and whispered something back.
West seemed placated and turned back to Lily, and everyone was preoccupied again, talking amongst themselves. No one was watching us, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
Maggie pressed against me as someone squeezed behind her to get to the bar, and her fingers curled against my leg like she wanted any reason to touch me.
I turned my head like I was looking behind her. “Meet me in the bathroom. Don’t make me wait.”
I stood and set my glass on the bar behind me, hitching a thumb over my shoulder when West jerked his chin at me in question. He smiled and turned back to Lily, and I looked down at Maggie. The small curve of her lips said she’d be right behind me.
I weaved my way through the bar and into the men’s restroom
to scope it out with my pulse thumping. The stalls were empty, and there was just one guy at a urinal, so I washed my hands and walked out, leaned against the wall in the hallway and waited. He left, and another guy walked back.
I put up a hand. “You may not want to go in there. It’s flooded.”
He eyed me. “That bad?”
“It looks look like somebody threw lamb vindaloo all over the walls.”
He made a face.
“Yeah. You don’t want naan of that.”
“Thanks,” he said, not even laughing at my pun before turning and leaving again.
Maggie rounded the corner a second later, and I smiled and jerked my head as I pushed the door open, laying a hand on the small of her back as we ducked into the bathroom. I grabbed her hand and pulled into the far stall, pressing her against the tiled wall in a breath, not giving her a moment to speak, needing her lips — lips I’d been thinking about every minute since I’d walked into Habits. Lips I was always thinking about.
I picked her up, keeping her back against the wall as she wrapped her legs around my waist. My hands slipped up her bare thighs to her ass, fingers splayed against the purple panties I’d ask her to wear.
She smiled up at me. I leaned back, pinning her against the wall with my hips as I lifted the hem of her dress to get a good look.
My fingers trailed up her thigh. “What did he say to you?” I rolled my hips, pressing my length against her.
Her voice was ragged. “He wanted to buy me a drink.”
I cupped her cheek and ran my thumb across her bottom lip. “And what did you say?”
“I told him I wasn’t thirsty.”
“Good.” I took her mouth, my lips crashing against hers as I slipped my tongue into her mouth, demanding her attention as my mind cycled a single word, over and over.
Mine.
The bathroom door opened, and I broke away when I heard West and Patrick.
Maggie’s eyes were wide, swollen lips gaping. I laid a finger on them, mouthing Shh before laying kisses along her jaw and neck.