Life's Too Short

by Abby Jimenez

  “I was just saying I’m glad you didn’t pull out all these stops on your date with Sloan or my wife might have married you instead of me.”

  I chuckled. “I never stood a chance. To this day, I have never had a woman run out of a date faster.”

  Jason laughed. His wife looked up at the sound, and he winked at her.

  “How long have you two been dating?” Jason asked.

  “We’re not,” I said, talking into my tumbler. “We’re just friends.”

  Josh snorted. “Are you sure?”

  “Vanessa’s not interested in dating,” I said.

  Josh laughed. “My wife told me the same thing once.” He nodded to the vestibule. “Hey, I think there’s some mistletoe hanging by the front door.” He bounced his eyebrows.

  I didn’t want Vanessa to kiss me just because we were standing under mistletoe. I didn’t want her to kiss me because it was midnight on New Year’s. I didn’t want a one-night stand or to be friends with benefits. I wanted all of her. I wanted it the right way.

  I wanted her to want me back.

  CHAPTER 18

  HOW TO LOSE A GUY BY MAKING THIS ONE BIG MISTAKE!

  VANESSA

  Adrian pulled into the garage under our apartment building. It was around 10:00 p.m. and I was still pretty buzzed. I lolled my head on the seat to look at him. “So what’d you guys talk about over by the bar?”

  He put the car in park. “Diaper cream, mostly. Jason and Sloan’s daughter has a rash.”

  I put my lip out in a pout. “I know, poor baby Emma.”

  He turned off the ignition. “What did you guys talk about?”

  I gave a shrug. “Your penis mostly.”

  He blanched. “What?”

  “Josh’s too,” I said defensively. “But mostly yours.”

  He looked amused. “And what exactly did any of you have to say about my penis? None of you have seen it.”

  I threw up my hands. “I know! It was a lot of conspiracy theories mostly.” I unbuckled myself and turned to him with my knees on the seat. “There’s a rumor that it’s huge. You don’t have to tell me—blink once if it’s true—but you don’t have to tell me.”

  He laughed and got out of the car. I watched him come around and open my door. I practically tumbled out.

  “All right, come on,” he said, gathering me to my feet. “Can you walk?”

  I shrugged. “If I trip, I’ll just turn it into a sexy dance.”

  He was grinning. “I’m keeping Grace for an extra few hours until you sober up. Can you hang on to me if I carry you?”

  I rubbed my nose. “Yup.”

  He turned around, and I jumped up onto his back.

  He carried me into the building and took the stairs. At a jog.

  Three flights up and he wasn’t even out of breath. I could only imagine the endurance this man would have in bed—seriously, I could only imagine it. I’d never been with someone with a body like his.

  I giggled as Adrian piggybacked me down the hall. “Hey, can we go to my apartment before we go to your place to get Grace? I wanna show you something.”

  “Sure.” He stopped at my door and dug for his keys while I hung off him like a monkey.

  I loved that he had a key to my apartment. Not just so he could come in and save me from the ceiling fan or do unannounced birthday cleanings, but because I loved that there were no closed doors between us. Not really. Not physically or otherwise. He knew everything there was to know about me. He knew about my shitty family—he even knew I was worried I might be sick. And here he was anyway.

  When he got the door open, he carried me to the sofa, turned, and set me down.

  “All right,” he said. “What do you want to show me?”

  “Sit,” I commanded, tugging at the pocket of his pants.

  He smiled and sat next to me, and I reached for the lamp to turn off the lights. A hundred glowing stars beamed down on us from the ceiling.

  “Wow,” he breathed.

  “I know, right?” I turned to him in the dark. “Did you ever have these growing up?”

  He laughed a little. “Yeah. I think they were still up there in my old room at my mom’s house right up until they sold it.”

  “Why do grown-ups stop doing things like this?” I asked, lolling my head to look back at the ceiling. “Why do we forget?”

  “It’s not very sophisticated. I think I’d have some explaining to do if I brought a woman home and this was the ceiling in my bedroom.”

  “Oh my God. I would love if a man brought me home and this was the ceiling in his bedroom. I’d be way more excited to have sex with him.”

  I could feel him look at me. “Really? You think these are available on Amazon Prime?”

  I giggled. “Just so you know, I’m not having sex with you just because I come over and you have glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling.”

  “Is there anything you will have sex with me for? I’d like to get started on it.”

  I laughed. Well, that was flirty. Not his usual MO. He never said stuff like this to me.

  He was kidding, of course.

  I wished he weren’t.

  He looked back to the stars. “If this view had a soundtrack, what do you think it would be?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, but I feel like there’d probably be a pretty epic saxophone solo. A little jazz break in the middle?”

  He laughed. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”

  I shrugged. “My inner monologue is like a hundred open tabs. You should hear the things I don’t say.” Then a mischievous smile crept across my face. “Adrian?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can I touch your six-pack?”

  He snorted. “What?”

  I turned on the light and blinked at him innocently. “I’m serious. I’ve never touched one before and yours is really nice. It’s sorta on my bucket list.”

  He laughed. “Sure?”

  I clapped excitedly and he lifted the bottom of his shirt and sat back into the sofa. I tucked my legs under me and bit my lip, looking down at his body.

  A trail of hair descended down into the top of his pants. I don’t know why, but this was even hotter than the abs.

  I held my breath as I started brushing my fingers over his stomach, tracing along the ridges of his muscles. Then I flattened my palm and ran it over his warm skin. I practically shuddered from the contact.

  I’d never been this attracted to someone. Ever. And it wasn’t just physical—it was everything. I loved his steadiness and confidence, his gentleness with Grace. He was generous and kind and protective of the people he cared about. He was intelligent and funny and loyal—and he made me want to do things to him.

  I wanted to plunge my hands into his pants, straddle his lap, and kiss him. Feel him go hard underneath me, let him take my clothes off. I could picture him pushing me onto my back on this sofa, sliding over me. I could almost feel the weight of him between my legs…

  The tip of my pinky finger slipped under the waist of his pants as I canvassed his skin and he cleared his throat. “Okay, we’re going to have to stop that here or we’re gonna have problems.” He sat up and tugged his shirt over his stomach.

  I swallowed hard, trying to play off how out of breath I was. “What kind of problems?”

  “You know what kind of problems.”

  I blushed, sitting back down next to him, feeling somewhat triumphant. I don’t think sober me would have had the wherewithal to look so pleased with herself for almost giving my neighbor a boner, but drunk me was thrilled.

  “Hey,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Thank you for tonight. You gave me the perfect day today. It was perfect. Jaxon Waters sang happy birthday to me. How did you know what I’d like?”

  He studied me quietly for a moment. “Because I know you. I know what’s important to you,” he said, holding my eyes. “Content for your channel so you can keep raising money for ALS research. Good food. Once-in-a-lifetime experi
ences.”

  I smiled at him gently.

  “I’m so lucky I know you,” I said quietly.

  He paused for a moment. “I feel the same way. Like my life was a stuffy room, and you’re the breeze that came in when the window opened.”

  We peered at each other…then he slid a warm hand over the one I had on the sofa between us. It zinged through me like lightning.

  He was touching me!

  Adrian almost never touched me—and when he did, it wasn’t like this.

  I dropped my eyes to our hands and when I looked back up, his gaze had moved to my lips.

  Oh my God…

  Oh my God, he wanted to kiss me!

  I immediately thought about how much he’d had to drink. Not a lot, right? Because I couldn’t even wrap my brain around the idea that he wanted me, in any way, unless there was something screwing with his decision making. But he did look like he was thinking about it.

  How much had I had to drink? Was I misreading this?

  My heart was pounding. His thumb started to move back and forth across the top of my hand like a reminder that it was there on purpose. I felt an invisible tug toward him, like there was a rope between us that both of us were pulling in.

  I stared at him for one more moment. Then I sat up, leaned in, and kissed him.

  Aaaand he didn’t kiss me back.

  I think I would have registered this much faster if I hadn’t been buzzed. Sober me would have realized it wasn’t going well. But since I was drunk, I let it go on about three seconds longer than I should have. Just pressing my lips to an unresponsive mouth.

  He pushed me gently off him. “Vanessa, no…”

  Instant humiliation washed over me. “I’m sorry I don’t know what—”

  He shook his head. “It’s—”

  I waved him off. “You know what? It’s fine. I wouldn’t kiss me either,” I said, getting up quickly.

  He stood and took a step toward me and put a hand out. “That’s not it—”

  I couldn’t even look at him. I was so embarrassed. What the hell was I thinking? “You should go. I’ll just see you tomorrow.”

  “Vanessa, I think we should talk about this—”

  I laughed dryly. “I really don’t want to. I made a mistake. I was just caught up in the moment and I’m drunk—it didn’t mean anything, honestly. I wish I didn’t do it. I’m sorry,” I said, looking him in the eye.

  Something flashed on his face.

  “Please,” I said. “Just have Becky bring Grace home. Thank you for today and let’s just forget about this.”

  “Vanessa—”

  “Adrian, go!”

  He waited a moment, just looking at me before he set his jaw, walked past me, and left. I closed the door behind him and slid down to the floor, instantly sober—and wishing I weren’t.

  CHAPTER 19

  10 THINGS GUARANTEED TO

  MAKE YOU SAY WTF

  ADRIAN

  My phone had been deafeningly silent since last night. Nothing from Vanessa. Becky and I had some work stuff to go over so we did that until midnight while I gave Vanessa some time to sober up. Then I had her drop off Grace since Vanessa clearly didn’t want to see me.

  It wouldn’t have been right for me to kiss her. I suspected she wasn’t sober enough to know what she was doing. She was too drunk to walk, for God’s sake.

  It didn’t mean anything. I wish I didn’t do it.

  Was she just upset? Or did she really feel that way?

  Maybe both.

  Maybe she was upset with me for rejecting her and she meant it. Maybe she was just drunk and did something spontaneous and the whole thing never meant anything at all.

  The thought that kissing me was just some foggy-headed, alcohol-induced mistake made me feel physically ill. And now I worried more than anything that instead of me fucking things up and changing our friendship by telling her how I felt, she’d accidentally done it by kissing me for no other reason than she’d had too much to drink.

  My stomach was in knots. I couldn’t sleep last night. I wanted to talk to her, but I didn’t even know what to say after what she’d said to me. In the morning before I left for the office, I texted her.

  Me: Can we talk later?

  She didn’t reply for almost ten minutes. This was eight years in Vanessa time. She always replied immediately. This wasn’t a good sign.

  Vanessa: I guess.

  Me: Do you still want me to watch Grace tonight?

  Another four-minute wait.

  Vanessa: You don’t have to.

  Me: I want to.

  Vanessa: K. Do you want me to get Harry?

  I thought this one over. She always watched him for me, but it would be weird if I saw her and we didn’t talk, and I didn’t have time to do it before work. I didn’t want to be rushed, especially considering what we needed to discuss.

  Me: I’ll take him to work.

  Vanessa: K

  That was it. She didn’t say anything else.

  Harry was crabbier than usual, like we were sharing our mood. He bit Becky three times by noon. Oddly enough he didn’t bite me, which made me feel like maybe we were on the same team for once. He slept in my lap while I worked at my desk and didn’t even growl at me when I moved him to get up to use the bathroom.

  Work dragged. I kept checking my phone to see if Vanessa had messaged me, which she didn’t. I left work early to knock on Vanessa’s door thirty minutes before she’d asked me to come so I could talk to her. I figured if she really regretted kissing me, the best I could hope for was for us to get over any weirdness and stay friends. But I guessed by her silence that the chances of that were probably low.

  I felt a gnawing anxiety at the uncertainty of it. A panic at the possibility that this was all over.

  I heard her chain rake across the lock, and I braced myself for our first encounter since last night. But when the door opened, it wasn’t Vanessa who answered it. It was…some guy?

  He stood in the doorway holding Grace. He was shorter than me but muscular. Shaggy blond hair, tan skin. He was wearing a clunky faux fur jacket that came to his knees. It was open and he had no shirt on. A shark-tooth necklace hung around his neck.

  “Hey,” he said. “You must be the babysitter. Come in.” He spoke over his shoulder. “Hey, butterfly, your sitter’s here.”

  I was frozen where I stood. Rendered completely mute.

  “She just had a bottle,” he said, handing me the baby. “I changed her diaper. She should be good for a bit.”

  I let him put Grace in my arms right there, still standing in the doorway.

  She was swaddled. It wasn’t Vanessa’s handiwork. The blanket was twisted into some weird intricate knot. He saw me looking at it and he nodded at her. “It’s an old Aboriginal wrapping method. A medicine woman taught me.”

  An Aboriginal wrapping—

  Who the fuck was this? What the hell was going on?

  And then Vanessa came up behind him and the whole thing went from bad to worse.

  She took the breath right out of my lungs. Her makeup was done and she wore a fitted burgundy dress and heels. Her hair was down and curled. She was stunning.

  She was going-on-a-date stunning.

  “Hey, come on in,” she said distractedly, fiddling with an earring she was putting in—or trying to. Her fingers were fumbling. She nodded at the guy. “This is Drake. Drake, Adrian.” She dropped the diamond stud and made an impatient huffing noise as she knelt to pick it up.

  “Here, let me help you,” Drake said, putting his hand out.

  She handed the earring to him and stood still while he got closer to put it in, tipping her head to the side.

  “You look nice, butterfly,” he said, his voice low.

  She gave him a flirty sideways smile. “Thanks. So do you.”

  Hot, thick jealousy ripped through me. There was something familiar about the way he touched her. Like he’d done it before.

  As soon as he was
done with her earring, she pivoted to grab a small purse.

  “Hey, I know we’re supposed to talk, but can we do it after?” she said to me, putting on her coat. “Drake and I need to get going. We’ll be at Vermilion.”

  I wrinkled my forehead. “Vermilion? They’re not open on Mondays—”

  “He bought out the restaurant.”

  He bought out the—

  ???

  “Hey, thanks for watching Grace,” she said. “She’ll probably sleep for a bit. I’ll be home by eight.”

  Then she edged past me out the door with Drake trailing behind her and was gone.

  He never put on a shirt.

  What. The. FUCK.

  Who the fuck was Drake? And why was he taking her to Vermilion? I wanted to take her to Vermilion!

  I looked around her apartment, holding the baby, feeling whiplashed.

  The room still smelled like Vanessa’s perfume. There were dresses on her bed. Lots of them. And shoes all over the floor. It looked like she’d tried on her whole damn closet. It was a studio. Did she try them on with him sitting there watching? What the hell?

  I pulled out my phone and called Becky. She answered on the first ring. “’Sup, boss?” She popped a bubble in my ear.

  “Do you know somebody named Drake? Does Vanessa ever talk about him?”

  The line went silent, and I thought I lost the call. “Why?” she said ominously.

  “Vanessa’s out with him—”

  “You let her go out with Drake? Oh my God. Oh. My. God.” She let out a shaky breath. “Okay, this is going to be okay. Adrian, this is very important. When you saw him was he wearing a shirt?”

  “What?”

  “A shirt! Did he have a shirt on?!”

  “No. Just some fake fur jacket, open in the front—”

  “Noooooo! Oh God!” she wailed. “It’s worse than I thought. He’s pulling out all the stops! She’s totally helpless around his pec muscles. He might as well have brought a hypnotist with him! Did you know his chest is insured for over two million dollars? Did you? Almost as much as his biceps. Not as much as his glutes.”

  She gasped for air. “I should have known. I should. Have. Known. Mercury’s in retrograde. Your horoscope today said you were getting an unexpected visitor. This is so fucked up. I wanted you guys to get married and have a million babies, and now she’s probably halfway to Bali on a catamaran!”