The Science of Loving

by Candace Vianna

  I observed Mat quietly assessing me when I stopped for a red light while Steve and Les bickered behind us over the relative coolness of Kirk and Picard. He covered my hand resting on the gearshift and I wondered what had just crossed his mind to make his eyes darken.

  “Come on, Kirk always got the girl.” Steve insisted.

  “Yeah, ‘cause he was a man-whore.” Les snorted. “He’d do anyone, even that green chick.”

  “That green chick was hot.”

  “It’s a wonder his dick didn’t rot off from a raging case of intergalactic clap. Besides, Picard’s bald,” she sighed, looking over at Mat. I smiled, catching Steve’s eye roll when I looked over my shoulder as I backed into a spot along the curb.

  “Wait for me,” Mat murmured. I set the parking brake as he unfolded himself from the car and flipped the seat forward, then ushered me to the sidewalk like royalty. “Promise me you’ll never introduce Leslie to Danny. I don’t think the world as we know it would survive.”

  I must’ve had a bout of temporary insanity, but for some reason I just had to poke the bear. “What a great idea,” I said, pulling out my phone. “Let’s call her.”

  “Oh, hell no.” Laughing, Mat pinned me with one arm and wrestled my phone away, pocketing it smugly. “Apocalypse averted.” I glared at him, but he knew I wasn’t serious. “Just think how much fun you’ll have fishing it out later. I know I am.” I automatically glanced at the front of his pants, flushing bright red when the sparkle in his eyes said he’d caught me looking before he pushed through a door into a warmly lit room.

  On the right, an oak bar ran the length of the room. He led us deeper inside, and I huddled behind him peering at the long line of brightly colored, exotically shaped taps behind it. I noticed a goose head, a whale, a hawk—was that a pig—a canoe, an old style telephone, trout and woodpecker—

  “Hey Mat. I missed ya last night.” A curvy, heavily made-up, blond, leaned over the bar, her girls barely contained by the push-up bra peeking above of her straining white tee.

  “Yeah, I met this hot chick doing blowjobs at my sister’s and I just couldn’t pull out— I mean, tear myself away,” he said, giving me a heated look, and I glanced over my shoulder to find Les raising her eyebrows mouthing ‘Blowjobs?’

  “Oh shit, did I say that out loud?” He grinned at her, enjoying my discomfort. “Shelly, can we put a few tables together? There’s a group coming.”

  “No problem,” she said, making her way around the bar.

  “Naw, that’s all right,” Mat said, stalling her. “We got this.” He nodded Steve to the other side of a table, and together, they slid it against its neighbor while Les and I arranged the chairs.

  “Blowjobs? Do tell,” Les whispered, having way too much fun.

  “He’s referring to a cocktail.”

  “Uh huh, so were you the provider or the recipient of said cock-tail?” Les snickered, hitting the consonants a little harder than necessary before she sauntered around the table to sit across from me and gaze adoringly at Mat. Steve flopped down next to her with a disturbingly similar look on his face as Mat slid closer to me.

  Our knees touched and I felt warmth radiating from him. “They seem to know you here,” I jumped when a heavy hand unexpectedly landed in my lap, and slid under the hem just above my knees.

  “Yeah, since it’s walking distance from my loft, I come here a lot.” He curled his fingers around my leg, causing my dress to ride up further, and brushed lightly over my stockings with his thumb. “And my gym’s around the corner, so I’ll usually stop in after working out.”

  His hand inched even higher. Heat crept up my thigh along with his fingers as I shifted in my seat, making sure my legs stayed firmly closed. I dithered over what to do. Fear and anticipation making my heart race and my lady bits tingle. My inner skank on the other hand, just wanted him to stop messing around and get to the good stuff… I blamed Danny for waking the brainless slut.

  Angie just about flew out of her seat when I slipped my hand over her knee, but I just had to find out if her stockings were as smooth as they looked—nice—I nestled my hand between her knees, stroking the silky slickness with my thumb, watching her skin take on a lovely rosy glow.

  “—and my gym’s around the corner, so I usually stop in after a working out.” I continued my explanation, watching her become more and more flustered. Her breath caught, and she subtly pressed her thighs together when I adjusted my grip slightly upwards—oh sweetness, you really think that’s gonna stop me—I inched my hand up a little higher, just to see what she'd do. I was so focused on her, I didn't notice the others arrive until Bob pulled a chair out for her mother—motherfucker—then settle beside Angie. Recalling the almost predatory look he gave me at the party, I eased back, pulling Angie’s chair closer. Looking around the table, I realized, other than Angie’s three friends, Bob and her mom, the rest were all climbers.

  Shelly had just handed a menu to Stephanie as she made her way around the table—this should be interesting—to make it onto the Suds’ beer list, a brew had to not only be tasty, but also have an unusual name, earning extra points for vulgarity. I jerked when Shelly’s hand descended onto my shoulder, her fake tits getting in the way as she leaned over to lay my menu on the table. Shit, she needed to back the fuck off.

  My lips twitched. Angie’s eyes were on the menu, but I knew she wasn't reading it. I casually reached over and turned it right side up, watching her cheeks reddened even more. Then she started grinning. “Oh, my God, some of these names—”

  “What, you don’t want a ‘Pig’s Ass?’”

  “Was that the pig tap I saw behind the bar?”

  “Yeah, it’s an English porter. What kind of beer do you normally drink?”

  “My dad got me hooked on Guinness. It’s become part our New Year’s ritual. We start the day with an English breakfast. You know: Bangers and eggs, beans and toast, tomatoes on the side. And wash it all down with a nice dark Guinness.”

  “If you’ll you trust me to order for you sweetheart, I guarantee not to disappoint, but if I do, you can do rude things to my body as punishment.”

  I hoped that blush meant she was considering rude things while I listened as everyone ordered. Bob played it safe, ordering an ‘Arrogant Bastard.’ Stephanie ordered white wine, totally missing the point. Ben gleefully ordered a ‘Hoptimus Prime,’—geek—a grinning Steve wanted the ‘Vergina Red,’ an Australian beer, while most everyone else ordered mainstream ales they could get anywhere. I couldn't wait to hear Leslie’s choice.

  “I’ll have the ‘Laughing Dog Critch Sniffing Bastard,’” she announced loudly. “What? If there’s critch sniffing to be had, you better believe I’m getting mine.”

  I’m never playing poker with Bob. He didn’t even blink. A couple of the others tried to follow his lead, but couldn’t quite hide their smirks. Ben grinned outright, and I think a smile permanently resided on Steve’s face, the goof, but best of all was Angie’s giggle. I was laughing so hard, I might’ve been accused of crying if I weren’t so manly. And when I finally wound down enough to speak, I ordered myself the ‘Panty Peeler,’ and for the Angie, ‘The Old Engine Oil Black Ale’ and a Blowjob, then glanced up to find Stephanie trying to neuter me with her eyes before looking away annoyed after I returned her look, and raised her one eyebrow. I could play this game all day, and I was better at it.

  “Ooh, I want one too. Can I have a Blowjob?” Leslie looked at me and fluttered her eyelashes. I might’ve been scared if I wasn’t pretty sure she was fucking with me.

  “Red dresses and blowjobs darling? Is there something you’re not telling me?” What the hell! Why would Stephanie say something like that? It had to be more than losing that little pissing contest just now. Angie paled and the table went silent. Then she flushed, shocked tears gathering in her eyes. Even Bob seemed taken aback. Oh, hell no. There was no letting this go.

  “Stephanie, you’re a real piece of work, you know that? Is Angie ad
opted? Because frankly, I’m not feeling the love. And, although I’d really like to call you on all your poor behavior, that would hurt Angie, and that’s not something I’d do.” I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to. The tension was palpable as everyone looked from me to Stephanie, waiting. I stood and leaned forward with my hands flat on the table; watching her go pale as I got right in her face with murder in my eyes. “I. Want. You. Gone… Now.”

  I sat back down, waiting. Stephanie and I continued staring at each other while Shelly delivered our drinks and quickly left. Reddening, Stephanie took a sip of her wine then carefully set it back on the table and silently gathered up her handbag. Ben, Steve and I were the only men who remain seated when Bob helped her with her chair. He had a pained look on his face as she stalked from the room, the others fidgeting nervously, not knowing whether to stay or follow.

  “I’m so very sorry.” Angie apologized to the table and Bob’s expression hardened.

  He sat back down with a sigh and the others followed, picking up their drinks. “Think nothing of it. Mat’s right. She crossed the line.” With a rueful grin, he added. “And at the risk of a law suit, might I say, that red is definitely your color.”

  “Ladies.” I handed the girls their shots and Leslie swept away the last of the tension by channeling Meg Ryan’s Sleepless in Seattle performance, moaning loudly knocking back her shot with over-the-top lip smacking hilarity.

  “What?” she said, looking around the table. Did I mention I loved this chick?

  “I want to do that.” I growled then traced my tongue gently across the sugary residue left on Angie’s lips before nipping her gently. I was just considering going in for another bite when I felt something poke my arm.

  “Ow! Shit, you broke my finger.” Leslie accused with a wounded look, wiggling her fingers. “What do you have under that shirt, granite?”

  I grinned. “That’s right baby, carved and rock hard.”

  “And no brothers?” I shook my head taking a drink. “So what’s your sister like? She’s hot, right?” I choked and beer almost came out of my nose—my God, she’s like Danny’s geeky, evil twin—Angie’s eyes danced. Even Bob almost smiled. And there might have been a hint of awe or possibly fear on his face.

  “You know,” Leslie continued without missing a beat. “You don’t look like an architect.”

  “Architects have a look?” This should be good.

  She nodded seriously. “Yeah, like attorneys, only edgier.”

  “And by edgier, you mean?” I raised my eyebrows, fighting a smile, waiting for the punchline.

  “Slightly less metro-sexual, you know, unkempt? Poorly groomed?”

  “So not bathing is the new edgy?”

  “No, not bathing is gross. Sheesh.” She gave Angie a sympathetic is-he-always-this-slow eye-roll that made her smile before returning to me. “Cheap haircuts, messy cuticles, bad shoes—Edgier.”

  “So, I’m not edgy enough?” Well this was a first.

  “Oh you’re way edgy, you’ve got this dangerous bad boy, don’t mess with me or I’ll fuck you up edginess. If you were any edgier, we’d all be bleeding. It’s like architects are edgy-lite, while you’re like industrial strength concentrate eat a hole in my panties edgy.” She started fanning herself dramatically.

  Oookay. “Thanks?”

  Angie leaned in grinning, “No filter.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Les said, glancing at Angie and waving dismissively. That’s when I realized there was nothing wrong with Les's filter. It was just fine. Better than fine and I wondered how often her antics provided a much needed distraction.

  Although I didn't think he wanted to, Bob left as soon as he finished his beer with his posse right behind him—interesting, Stephanie might be the queen bee, but Bob was definitely the power behind the throne—Angie fidgeted under my arm, nodding towards the restroom and I stood, helping her with her chair. She rose unsteadily to her feet, shaking her head in response to the question in Leslie’s eyes.

  We watched until she disappeared across the room, then Ben slid over to Bob’s vacated seat with a grin. Steve, apparently unfazed by Leslie’s outrageous banter, studied the beer list. “I was considering the ‘Extra Special Bitter Bitch,’ but I think I’ve had enough of that for one night.”

  “Why don’t you try the ‘Blithering Idiot’?” Les quipped.

  “Naw, I want a ‘Happy Ending,’” he said, quietly looking at me. It was easy to forget underneath all that goofiness was a very sharp mind.

  Les wasn’t nearly as subtle. “Hurt her, and I’ll turn your testicles into maracas.” I nodded, giving them respect.

  Then suddenly, Steve’s grin was back. “I loved the way you took Stephanie down. I think you’re the first person to ever publicly stand up to her.” Ben nodded.

  Les stood, raising her glass. “Yeah, I think I speak for all of us when I say, thank you that was freaking awesome.” Steve and Ben scrambled to their feet, joining her.

  “Yeah, whatever.” Okay, Angie had some cool friends. Goofy as hell, but cool all the same.

  I took big gulping breaths, clenching my fists as hot tears stung my eyes. I wouldn’t cry. I was with a beautiful man, although he probably bolted the moment I was out of sight. Not that anyone would blame him after meeting my psycho mother. That, coupled with the fruit flies, was enough to drive away anyone with a lick of sense. Who in their right mind would want a second date after this debacle?

  Leaving the stall, I ran hot water over my frozen hands, willing them to stop shaking. And what was with that scene? Mom didn’t make scenes. Sure, she’d stab you in the back if you crossed her, but she’d have a smile for you in public while she did it. So why did she call me a whore in front of my boss and colleagues when she could take me apart privately? This had to be about more than a flashy dress—yes, it was red. So what. It was modest. Everything was covered. The skirt fell to my knees for Christ’s sake. Maybe it was a little tight, but was tight in all the right places and I looked fucking hot! Well, not so much now—my lipstick was gone, and my smudged mascara made the shadows beneath my dark eyes stand out like bruises. At least my hair still looked good.

  Mat smiled, rising to his feet—he’s still here. He didn’t ditch me—as our eyes met across the room. He held my chair, laying a couple light kisses on the side of my neck before retaking his seat, nestling me between his knees. He returned a hand to my knee, the other, gliding warmly over my panic chilled skin to collar my neck, tilting me into him. I had to grip the table to keep from toppling into his lap as he spoke, his words tickling the hairs at the nape of my neck. “I took the liberty of ordering you another beer, I hope you don’t mind.”

  I nodded, turning my head, expecting him to draw back. He didn't, and my nose scraped along his scratchy jaw, noting the lingering hint of his musky after-shave. He nuzzled back and whatever I was going to say was no longer important. My eyes fluttered open to catch Les watching us, her chin resting in her hands and a big grin on her face. When she began miming the vulgar namesake of our earlier shots, I started giggling as red-hot embers ignited in my cheeks. Mat squeezed my shoulder and leaned back looking for what’d set me off. Leslie stopped of course and stared back disingenuously. His eyes narrowed, but whatever he was going to say was lost when Shelly delivered another round.

  I looked at him questioningly as I tasted the rich black liquid in my glass. Mat’s mouth twitched. “It’s a ‘Happy Ending.’ No don’t thank me, thank Steve. I was going order you the ‘Old Leghumper Ale.’” Steve glanced up hearing his name and bumped fists with a delighted smile as he continued to listen to Ben’s opinion regarding the relative hotness of the new vs old aforementioned intergalactic green chicks.

  Whatever—the discussion was totally lost on me once Mat tipped back his beer, my eyes glued to the tendons and muscles flexing under his golden skin as his throat convulsed sinuously with each swallow. Maybe I moaned or something, because his eyes widened and he stopped drinking, his mout
h curving seductively as he deliberately lowered his gaze; his eyes darkening as I nervously moistened my lips.

  “I’d really like to know what was going through your mind just now,” he murmured. Naughty thoughts burned my cheeks. Oh, God. Could he tell?

  I hadn’t liked Angie’s pallor when she returned from the head, and I guess I wasn’t the only one because Les was doing something that had her blushing, but when I turned to look, she stopped doing whatever it was. Then Shelly arrived with the next round and the moment was lost.

  I watched her surreptitiously as I took a long pull from my beer. Her eyes were glued to my throat—that’s right, sweetheart, go ahead and look—her lips parted and her breath faltered. I smiled—yeah, sweetness, just like that—watching her skin bloom… Lovely. I lowered my glass, meeting passion-filled eyes—oh sweetheart, it’s dangerous looking at a man like that; it breeds all kinds of nasty thoughts—then her tongue darted over her lips—oh honey, you’re killing me.

  “I would really like to know what was going through your mind just now.” Desire deepened my voice and she went crimson, looking everywhere but at me. I hugged her tightly, peppering her neck with little kisses. I really couldn't resist teasing her a little more, so I asked in the most suggestive tone I could muster, “Tell me, sweetness, is your ‘Happy Ending’ as satisfying as it looks, or do you prefer something harder going down?”

  “God, I wish I had some popcorn,” Unlike Ben and Steve, Les didn’t try to pretend she wasn’t watching me put my moves on Angie; she just grinned and settled in to enjoy the show. “Carry on.”

  I grinned back, resting my chin on Angie’s shoulder and joined the guys’ debate. “The original green chic was way hotter.”

  “Ha! Even Mat thinks she’s hotter.” Ben gestured victoriously towards me with his beer.

  I returned his salute. “Besides the hottest all time Star Trek chick is Kanutu Nona. There’s just something about chicks with dark hair and big brown eyes.” I sighed nuzzling Angie, skating my hand up her arm. Yeah sweetheart; I’m talking to you.