Un-Dateable

by Alice Bello

  I stood over my answering machine and played the message three times. Did he sound like a man in love? Or did he just sound like a horny guy that needed to get laid?

  Ultimately it didn’t matter, because I was a horny woman who desperately needed to fuck her boyfriend.

  So I called him back. He answered on the second ring and sounded happy to hear from me. “I know we’ve been going at it every day this week; I just can’t get enough.”

  “It’s like you can read my mind.” A horny guy, most definitely.

  And as I hung up the phone I wondered how I felt about that?

  I’m such an asshole.

  ~*~

  I decided to try getting dolled up on my own. First I showered and towel dried my hair. Next I applied the powdery stuff that had so magically concealed my flaws before. It went on easier than I’d thought, the large brush whisking it over my face effortlessly. Next some mascara and eye shadow, then some lipstick — I didn’t dare try the eye liner... seemed like a poked out eye just waiting to happen.

  I looked at myself in the mirror and thought, not bad, not bad at all.

  Next came taming my curly hair. I took out the flat iron Mother had bought me at Macy’s. It didn’t look like an intimidating piece of machinery. On the contrary, the feel of it, light as a feather in my hand, filled me with a false feeling of competence. After all, Bess had been able to tame my locks in next to no time. I could certainly do it in... I looked to the digital clock by my bed.

  Thirty minutes until his expected arrival time.

  I’d have sleek straight hair and still have time enough to pick out one of the sexy dresses — and try on the heels that went with it.

  I plugged in the hair straightener, combed out my still wet hair, and then started the process of ironing it. Suddenly I realized it wasn’t working. It was warming up my hair but wasn’t flattening or drying a thing. About ten minutes into this my arms were exhausted and my hair smelled barbequed. All I had to show for it was limp yet still ruefully moist, curly hair.

  I gave up on the hair flattening and simply pulled a limp mass of it back from my face with a scrunchy. This made my face look bloated and the rest of my hair look like it was exposed to gamma radiation, frizzing out as it dried.

  Finally I tore the scrunchy out and used it to make my usual ponytail. At least I was used to the way this looked. And in truth, though I’d spent time trying to straighten it, it looked now as if I’d done not a damn thing to it.

  The dress, I told myself. Screw the hair, go pick out a dress.

  I surveyed the closet and found myself attracted most to the pink dress. I slipped into the matching underwear and bra, pulled the dress from its hanger and then slid it on, pulling the zipper up myself. I stepped into the two inch pink heels, turned toward the mirror and admired the effect the dress and makeup made on my appearance.

  And to think I did it all myself this time.

  I started to feel nervous, maybe downright paranoid.

  Most of me just wanted things to keep going as they had so far. Some great dates, even better sex. Just keep it fun.

  But there was this other part of me, the one that was appalled that I’d gotten turned on by the hot gay football player, that part of me wondered why the hell I wasn’t in love with Dean? And why the hell he wasn’t in love with me?

  There was a knocking at the door and I answered. Opening the door there stood Dean, tall and handsome as ever, his eyes turning dark and heated just by the sight of me.

  That part of me that just wanted good sex was reeling with excitement. But that pesky love part was searching those orbs of melted chocolate for something more. And as Dean entered my apartment and wordlessly pulled me to him, I saw nothing else... just lust. As he kissed me I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to turn that other part of me off. This worked until he broke off the kiss and pulled me gently by the hand to my bedroom. My mind started asking questions I didn’t want answered the entire thirty paces. But blessedly, once he pulled off my dress and undid my bra, taking my nipple into his mouth as his fingers dipped into my panties and fingered my pulsing clitoris, my mind went blank.

  And that’s how things went for the next two weeks. Every few nights we’d go out for dinner, followed by mind blowing, fun and sometimes kinky sex. Every other night Dean would just come over and we’d skip the dinner part and go straight for the hot sex part.

  And kinkiest of all, one time he came over and we just snuggled... didn’t even try to fuck me.

  Sick...

  ~*~

  Something strange happened over the next two weeks though... actually, it’s what didn’t happen. What didn’t happen was Gus returning to his shop. Every day I’d pass by the shop and looked through the window, and every day there stood Gina, compulsively clad in a tank top, every day looking just as immovable as before.

  Usually I’d whisk by and try not to let her see me. But once in a while she’d be staring out the front window as I passed by and she’d see me looking in on her. I’d stop, feel nervous and wave. Gina would nod her head tersely and that would be that.

  Luckily for me, Ozzie and Harriet were thriving. Somehow I was getting the watering thing down pat and I wasn’t forgetting. But the longer Gus stayed away from the shop the more I missed him. Secretly I was dying to set him up with my injured football player, who by the way was recovering nicely from his almost career ending thumb injury. I was sure he’d be completely healed in time to lead his team to victory.

  ~*~

  It was a Monday and I was late coming back from lunch. Dean had surprised me at work with a lunch invitation and a dozen roses. But the biggest surprise had been the look in his eyes. It was bordering on that love look.

  Now I could’ve been wrong. Maybe because we weren’t anywhere near a bed his lust had glazed over his eyes, making him just look lovelorn. I was still quaking in my cross trainers as I walked dazed through the doors to physical therapy. Nicole had put my roses in water for me, and had displayed them prominently at the reception area.

  That little part of me that had been so bummed out for the last two weeks was now jubilant. This made the rest of me rather miserable.

  What if he was in love with me? Would I suddenly just fall in love with him? Was I just waiting to know, for confirmation, before I felt something more than lust?

  That bigger part of me was thinking, What the hell?

  Listlessly, I picked up the next chart and headed over to the waiting room. I looked down and saw the name, saying it aloud as I tried to wrap my Dean steeped mind around it.

  “Gus Miller?”

  I looked around the room and saw a familiar, sinfully handsome face.

  Gus…

  He sat there in the waiting room, looking both gorgeous and pained.

  But the instant he saw me his pained looked turned to a curious little smile as he recognized me.

  “So this is what you do.”

  I couldn’t help but smile back. “You’ve found me out, my little secret.”

  And then the pained look returned to him as he struggled out of the chair he was folded in. As he stood—trying to stand straight—and then walked toward me, I saw his problem right away.

  “Wow,” I said as I led him slowly into the back and had him sit on one of our padded work tables. “Looks like you threw out your back and pulled a muscle in your hip ...” I watched as he gingerly sat himself down, reflexively shifting his weight off the offending hip. “I’d say a buttock muscle.”

  Gus gave a pained laugh. “Should’ve come to you instead of the three doctors I ended up going to.”

  “Funny how it doesn’t work that way, huh?”

  “Shit,” Gus muttered bitterly. “The first doctor was about twelve and thought I had a blood clot. The next said bursitis and gave me steroids and painkillers. Then my doctor just kept giving me more of those. Finally, I went to a bone doctor and he poked and prodded me until he told me none of them were right. He said exactly what you
said.”

  “And they’re the ones making the big bucks.” I looked down at his chart and saw a familiar name. “You went to Doctor Coulter?”

  “Yeah, the bone doctor. He was real nice... he’s the one sent me to you. Told me to ask for you by name.” He kept smiling bigger and bigger. “I just didn’t recognize the last name.”

  “Oh, yeah. Well, I’m glad he did.” I didn’t want to, but I suddenly had the need to confess my stalking problem to him. “I keep going past your shop, and there’s only your sister there. She’s not much for small talk. Wouldn’t even tell me you were injured.”

  “That’s my sis for you. She’s only a year older, but still feels like she needs to protect me.”

  “I just wanted to thank you again... for saving Ozzie and Harriet. I promise they’re doing fine now.”

  “Good ...” Gus got this look on his face, kind of like he was in pain again, but different, like he had something caught in his throat for a moment. “So how did things work out with that guy you were dating?”

  “So far, so good. You’ve met him already.”

  “Really, who?”

  “Doctor Coulter.”

  Gus looked crestfallen.

  Strange…

  He must’ve had a crush on my boyfriend.

  Then he brightened and wriggled his eyebrows. “So he recommended you because you’re dating, not because you’re good.”

  I poked Gus in the ribs and told him to lie down on his stomach. “Just remember I diagnosed you on sight, okay? No giving me shit about my boyfriend.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  Yep, he really did sound jealous. I was going to have to set up a meeting with him and the gay football player. Maybe in a couple weeks once I got Gus walking better.

  I pulled the privacy curtain and had him stand up. He hadn’t been sitting on the table long, but I could tell it hurt standing up. “Okay, now turn around. I’m going to check out your alignment.”

  Gus did as he was told.

  “Take your shirt off a minute.”

  Again he did as he was told. I shook my head at the sight of his strong, hard torso. He was really perfect for the football player. They could explore each other’s beautifully chiseled…

  I clamped down on the thought… I was not—NOT—going to have a man on man sexual fantasy. Having fantasies about one man at a time was enough.

  Really!

  I had him stand as straight as he could, then I told him to slowly bend over at the waist. He groaned as he did so, and I traced his hips and spine with my fingers. Nothing out of alignment there. I had him slowly stand up straight again, this time rounding his back as he ascended. I touched his vertebrae and saw nothing wrong there either.

  “Looks like you probably just wrenched your back. A muscular thing, which is good.”

  I had him bend again, but this time I pulled down the back of his sweat pants, looking for any deformities of the musculature as he moved. Nothing deformed, but I could see how much tenser his left buttocks was compared to his right.

  “Lie down on the table on your stomach. Let’s see exactly which muscles are causing this.”

  Gus was obedient, crawling onto the table, groaning softly as he stretched out on the table. I pulled down his pants a little more and started pushing in on the muscles of his butt. The top muscles elicited no response, but about halfway down the medius region Gus groaned loudly.

  “That hurt?”

  “Nah, I’m just ticklish.”

  I dug my fingers into the muscle furthest into his backside and his entire body jerked in pain.

  “Okay, okay... it hurts like hell!”

  I smiled. The muscle was balled up stiff, but it was nothing that I couldn’t fix with a few weeks of therapy.

  “Okay, Gus, We’re going to do a few simple exercises, and then I’ll apply some heat and electrodes, and then Vince the massage therapist will rub the problem area.”

  “Electrodes?” He was sitting up, that pained look on his face again.

  “It’s very low voltage, makes kind of a tingling sensation, but what it really does is help the muscles heal faster.

  “Great, hook me up.”

  “Not yet. We’ve got some exercises to do first.”

  “That’s funny. I come in here barely able to walk and you’re going to make me do exercise.”

  “Lie down on your back, smart guy.”

  He smiled, though it was clearly painful for him to do this.

  “First we’ll work on your abdominals,” I said, but what I was thinking was he really didn’t need to work on them at all. But professionally I knew he did.

  I put my hands on his hipbones and pressed in, telling him to clench his belly. There they were, the muscle group that holds the hips and spine in place. I had him flex again, but this time I had him put his hands on his hips bones instead.

  “Now do that twenty times, real slow,” I instructed.

  Next I had him stretching out the side muscles on each hip, and he said he could feel the difference between the two legs. He admitted one was weaker and tight as hell.

  After that we did more stretches and some leg lifts.

  “That’s enough for today.” I pulled the privacy curtain again and told him to roll over on his belly again I went and grabbed some electrode pads and a heat pack

  When I got back he was on his belly.

  “Well, I’m going to pull your pants down enough that I can apply the electrodes and the heat pack.”

  Gus flinched a little as I pulled down the back of his sweats, and he twitched again as I applied the pads. “Ticklish?”

  “Some... maybe.”

  Once the electrodes were applied and hooked up to the machine I turned it on and slowly raised the voltage until he said he could feel it tingling.

  “It’ll feel like little fingers pushing in on the muscles. If it gets too much, just hit this bell.” I put a bellhop bell next to the table, and then I set the timer for ten minutes. Then I covered his rump with the heat pads.

  The groan Gus gave this time wasn’t of misery or pain, but relief.

  “Told you I know what I’m doing.”

  When the timer went off I returned and took off the heat pad, and then peeled off the sticky electrodes. “This might hurt.”

  But he didn’t flinch or anything. His bottom was smooth and hairless.

  I had Vince with me and I told Gus that Vince was going to manipulate the affected areas. “You’re in good hands.”

  Vince always grimaced when I used this pun, but I still couldn’t resist. A few moments after I left the curtained area I heard Gus yelp and groan and curse. Yep, Vince had found the spot.

  When Vince was done Gus wobbled out of the curtained area and toward the reception area. He looked tired, but his gait was already longer and he was standing looser and straighter.

  “You have therapy ordered three times a week for a month. I personally don’t think it will take quite that long to get you working again, but three times a week sounds like the best bet.”

  Gus shrugged, a dazed look on his face. Often patients were so relaxed after the heat and electrodes, and the massage, that they were on cloud nine when they left.

  “Feel free to soak in a hot tub tonight. You may be a little sore in the morning.”

  “Worse than I already am?” he said, his smile a killer.

  “Smart ass.”

  Chapter 19

  The next night I wore the green dress — Dean took me to the opera. Now, I’d never gone, so I didn’t know whether I’d like it or not. I enjoyed the milling around of the well dressed people, I enjoyed the orchestra as it struck a fanfare. But as the short, middle aged men and women waddled out on stage, all playing far younger roles than their ages could comfortably allow, and after they started howling at the top of their lungs, I realized I despised opera.

  Dean, as usual, picked up on my discomfort with the singing and let me off the hook. “Boy, these guys blow. Wanna get outta here
?”

  It was just in time before my headache stiffened into a migraine. Instead, we walked down the streets of New York for a little while. The night had turned uncommonly cool for the middle of summer, and Dean took off his blazer and draped it around my shoulders.

  We stopped in an all night diner and ordered a slice of apple pie a la mode and pecan pie with whipped cream. We set the pie in the middle of the table and shared, talking about the new pinning procedure that was making the rounds in surgery. Then we got on the subject of my work and his last referral to me.

  “I knew that last patient of yours you sent me.”

  “Really, which one?”

  “How many have you sent me?” I scowled.

  “Seven... eight, tops.”

  “And I was wondering why I was so popular.” I smiled and stole the last bit of pecan pie. “Well, his name’s Gus and he owns a botanical shop down the street from my apartment.”

  “Tall, blond guy with back and hip problems?”

  “Yep, that’s the one. He saved Ozzie and Harriet’s lives last week... and the week before that.”

  “And who are Ozzie and Harriet?”

  I just sat there shocked. Had I really never introduced him to my roommates, or had he just not been listening? “They’re the spider plant and violet that hang in my window.”

  Dean crunched on the last bite of apple pie, his eyes scanning the ceiling of the greasy spoon for any memory of my potted plants. “Nope, sorry. I don’t even remember there being plants in your windows.” He wriggled his eyebrows and shot me one of his red hot sexy smiles. “But then again, I’m usually obsessed with getting you in the bed.”

  When we got back to my place Dean started kissing me before the front door even closed. But I pulled his lips off me long enough to pull him over to the window and I introduced him to Ozzie and Harriet.

  “Uh... nice plants.”

  I shook my head at the word “nice.” They were better than nice; they were fabulous. They were the physical proof that I was capable of nurturing a relationship... or at least a pet by Alcoholics Anonymous standards.