“I thought I was your best friend.”
“You’re my best male friend. She’s my best friend.”
“So I’m not your best friend? Ouch, bro.”
“You’re in the top two.”
Only two, really, but I feel like he’s missing the point.
“That’s not so bad, I guess. Hey, imagine if me and Sinclair got married someday. When you come to visit us, you’d get to see your two best friends at once!” He grins.
I’m dying. Oxygen is no longer getting into my bloodstream and my organs are shutting down. It’s the only explanation I can think of for the hell in which I find myself trapped.
“Again, Cole, let me be crystal clear. Do not treat Clair like some piece of ass. Don’t just sleep with her if you’re not serious about her.” My words are a caution.
He looks at me and his expression is earnest. “I wouldn’t do that, Dexter. I’m not an asshole.”
“I know you’re not an asshole. I just mean…” I blow out a breath and turn to him. “I know sometimes you date women and it’s just for fun. Clair is…she’s really important to me. Please don’t use her if you don’t see her as more than someone to go out with a couple of times, then move on from.” I hold his gaze, and even through his beer-induced haze, he seems to get that I’m not joking around.
“Dude…do you like her? Should I not have asked her out—were you going to make a move?”
The weight of that question hangs in the air for a moment. My heartbeat is so loud, I’m sure any passerby could hear it. The blood courses through my veins with such fervor, I feel as if my arteries will burst.
Should I have made a move?
I don’t think she’d have been remotely interested in changing the dynamic of our relationship, but I was never brave enough to find out. After tonight, I feel, somehow, like I’ll never get the opportunity to know for sure.
“We’re just friends. We’ve always been just friends.”
It doesn’t answer his question, but the subtle ambiguity of my response is lost on my friend.
“Okay, I was just making sure. Cause, dude,” he shakes his head. “She’s hot as hell. As long as I’m not stepping on your toes…I’m totally going for it.”
.-- --- -. -.. . .-.
The following Sunday, I go over to pick up Clair to head to the flea market. Her first week at work has been hectic, so it’s the first chance we’ve had to hang out since the night we all went to the salsa club.
I drive my Expedition so we have room to bring back her bounty, should the market be filled with treasures for her to make her new place feel more like home.
I pull up to the little blue house with the white trim about twenty minutes from my place. I notice as soon as I get out of the truck, it already looks like her. There are pretty potted plants on the front porch, and there’s an art deco style illuminated number plate. The dark blue door is just the right contrast against the pale blue and white of the house itself.
When I knock, she doesn’t keep me waiting. When she throws her arms around my neck, mine encircle her slim waist over the thin fabric of the t-shirt as the chunky sweater she has on over it rides up.
She shows me in, and we stand in the living room while she slips on her shoes. “I like your new place, Clair. The blue door is a nice touch.” It’s the same color blue as her eyes, I notice, but I keep that to myself because I don’t want to sound like a creep. I walk around the living room as she slips on her boots.
“The space is really bright. I love how open it feels.” She beams with pride.
“Thanks! I think I’ll be happy here. Oh, and did you notice the best part of this room? It’s a big part of why I bought the house.” Her smile is contagious.
My eyes drift back and forth, then I realize what she means. “Of course! The bookshelves? These are fantastic. I wish I had something like this at my place.” I run my finger along the recessed, white shelves, imagining her filling them with volumes of books on almost every topic imaginable.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” I give her the small parcel in my hand. “I brought you a little something.”
“Really? How sweet. Thank you!” She practically bounces forward to take it from me and pull it from the gift bag.
“Oh, Dex! I love it! I really, really love it!” The radiance of her smile illuminates my heart as she looks down at the gift. It’s a picture frame that bears a photo of us taken her senior year of college. We’re standing in front of the library, next to a stone sculpture that looks like a stack of books. We each have an arm draped around the other, and in our free hands, we each hold up a stack of textbooks.
That asshole should’ve fessed up, I think, looking at myself in the photo over her shoulder. That guy should’ve made a move years ago.
“Oh, and the frame,” she says, running a pale pink manicured finger along the thick, wooden picture frame. “It’s got words on it. I love that.”
“Not just words. Look more closely.” I reply with a grin that won’t be contained.
She holds the frame up and looks at it from a couple of different angles, then her eyes go wide.
She’s got it.
“No. Fucking Way!” She exclaims and my smile broadens. “Is this what I think it is?”
“It depends. What do you think it is?”
“I think it’s a page from the textbook of the coding class you were teaching when we met.” She narrows her eyes a little, challenging me to say she’s wrong. Of course, she’s not—she nailed it.
“You always were an excellent student.”
“You are so good to me.” Her voice is quiet, soft as she throws her arms around my neck again.
Maybe I’m projecting. Maybe I’m imagining the whole thing, but I swear she lingers longer than usual when she hugs me. She has one arm, the one holding the photo, wrapped around my back. The other is around my shoulders, and her fingers lightly brush the back of my hair. Her cheek nuzzles my neck and it’s a sensation that sets every fiber of my being alight. I wish the moment wouldn’t end.
“I’m so happy you like it. I love that photo of us and I thought, well, no matter what, you’d always have that to remember when we met.” My words are gentle, my eyes soft as they meet hers.
“No matter what? That sounds ominous.” She chuckles. “Please tell me I didn’t just move back and now you’re going to zip off to Geneva to live in the Alps and do research, or something.” She dips her head and cocks up one brow, suddenly less playful. “Seriously. Tell me that’s not what’s happening.”
No, but you going out with Cole feels just as dooming.
I quirk my lips to one side and look at her over my glasses. “If I were moving to Switzerland, do you honestly think I wouldn’t try to find a way to hire you on and bring you with me as a research assistant or something? Come on, Clair. They speak four languages there. Would I deprive you the opportunity to add Italian and Romansh to your repertoire? Besides, your French is stronger than mine.” I wink at her.
“Now you’re talking! Think of all the fun we could have, eating cheese and yodeling down alpine valleys.” Her smile is so genuine…she looks so happy that I wish I could just spirit her away to a place where it was just her and me.
“Don’t forget the chocolate. Swiss chocolate is some of the best in the world.” I try hard to squash thoughts of her covered in chocolate.
“You’d better stop! Talk like that is going to get me all hot and bothered.” She laughs as she fans herself with one hand.
Holy fuck. She’s killing me. The idea of a hot and bothered Clair is more than I can take.
“Seriously, though, I love this gift so much. It’s one of the best things anyone has ever given me. Thank you.” I’m thrilled with how much she likes the gift. My inner self drops to one knee, pulling my fist downward in victory. Score one for me.
She plants a palm on my chest and leans up and deposits the softest, sweetest kiss on my cheek. Then, she walks over to the empty built-in bookcase in t
he living room and puts the photo on a shelf that’s at eye-level, for her, anyway—it’s the most prominent position on the shelving unit.
On the way to the flea market, I broach the question I dread to ask. I take a deep breath, brace for the worst, and say the words. “So, how did your date with Cole go last night?”
She furrows her brows and purses her lips, tapping her pout with her index finger.
I know that face. She’s thinking hard. That’s her consideration face.
She didn’t immediately blurt out, “Amazing!” Or worse, “So good! He fucks like a jackhammer, that guy!” I immediately take this as a small victory.
“Cole is…a nice guy. He’s funny, and seems sweet.” Her shrug is at once noncommittal and resigned.
“That doesn’t sound like you heard violins and saw fireworks.” I offer a nervous chuckle. “You don’t like him?”
“I didn’t say that. I mean…let’s see…how can I put this succinctly?” She cocks her head to the side and gazes skyward for a second. I love this expression on her. It’s the one she uses when she’s appraising her choice of words so she can convey her meaning in the best possible way.
“Okay, here’s the thing: Cole is good-looking. He’s successful. He’s definitely confident, but he mostly keeps the cockiness in check. I should have felt fireworks. I want to like him. I do. There’s just…something missing that I can’t quite put my finger on.” She shrugs. “It’s as if, on paper, we seem like we’d be a great match. In reality, though, it’s as if my feelings aren’t big enough to warrant adverbs.”
My heart zips around in my chest. No fireworks. I let myself feel a moment of joy that she might not go out with him again. Then, I immediately feel like a dick. Cole is my friend. He’s a good friend. Clair’s my friend too, and I’ve never let the fact that I’ve harbored feelings for her get in the way of her happiness. They do match, the two of them. They could be happy together.
I ask a question to which I know the answer will be painful to hear, but I need to know where her head is.
“Are you attracted to him?”
“Well, I mean, I’m not blind. He’s hot by anyone’s standards. It’s just that there wasn’t a real connection, I guess. Am I being too picky? I feel like maybe I’m asking for too much from a first date.” She turns her palms skyward in exasperation and blows out a slow breath.
“I don’t see him being the kind of guy that would push,” I offer carefully. “He didn’t try anything that made you uncomfortable, did he?”
Because if he did, friend or not, I will hurt him, or at least try my best to do some serious damage.
“Oh, god no! He was a perfect gentleman. Even when I gave him a peck on the cheek instead of a kiss goodnight, he was fine with it.”
Peck on the cheek. No kiss goodnight. He struck out! My inner fourteen-year-old fist pumps the air.
“He asked me out again. I told him I’m pretty busy with work, and I’d have to see how our schedules line up. He’s going to call me this week so we can chat some more, so we’ll see how that goes. Maybe I’ve just got too much on my mind right now with the move and the new job.” She gives a deep sigh. “I guess I really should give the guy a chance, huh?”
“Cole is a decent guy.” I concede. “Just trust your gut. If you talk to him a little more, and you don’t feel it, just tell him. He’s a big boy. He can take it.”
“Speaking of big boys…,” she grins and pinches my bicep. It makes me insanely proud that there’s actual muscle there that I know she can feel. “I saw you dancing with a cutie at the club the other night. You got a big date of your own planned?”
“She was nice.” I remember that part of the night with a little smile. “Her name is Tabitha. She’s a veterinarian.”
“Ooh, Tabitha. That’s an adorable name. When are you going out with her?” She crosses her arms and inspecting her manicure.
“I haven’t called her yet.”
She turns her body to face me in the car, and at the stop light, I turn to look back at her.
“Dex, that was a week ago.” She shakes her head and looks upward, her palms pointing skyward. “What are you waiting for? She definitely thinks you’re not interested by now.”
“I was trying to play it cool. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Not be too eager?” I’m taking a stab at the right response because, honestly, when it comes to women I still have no idea what I’m doing most of the time.
“There’s too eager, and there’s, thanks but no thanks. She is probably thinking the latter. You need to call that girl. Today. Now, in fact.” She quirks her lip up at the corner and crosses her arms.
We pull into the parking lot of the flea market, and Clair grabs my arm before I can open my door.
“Not so fast, mister. Phone. Call cute Tabitha the veterinarian. Right now.” She gives me a playful scowl. “Unless you don’t like her, but your body language told me otherwise.”
I did sort of like her. She’s that pretty and cute combination that I really like. She’s nice, and seems really smart. She’s definitely the kind of girl I’d like to go out with. I’m not sure why I hesitated. I look down at my phone, then up at Clair.
Oh, yeah. That’s why.
“What should I say?”
“Tell her you’ve been sourcing some components with suppliers overseas, so your sleep and work schedule has been crazy this week. That’s not a lie, right?”
“How in the world do you remember that I told you that?” I’m stunned she would take that much interest in my work.
“My job is a snooze fest, and your work is fascinating.” She waves her hands in the air exaggeratedly. “I live vicariously through you, okay? Call the girl.”
She goes to grab the door handle, and I grab her arm. “Stay? Please?”
“That’s kind of creepy, Dex. You shouldn’t talk to a girl with someone else in the conversation she doesn’t know about.” She crosses her arms and purses her lips.
“I just don’t want to mess this up. I might need your help. Besides, it’s the first time I’m talking to her. I’m just calling to ask for a date, right?”
She wags her head from side to side, then breathes out a short, hard breath. “Okay. Just this one time…just because it’s me, and I know you so well. Don’t do this again, though, okay? Don’t be that guy.”
“You’re the best.” I grab my phone and open the contacts, my finger hovering over Tabitha’s number. I take a deep breath, and hit the button.
CHAPTER 6
Dexter
“HELLO?” THE VOICE ON the other end of the phone answers.
“Hi, Tabitha? It’s Dexter. Dexter Flynn. We met at the salsa club last weekend. Do you remember me?”
I look over and Clair is grinning and rolling her eyes, her head gently moving back and forth in amusement.
“Dexter? Hi.” Tabitha’s voice goes higher, and she immediately clears her throat and lowers it. “It’s great to hear from you. I honestly thought, when you didn’t call this week, you might not have been interested in talking again.”
“I’m so sorry I’ve been slow to call. I’ve been working with some European suppliers on some components for a project at work. I’ve been keeping their hours this week, so my sleep schedule is out of whack from the time difference.” I give a little shrug as I look at Clair. “I hope you’ll forgive me?”
“Oh, that’s okay!” Tabitha seems fine with the explanation, and even audibly excited that I called. “I totally understand.”
Suddenly, there’s a loud howl from wherever Tabitha is, then a second and third animal voice join the chorus.
“Fellas, seriously! Cut it out!” She yells toward somewhere in the distance away from the phone. “Sorry about that.” Her words bounce through a laugh. “I’m fostering a trio of beagle puppies at my place while we find them homes. They’re just a few weeks old. They’re cute as all get out, but they found their voices this week. When one goes off, they all do…like a cute, furry,
little three-puppy alarm system.”
Her laugh is sweet and warm, and I can hear the affection in her voice for the animals she’s caring for.
“I bet they’re a lot of fun.”
Clair taps my arm with the back of her hand and makes a hurry-up motion, Then mouths the word, “Date.”
“You sound like you’ve got your hands full, so I won’t keep you too long. I just wanted to ask if you’d be interested in maybe grabbing dinner this week, if you’re free one night.” My heart pounds after I get the words out.
“I’d love to!” She blurts out without hesitation. “I’m free Thursday night…and Friday, too.”
“How about Thursday night at seven? What part of town are you in?” She tells me where she lives. “There’s a great tapas place near there. Do you like Spanish food?”
“I love it!”
I offer to pick her up but tell her I’ll understand if she’d rather meet, since this is our first date. She appreciates the gesture, and I agree to text her the details before we say goodbye.
When I end the call, Clair immediately puts her hand up for a high-five.
“Nice job!” She’s smiling broadly.
“Thanks for the moral support.”
“Happy to help…But seriously, that’s the one and only time. A guy who can’t get a girl on his own, especially at our age? One that has to resort to help from his buddies? That’s a guy who doesn’t deserve a date.”
“Duly noted. Now, can we please get coffee?” I give her a pleading look over the top of my glasses.
“You got it, Casanova.” She elbows my arm and winks. “Let’s grab a cup and go find something fabulous for my new place.”
.-- --- -. -.. . .-.
I’m having a blast with Clair at the flea market. Her great taste extends from her personal style to her home décor choices. She finds a pair of small, square, wooden trunks to use as end tables.
“Hey, look at that.” I point to a ceramic llama and pick it up from a table we’re passing. “You must buy this for the bookshelf. It’s non-negotiable.”
In Other Words Page 4
