Kiss Me, Stupid

by Gia Riley

  That seems to make her happy.

  “How’d you even find me? There’s gotta be a million Chandlers on Facebook. Surely, you didn’t stay up all night, sorting through every single one.”

  If my sister hadn’t helped me, that’s exactly what I’d have done. It would have taken me hours, if not days, and even then, I still might have missed her profile.

  “I can’t tell you how I found you. Let’s just say, someone at the airline hooked me up.”

  She lets go of my hand and sinks down into the couch. “You called the airline?”

  “Not exactly,” I tell her. “I know someone who works there. They were able to get me your last name. That’s all.”

  “That’s all? Really? Isn’t that illegal?”

  She’s trying to be angry, but I see the little smirk peeking through her fake annoyance. She’s glad I made that call to find her.

  “You’re not an easy girl to forget, Chandler.”

  “Neither are you,” she says as she stares at the exposed brick wall on the opposite side of the room.

  When I sit down beside her, Chandler curls into an even smaller ball. Something’s wrong.

  “What is it?” I ask her.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do. Just say it.”

  She rubs her hands on her jeans and takes a deep breath. “I’m glad I got to see you again, Wirth. I’m just a little sad that it’s over.”

  “Over?” As far as I’m concerned, we’re just getting started. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we live together now. Apparently, we work together, too. Anything more would be too much. I’m not saying we’d be a couple, but no relationship can survive being together twenty-four seven.”

  If she thinks I’m letting a job get in the way of me and her, she’s crazy.

  “What do you do anyway?”

  “I’m a dancer.”

  Of course she is. With a body like hers, I should have known.

  “I’m behind the scenes. You’ll be onstage, and I’ll be in the wings. We’ll barely breathe the same air.”

  “Don’t fight me on this, Wirth. I’m new here. I have a lot to prove, and I can’t be distracted by your sparkly blue eyes and that stupid-cute lopsided smile.”

  “Stupid-cute?”

  She stands up and looks down at me. I swear, it takes all I have not to pull her back down. I need those lips on mine again.

  “Yes, stupid-cute. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Wirth, I have to go smooth things over with my other roommate. Another reason this would never work.”

  Roommates. God, I fucking love the sound of that.

  I wasn’t excited to get back to New York, but now that I’m here, I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be. And hell if it isn’t going to be fun, wearing Chandler down.

  I give her a week, maybe two. By then, she’ll be begging me to kiss her.

  Chandler

  As I stand in front of Hollis’s door, my chest constricts. It’s day two and already, I’m exhausted. If I thought living with girls was challenging, I obviously didn’t consider this.

  When I got off the plane and climbed all those stairs to the apartment, the last thing I expected was to claim a bedroom sandwiched between two attractive guys. Two incredibly different guys who have stormed their way into my life.

  Hollis is all laughs and fun, the kind of person who makes you forget why you were stressed in the first place. And, if you’re still worried about something, he cracks jokes until you loosen up. He’s a sweetheart.

  And then there’s Wirth. All he has to do is look at me, and my heart races. My words get jumbled in my throat, and I have to remind myself to breathe. I’m a ball of nerves around him, yet there’s no other place I’d rather be than in his presence.

  It’s the craziest push and pull of emotions, but I need to figure out how to live with the both of them. I can’t afford for this to go bad. Rent in any NY apartment is too high on my own. And I can’t go back to Nashville just because I’m not tough enough to live with the opposite sex.

  Lightly tapping my knuckles on the wood, I wait, hoping Hollis will open the door.

  When he does, I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe he’s not as mad as I thought. But he isn’t saying anything, and Hollis usually has plenty to say. The boy can talk circles around most girls.

  “Are you okay?” I ask as he flops facedown in the middle of his bed.

  “Meh,” he mumbles into the pillows.

  I sit down beside him, unsure of the right thing to say. He knows I kissed Wirth on the plane, so it’s not like I can deny it. Wirth made sure to throw that little detail in the mix the second he had the chance.

  “Are you mad at me, Hollis?”

  “No.”

  “Are we still friends?”

  He raises his head and smirks. “If you think I’m giving up that easy, you’re crazy, Chandler. Wirth might have the voice of an angel and sing about all that swoony shit, but he’s got nothing on me. You’ll see.”

  Voice of an angel. I try not to laugh. It’s not easy, but I hold it in the best I can.

  “Hollis, what you did for me today was special. You didn’t have to give up your day off to show me around. You didn’t have to take me to a place with chicken and waffles and buy me brunch, yet you did. You’re full of swoony shit, too, you know.”

  “But I’m not him,” he says. “He got to you first, and you went and kissed him, so he wins.”

  “Don’t be like that. That’s not how it is.”

  “Isn’t it though?” he asks.

  He’s not completely wrong. I’ve never initiated a kiss in my life, yet I went for Wirth like my life depended on it.

  I can’t explain why we keep crossing paths either, but we do. And, now, here we are, living together. It’s like something out of a movie, and all I can do is hold on tight and let it play out.

  “It doesn’t matter, Hollis. I can’t be with Wirth even if I wanted to.”

  “You want to, Chandler. I saw it right away.”

  “I’m only looking for friends.”

  Rolling over, Hollis props himself up on an elbow. He narrows his eyes and searches my face. What he’s looking for, I’m not sure. But I’m not lying.

  Before I got here, I said I’d never date anyone I worked with. I can’t go back on that now. It’s too risky. Too reckless.

  “What am I missing, Chandler? You like the guy. He clearly likes you. Why not go for it?”

  “That doesn’t mean we’re meant to date though. There’s so much I need to learn at work before I can even think about a relationship. Dancing needs all of my time and attention.”

  Hollis laughs and lies back down. “Keep telling yourself that,” he says. “One of these times, maybe you’ll believe it.”

  “I do believe it. It’s my only rule.”

  “Rules are meant to be broken, Chandler. I’ve worked with Wirth for a couple of years. I’ve lived with him just as long. The guy doesn’t date often. He’s as dedicated to his work as you are. But the few times he brought a girl around—which I can count on one hand—he never looked at them the way he’s been gawking at you.”

  “What’s your point, Hollis? Why are you talking him up if you want to date me?”

  “My point is, you both have it bad. Yes, I want to date you. But I can’t deny what I saw either. So, stop fighting it. If anyone knows to live in the moment, it’s him, especially after his mom passed.”

  My stomach drops, and Hollis realizes he just unintentionally revealed a pretty big piece of Wirth.

  “Pretend you don’t know that,” he says. “Let him be the one to tell you.”

  “I won’t say anything.”

  That doesn’t mean he’ll tell me himself. We just met. He doesn’t owe me anything. But the fact that he lost his mom speaks volumes about the pain he’s hiding behind those eyes of his.

  I want to ask Hollis a million questions about her passing, but I know those are all things Wirth needs to
tell me on his own, when he’s ready.

  “Just consider dating a guy,” Hollis says, breaking the awkward tension. “Whoever it might be.”

  “Living together and dating would get messy. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Couples fight, Chandler. You’ll do it whether you’re sharing an apartment or not. Consider it a crash course in compatibility.”

  “And what if it goes bad?”

  “Then, at least you tried. Life will go on.”

  Will it though?

  I’ve never been in love. I’ve never lived a day of life after a breakup to know how long the pain lasts or just how powerful it is.

  But still, I know that seeing Wirth with someone else would bother the hell out of me. That’s why I can’t get involved. I don’t need distractions. I need to dance.

  “I’m good with just being friends with Wirth.”

  Hollis gives me a big smile. “So, you’re saying I have a chance?”

  Laughing, I shake my head. “Did you not hear anything I said? We live together, too.”

  “Threesome then?”

  I get up from the bed like the mattress is on fire, suddenly feeling like I need some air. “You’re crazy, Hollis. Take a cold shower or something.”

  “Give me some sugar before you go,” he says.

  I open the door and close it behind me.

  In the safety of the hallway, I fill my lungs with some much-needed oxygen.

  When I look up, Wirth’s leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom, watching me. The little bit of stability I’ve gained vanishes.

  “What?” I ask him.

  “Nothing,” he says.

  I slither into my bedroom, knowing his eyes are on my ass. When I glance over my shoulder, he winks, and I quickly close the door. I need to put some space between us.

  I’m not sure what’s happening or why my life feels so out of control. I need Hollis to go back to being my fun-loving friend and for Wirth to stop looking at me like he wants to devour me.

  Wirth

  Chandler stayed in her room the rest of the night. Around eight, Hollis took her some takeout he’d ordered, and through the wall, I heard them laughing their asses off as they shared another meal.

  Every giggle grated my nerves. Each over-the-top cackle from Hollis ate at me.

  We’ve never competed. Not at our jobs, in our friendship, or any other aspects of our lives. Certainly not over a chick. But I can’t deny the fact that he wants Chandler, too. It’s not like he’s tried to hide it, and I can’t expect him to. When someone like Chandler waltzes into your life, you pay attention.

  Maybe, if I knew what Chandler really thought of me, I wouldn’t be so jealous of Hollis. But, if she’s into the funny guy who can win over a crowd in two seconds, then I don’t have a shot.

  Hollis and I are nothing alike. I don’t put myself out there unless I’m onstage. Since those days are over, I might not have anything Chandler wants. From the sound of all that laughter last night, I’m guessing reserved and introspective aren’t at the top of her list.

  But I calmed her down on that plane. It wasn’t all the alcohol’s doing, so I know she’s capable of relaxing around me. Lately though, she’s been nothing but a ball of quiet nerves. I’m hoping that means she’s into me—as more than a friend. And that, ever since she had a taste, she’s been terrified.

  She thought we’d get off the plane, and that would be it. But I have plans. I’m taking that girl out on a proper date, just like I promised my sister. The only thing standing in my way now is Hollis. I have to figure out how to get him away from her.

  While I shower, I debate all the ways to make that happen. After I’m dried off, I’m not any closer to an answer.

  I glance at my cell, clearing the screen of the missed calls and texts. Shannon hasn’t given up. She thinks I’m still in Nashville, avoiding her. Little does she know, I’ve left that world behind.

  By now, I should have called her, especially her dad. But I don’t feel like rehashing anything that happened. If I wait Shannon out, she’ll get bored and move on. She’ll leave me alone and sink her nails into someone new. Maybe, once she’s distracted with the next victim, I’ll be able to have a levelheaded conversation with her even though I don’t want to.

  Once I’m dressed, I stop at Chandler’s room to make sure she’s awake, but her door is wide open, and the room’s empty. I find her in the kitchen, messing with the blender I didn’t know we had.

  She hums as she tosses green shit into it, and the melody sounds a lot like one of my songs. I’m not positive until she says a few words from the chorus. It’s a song I wrote. A song I poured myself into the day after my mom’s funeral.

  Most people think it’s just another love song—an emotional ballad about a guy who loses his girl. I wrote it that way on purpose, so nobody would ever make the connection into my personal life. Those verses are about me saying good-bye.

  The pulsing of the blender drowns out her voice, which isn’t half-bad, and she doesn’t realize I’m standing behind her until I whisper, “Good morning,” in her ear.

  Her ponytail tickles my nose, and her hair smells like a bouquet of flowers. She’s straight out of a shampoo commercial.

  Fumbling with the buttons, she turns off the blender and then takes a tentative step toward the fridge. With her head inside, she finally says, “Morning.”

  I give her a second to cool off while I admire the tight pants she’s wearing. They’re molded to her perky little ass, and I can’t help but groan.

  She quickly stands up, pulling her shirt down to cover as much of her body as possible. It’s a sin.

  If I had it my way, that shirt would be off, tossed onto the counter next to that green sludge she’s making. I’d peel the leggings down her legs and expose her porcelain skin. I’d make her my breakfast.

  “We could start slow, you know.”

  She closes her mouth and blinks. “What?” she questions.

  I reach for her waist, but she backs up until she’s against the counter. Her hair’s dangerously close to falling into the blender.

  “You might want to move a little to the left, Chandler.”

  She glances toward the hallway and says, “I’m not jumping into bed with you, Wirth.”

  I love her dirty mind. “I didn’t say anything about a bed.”

  “I know,” she mumbles, realizing her brain was in a completely different conversation.

  Taking a step closer, I place my hands on her shoulders and physically move her a foot away from the blender. “So you don’t have to rewash your hair,” I tell her.

  “Oh,” she says. “When you told me to move, I just assumed you were speaking code for something else.”

  “I said slow, Chandler. Like a real date. I know we had that kiss already, but we can backtrack. Slow things down and pretend this hasn’t been a whirlwind couple of days.”

  Her cheeks get the cutest shade of pink. I wasn’t trying to embarrass her, but I love how her mind automatically went to sex. Mine’s there, too—trust me—but Chandler deserves all the little things, a sensual build-up that’ll blow her mind.

  She takes a sip of her smoothie and shivers.

  “Is it as bad as it looks?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, why do you drink it if you don’t like it?”

  She shrugs and says, “Because it’s good for me.”

  “I’m good for you.”

  That earns me a little smile. “I have a long day of dancing, and this stuff gives me energy. That’s why I drink it.”

  “And what about the date? Where do you stand on that?”

  She chews on her lip, and that hesitation tells me all I need to know. She’s not going to say yes. Because, if she has to think about it, then she’s not ready.

  “I’ll let you walk me to work. Is that enough for you?”

  “For now,” I tell her.

  It’s a start. But I’ll definitely need more.

  Holli
s strolls into the kitchen, ruining the moment. He grabs Chandler’s extra sludge and chugs it. Gagging, he sets it down and looks at her. “What the fuck is that, woman?”

  “Breakfast.”

  He grabs the dish towel and rubs it across his tongue, trying to get rid of the taste. “It tastes like a bush.”

  Hollis is disgusting, but Chandler laughs, probably because she did the same thing on the plane with her sanitizer wipes after she almost licked the window. They’re more alike than I realized, and that bugs me, too.

  “Am I gonna get the shits?” Hollis questions with a serious face.

  Chandler’s shoulders shake as she packs up the rest of her things. She’s laughing so hard that, when she tries to sling her duffel bag over her shoulder, it bounces off the cabinet, almost knocking her off her feet.

  I grab it from her hand and hang on to it before she hurts herself. For such a tiny dancer, she has a lot of shit.

  “What are you doing, Wirth?”

  “I’m walking you to work, remember?”

  She lunges for the bag, but I keep it out of reach and then head toward the door.

  “I need ten minutes,” Hollis yells.

  But I’m not waiting for him. Not today. Today is all about me and Chandler. And he’s had more than his fair share of time with her.

  Chandler’s torn as she waits in the doorway.

  I see the indecision all over her face, but I push anyway. “Are you coming?” I ask her, praying she doesn’t blow me off for him again.

  Finally, she nods and closes the door, joining me on the stairs.

  “You don’t play fair,” she says.

  “Neither does he.”

  “It’s not a competition, Wirth. Hollis is my friend. The only one I have right now.”

  “Ouch.”

  The wind whips into our faces as soon as she opens the door. Pulling the scarf a little tighter around her neck, she says, “I’m sorry. I think you’re great, Wirth. We just haven’t talked as much.”

  “Because you’re always with him,” I point out.

  “Really? That’s how you want to play this?”

  “I’m not playing anything. You know what I want, Chandler.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, Hollis told me to go for it.”