Pants On Fire

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Pants On Fire Page 6

by Lacey Black


  But that’s just stupid thinking, because it’s not like there’s anything there between us. I have no room for jealousy or any other weird emotion I may be feeling toward her or Danny. It’s time to let go of this sudden crush and move on.

  When our snacks are finished, the waitress returns to clear our food baskets and deliver a third round of drinks. It’s been a while since I’ve had more than two beers, but it’s so easy, so natural to talk to her that I find myself drinking a little more than normal. Though, three beers isn’t exactly going to cause me any problems. I just want to keep an eye on Cricket. I want her to cut loose, if that’s what she chooses.

  I glance to the side and notice the empty dart board. I stand up and make my pitch. “Crick, I’m not really ready for this night to end. How about you go secure us the dart board while I use the restroom. Then, I’ll come out here and pretend to let you kick my ass for a round or two before I really let you have it.”

  Her eyes brighten with mischief. “Let me have it, huh? You talk a big game for someone who hasn’t experienced my abilities in a while. Maybe I’ve been practicing. We can play partners.”

  I shrug. “I’m not sure you’re partner material.”

  She stands up and walks the few steps it takes to reach me. She’s directly in front of me, the top of her head barely hitting my chin. She looks up with mischief and a bit of defiance in her emerald eyes. Cricket places a hand on my chest, and I wonder if she can feel my heart thundering. It’s beating so loud, I’m certain everyone in the bar can hear it over the talking and music. If she can tell, she doesn’t say anything. Instead she says, “I might be the best you’ve ever had.”

  My mind instantly makes her statement dirty. I’ve never actually wondered what it would be like to have sex with Cricket before today, but that doesn’t stop my brain from conjuring up more dirty scenarios and playing them out on repeat. I swallow over the dryness in my throat and start toward the restroom. When her hand drops, I miss her touch immediately. It’s only when I’m a few feet away that I stop and say, “Time to put your money where your mouth is, Crick.”

  Chapter Five

  Cricket

  Time to put your money where your mouth is, Crick.

  I watch as he walks away, a shiver sweeping through my body at the deep, huskiness of his words. Sure, he didn’t mean them sexually, but that doesn’t stop my brain from going there. In fact, my mind is having a swell time picturing all the things Rueben would do to my willing body, if he had the chance.

  Wait, no. I’m sure if he had the chance, Rueben would still keep us comfortably tucked in the friend-zone. Why wouldn’t he? We’ve been safely locked there for more than a decade. But then I think about the subtle touches and lingering glances. He wasn’t immune to them either, and I saw the desire swirl in his dark brown eyes when I touched his chest. Maybe he’s thinking about me as more than a friend too. Or maybe he’s just flirty and has no interest in me that way.

  I groan aloud and put a dollar bill in the dart machine. This is stupid. It’s been way too long since my last boyfriend, and that’s the only reason I’m confusing friendship with sexual desire. I mean, it has been…a year and a half.

  Holy shit!

  I haven’t had sex in a year and a half?

  That’s exactly what’s wrong with me. It’s the only logical solution for sending mixed signals and seeing things that aren’t there. Lack of sex is clouding my brain and my judgment. I need to step back, keep my friendship with Rueben intact, and get through this weekend. Then, run straight home and find someone for a few rounds of bedroom Olympics.

  I bet Rueben is fantastic in bed with those big strong hands and long, muscular legs…

  I stop in my tracks.

  You know what they say about big hands…

  And big feet…

  “Shut up,” I tell my brain.

  Just as I spin around to find the throw line, I run smack into a hard chest. The scent around me is familiar, but not welcome. It’s definitely not Rueben’s subtle, woodsy scent, but one I had long forgotten about. One that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my stomach drop to my shoes.

  “Shut up? But I haven’t even said anything yet,” Danny responds, the familiar smirk spreading across his too-handsome face. God, I want to punch him.

  “And yet, here you are,” I retort with a bite, stepping out of the arms that seemed to wrap around me as we collided.

  Danny does a scan from head to toe, lingering a little too long on my chest. I cross my arms and narrow my eyes, feeling nothing like I felt when Rueben did it earlier tonight. Instead, I want to stab his eyes out with a rusty butter knife and then throw darts at them.

  “Good to see you, Cricket,” he finally says when his eyes return to my face.

  “I wish I could say the same to you,” I mumble, stepping around him and finding the worn throw line on the marred hardwood floor.

  “Come on, Cricket, it’s been ten years. Surely you’re not still pissed off, are you?” he asks, spinning around and following me.

  I throw the first dart, ignoring his looming presence beside me. “Actually, yes, yes I am still mad.” I throw the second dart. “You stole my car!” I state as I throw the third one with a little too much force and miss the board completely.

  Danny retrieves my three darts before I can, bringing them back to where I stand. “I paid you for your half,” he reminds me, cocking his head to the side as if it’s no big deal.

  “Six months after you left!” I thunder, feeling that familiar rage brewing inside me. Instead of punching him in the face—which is taking all the strength I have not to do—I focus straight ahead and throw the darts.

  I can feel his eyes on me as I throw and tuning him out is proving to be harder than I’d like.

  “You look good,” he says as he retrieves the second round of darts.

  “Fuck off.”

  Danny sighs and hands me the darts. He watches in silence as I throw the darts a third time. All of my throws are complete shit, probably because I can’t even concentrate on the round board in front of me. It takes all my energy not to turn and “accidentally” toss a dart or two at his head. But then I think about prison and how horrible I’d look in those orange jumpsuits and decide he’s not worth the energy or time. Plus, I’m not that great of a cook and I’d probably get stuck with kitchen detail.

  “What do you want?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder and wondering where in the hell Rueben is.

  “Saw you over here alone and thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

  “I’m not alone,” I argue, then wishing I would have kept my mouth shut.

  “No?” he asks, glancing around as if calling me on my bluff when he doesn’t see anyone remotely close that could constitute as my date. A knowing grin spreads across his face—one that tells me he thinks I’m lying.

  “No,” I insist. “He’s…in the restroom.”

  “Right,” Danny snorts. “It’s okay to be here alone, Cricket. I mean, I’m here alone too.” He takes a step closer and those pesky hairs at the nape of my neck stand at attention again. “Maybe it’s fate that we’re both alone tonight.”

  “Or maybe it’s because everyone who knows you knows what kind of an asshole you are and wants nothing to do with you.”

  He seems to straighten up at that. “And maybe it’s because you’re cranky and unforgiving and refuse to let the past go.”

  I practically growl at him. “Unforgiving? You’re kidding me, right?”

  “I’ve forgiven you for taking my job,” he states, crossing his arms over his chest.

  That makes me pause. “Excuse me? Taking your job?” What the hell is this guy talking about?

  “You don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re the bubbly new co-host of Good Morning, San Francisco?”

  I roll my eyes. “That was four years ago, jerk. That position hadn’t been yours in six years. In fact, you quit before you even started, remember?”

 
He doesn’t seem to have an answer to that. It’s almost like he’s just trying to grate on my nerves, which pisses me off that I’m actually responding at all. It’s like I’m letting him win. “All I’m saying is maybe if you were as bubbly in person as you are on-air, you’d have a date this weekend,” he says with a shrug.

  “I do have a date!”

  “Really? Where?” he asks, a growing smile on his fucking face as he glances around once more.

  Suddenly, I feel a presence behind me. It’s familiar and, unlike Danny, a welcome one. Before I can even think about a consequence or a repercussion, I practically jump up and throw my arms around Rueben’s neck, saying, “He’s right here.”

  Then I kiss him.

  Hard.

  Rueben’s arms wrap around me, drawing me against his body, and two things happen. My body ignites with desire, as if someone doused me with gasoline and lit a match, and the second is he deepens the kiss. His lips are firm, yet soft, as he plies my mouth open, his tongue delving inside and sliding against mine. It’s intoxicating and invigorating, and frankly, out of this fucking world. I have no idea how long we kiss, all I know is I’d be okay with it never ending. His lips are masterful, and frankly, I’ve never been kissed like this before. Ever.

  A throat clears behind me, a not-so-subtle reminder that we’re not alone. Rueben pulls his lips from mine, our mixed breath both a gasp and a pant. My eyes struggle to focus as I gaze at him, maybe really seeing him for the first time. He glances over my shoulder and stiffens. That’s when I recall exactly what drove me into my friend’s arms, and more precisely, onto his lips. Rueben lets me slide down his chest until my feet hit the floor, though they’re a little wobbly and struggle to hold my weight.

  “Rueben?” Danny says, his voice full of question and disbelief.

  I turn around to face my ex, sure that my own face will burst into flames at any second. The lie that I started continues easily, rolling off the tip of my tongue so effortlessly. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Forgot you were still here,” I say casually. I can feel Rueben’s presence directly behind me, but I ignore the pull that has me ready to turn back around and climb him like a tree.

  Danny looks from me to his old best friend just over my shoulder. “So…you…and…him…”

  “Yep! We’re dating,” I declare, hiding my cringe at springing this on Rueben and dragging him into the middle of my lie.

  My ex continues to look between the two of us, as if watching a tennis volley, and suddenly, busts up laughing. “Oh, come on,” clearly not buying the story.

  Before I can even declare my lie the truth and nothing but the truth, I feel Rueben’s hand slide against mine, our warm fingers entwine for the first time ever. He steps up, pressing his front to my back, and says, “It’s true. We’re dating.”

  The smile slowly falls from Danny’s face as he seems to take in our words. “Seriously? You two?”

  I nod frantically, unsure if I’ll be able to get words past my Sahara-dry tongue.

  “Wow,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t see that one coming. How long have you two been…dating?”

  “It’s a recent development,” I finally say, my lips still tingling from the Academy Award winning kiss.

  “Yeah, sorry I didn’t say anything earlier,” Rueben starts, his hand still firmly latched on to mine. “I didn’t want it to get awkward.” His uneasy chuckle is ironic.

  “No, I get it. I mean, it’s not every day your friend starts dating your girl,” Danny states.

  My spine straightens. “I am not your girl. Haven’t been in more than a decade.”

  He has the balls to roll his eyes. I want to punch them out of his head. “Semantics. Anyway, let’s celebrate! I’ll buy a round,” Danny boasts, flagging down a server.

  “No, that’s not necessary. I’m sure you have things to do, others to bother,” I argue, wishing he’d take the hint and leave us alone. Though, I can’t speak for Rueben, I’m definitely not interested in spending the next half hour—or any amount of time, for that matter—catching up with Danny Ohara.

  He flashes me the smile that used to melt my heart, and my panties. Now, I find it revolting and a bit nauseating. “I have no one else to bother but you. My plans for this evening was to find former classmates and catch up. I think I found exactly who I was supposed to run into.” Then, he turns to the server and orders three draft beers in an old brand we used to drink when we were twenty-one and had absolutely no extra spending cash.

  “So, tell me what you’ve both been up to?” Danny asks. “How do you make dating work if you’re in Tennessee and she’s in California?” he adds, glancing at his former roommate. If I’m not mistaken, there’s a hint of mischief in his eyes. Maybe trying to catch us in our lie?

  “Well, like we said, it’s a fairly new development,” Rueben replies, squeezing my hand. “We’re still working out the logistics, taking it day by day.” He shrugs his shoulders and reaches for his beer from earlier. I do the same, ignoring the fact that it’s getting warm and starting to taste like ass, and practically chug what’s left in the glass.

  Our new skunky, cheap beer arrives, and Danny insists on a toast. “To old friends, reconnecting. And to you two lovebirds finding each other after all this time.” He raises his glass, Rueben and I following suit, and we all clink our glasses together. The alcohol tastes vile sliding down my throat, but they don’t seem to notice.

  “How about I reset the board?” Danny asks, heading over to the dart board to insert a dollar.

  Quickly turning to my pseudo-boyfriend, I whisper, “I’m so sorry about this. It just came out.”

  Rueben shrugs and leans against the closest pub stool. “It’s fine.”

  Adamantly shaking my head, I reply, “No, it’s not fine. I’m going to tell him the truth.”

  “No, don’t do that.”

  I’m sure my eyes are wide with shock as I gape at him. With him leaning against the stool, we’re closer to the same height, and I can’t help but notice how close we’re actually standing. “I’m the reason we’re in this lie. I’ll tell him I made it up.” My heart hammers and drops into my gut. Danny’s going to have a field day with the latest development. I’m sure he’ll find it downright hilarious that I lied about having a boyfriend, but it’s not Rueben’s fault that I was too embarrassed to admit that I was here alone.

  “Don’t.” He brings my hand up to his lips and runs them across my knuckles. A shiver races through my blood, even though it’s warm in here.

  “We can fake a breakup,” I whisper, my throat hoarse and my breathing slightly labored.

  He shrugs. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Ready?” Danny asks behind me. When I glance around, he’s looking down to where Rueben is resting his left hand on my hip.

  “Ready!” I holler, a bit too loudly and practically race over the board to retrieve my darts.

  I end up playing Danny the first round, my mind not really on the game. Danny beats me easily, which never happened back when we were younger, and plays Rueben the second game. They chat easily, but to me, it still feels forced. I’m not sure if it’s from their lack of communication over the last several years or the fact that Rueben and I are caught in faux dating hell. I mean, not that dating him would be hell—it would probably be very, very nice—but it’s not real.

  Those touches? The way his eyes danced as he gazed at me?

  Not. Real.

  When they finish their game, I fake a yawn, because, apparently, I’m really good at faking things, and stretch my arms over my head. My shirt rises a bit, exposing my midsection, and there’s no missing the way Rueben’s eyes lock on that little sliver of skin. Inwardly, I grin and do a little happy jig as those dark brown orbs dilate even further. Since I’m already committed to my next fib, I say, “Well, I’m going to head back to the hotel. I’m beat.” I go ahead and throw in another big fat fake yawn to complete my sell.

  “I’ll walk you,” Rueben says, p
lacing the darts back in the bin.

  “No, you don’t have to do that. Stay and catch up with Danny,” I insist. Truthfully, I could use a little alone time in my hotel room. Maybe a bath in that small tub, a bottle of whatever liquor they’ve got stocked in the mini-fridge. A few moments alone to reflect on the mess I’ve made of our evening. Mostly, I could use a break from Rueben and the crazy excitement I feel inside at the prospect of actually being in a relationship with him.

  “I’ll walk you,” he insists with more authority. “Danny, it was good to visit again.”

  “I’ll head out too,” Danny replies, finishing off his cheap beer and throwing a few bills for a tip in the center of the table. “You two walk?”

  I nod, dreading the idea of walking back to the hotel, my ex in tow.

  But that’s what we end up doing, all three leaving the bar together, just like the good ol’ days. Except this time, it’s not Danny’s hand I’m holding as we make our way through the streets of Carbondale. It’s Rueben’s. I’m not sure if it’s to help sell our story or as a form of comfort, but I’ll take the latter.

  Danny chats about his job and life in Los Angeles. It turns out, he’s been to a few fundraising events in San Francisco and even spent a long weekend there a few months back. Thankfully though, we’ve never crossed paths.

  When we arrive at the hotel, another thought hits me. We make our way to the elevator, all three of us heading to the same floor. Would it be weird that Rueben and I are supposedly dating, yet staying in different hotel rooms? We did say it was early days, but Danny might find that odd and latch on to that piece of intel.

  As we step into the car, the awkwardness trailing us as thick as fog, Rueben must sense my uneasiness. He puts his arm around my shoulder, snuggling me into his side. I admit, it’s pretty fucking nice. Comfy, even. I’ve never been a big snuggler, but here I am, burrowing deeper into his embrace as if I can’t get close enough.

  When the car opens, we all exit. Rueben stops at his door, digging in his pocket for his keycard. I’m not sure what to do. Danny even hangs back, still blabbing about how great his life is and shares some story about being recognized at the airport. I take a step forward, prepared to head to my room and explain to Danny that we haven’t been dating long enough to warrant a shared room, when Rueben pulls on my hand, stopping me. He opens the door and steps back, allowing me to enter first.

 

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