by Sandra Marie
***
It was damn cold, but Tommy wasn’t sweatin’ it. As soon they hit the beach, he was out on the sand, tugging his shoes off.
“Cover your eyes unless you wanna see what the stork saw!” he called over his shoulder, adrenaline warming him up. That was the stuff. There was this tiny itch of anger hanging around the back of his neck, but the significant rush of doing something dumb would erase that sucker.
“That ship has sailed, unfortunately,” Rae said, her silhouette outlined by the headlights of the car. She jammed her hands into her coat pockets and planted her feet on the dry sand.
“You gonna stand there all night?” Tommy asked, ripping off his shirt. The air bit at his nipples and made the hairs covering his stomach stand on end. Luckily they were the only crazy kids out on the beach, otherwise he’d be paying a good visit to the holding cell he hadn’t seen in a good year or two.
“I’m not going skinny dipping, that’s for sure.”
“You wanted to do something stupid.” He unbuttoned his jeans, took a deep breath, then yanked everything down. Rae was right—she’d seen his birthday suit plenty, and he wasn’t the least bit shy. But it was frigid, and he was turtling, so he covered up the goods.
“Driving to the beach mid-winter is my stupid thing,” she quipped, leaning back against the hood of the car. “And if you get swept away, then saving your naked butt will be my stupid thing.”
“Aww, so nice that you care.”
“I’m not running that tattoo shop alone.”
“You basically already do,” he admitted. Credit where credit was due, after all.
“That’s right,” she said, feigning a gasp of shock. “Fine then. Drown, and I will stay dry.”
Tommy clapped his hands together and faced the dark waters, his breath visible as it left his lips. The ocean was one of his buds; he seemed to always find that perfect blend of peace and terror that he craved in life. The corner of his mouth lifted, and he let out a battle cry and charged into the black waves.
The water crashed over him and frozen needles pricked every inch of skin. His blood rushed through his veins, his heart pounding to keep him alive, and his body tightened with all its might to lock in the precious body warmth. His head broke free, and he took in a sharp breath, then let out an exuberant laugh.
“Get in here, ya wuss!”
“No thank you!”
He sent a splash in her direction that didn’t go anywhere near her, then dove back under for another rush. He wouldn’t stay out long—he was stupid, but not that stupid.
His clothes were a good twenty feet away, nice and dry, but a bit sandy. He shivered as he bolted up the beach and wiped the drops of ocean from him with his t-shirt. Rae’s face was lit up by her phone, a frown on her lips as he squeezed into his jeans and threw his coat back on. His fingers fumbled with the buttons and zippers, numbness settling in and making it hard to function, so he left things undone and open.
“Hold me, I’m cold.” He sidled up to her and the headlights, mostly to distract her. She jolted from him as his cheek hit her shoulder.
“Keep your wet hair off my neck,” she scolded playfully, swiping yes on a guy on her dating app that looked like a complete dick. He was just an ab picture, and his profile was labeled, “Manaconda. You’re welcome, ladies.”
“What a charmer,” he said, suppressing a shiver. “What’s so appealing about him?”
“He’s available.” She swiped yes on the next one and kept going. “That’s really all I’m looking for at this point.”
“You take an hour to pick an outfit, but with guys anyone will do?”
She dropped her arm and shoved her phone into her coat pocket. Silence crept around them as thick as the wind whipping his hair into frozen icicles. Did she really want to go through all this again so soon after such a disaster? It had to be her coping mechanism—get someone else to erase the ugly night.
“Tommy…” she said after a minute. “What’s my favorite holiday?”
“Christmas.”
“After Christmas.”
“Fourth of July.”
She made a face. “After the Fourth.”
He hung his head, letting out a long sigh. He knew exactly what she was talking about, but he wasn’t about to admit it. Rae was a romantic, and Valentine’s Day was her day to frolic in the sunshine with every other romantic out there. She was a chick flick lover, a happily ever after fanatic, and with her tough exterior, Tommy had always found it to be the perfect oxymoron.
“I wanted a date this year,” she said, unzipping her coat as another shiver racked his body. She held open the side to let him sidle in. Her warmth penetrated his skin, and he tucked an arm around her waist. His numb fingers tickled her love handle, and she jerked away, but let him stay to warm up. “Everyone’s pairing off. When will it be my turn?”
Her tone warmed him more than her skin, and he settled his head atop hers. “And saying yes to everyone increases your chances?”
She nodded, turning to face him. He wrapped his other hand around her and held her close, his body slowly defrosting. She was about four inches shorter, so he slid down the car so his torso was covered while she zipped her coat up behind him.
He rested his head on hers again and let his breathing calm. There had never been anything romantic between them, and sharing the same coat was no different than any other friendly thing they’d done in the past. But an ache was growing in his stomach over the idea of her feeling lonely. She’d never alluded to any jealousy over Frankie getting engaged. He guessed it bugged her more than she’d let on.
He shifted his weight, the foreign discomfort making him a bit antsy. “We could double with Frankie and Alex,” he suggested. “Or even Jon and Cassidy. I’ll be your date.”
Her lips rumbled against his neck, and she leaned back slightly to give him a look. The shadows in the night had nothing on her piercing blue eyes.
“I’m a catch,” he defended, curling his fingers into the fabric of her shirt and hitting the skin near the small of her back. Ah… now they’d finally warm up. “I’ll pull your chair out and everything.”
“I want romance, Tommy.” She shifted so his ice fingers weren’t against her. He twisted them in her shirt instead. “I want flowers, chocolates, a nice dinner, and someone who’ll show me off and kiss me goodnight. I want the whole freakin’ nine yards of a crapstorm of romance. I think I need that at least once before I’m thirty. One of those yahoos I swipe yes to is bound to hit one or two of those requirements.”
“I’ll hit ‘em all,” he blurted with a tilt to his lips. “I’ll romance the shit out of you.”
“You’ve won me over already.”
“Seriously, Rae,” he said, wriggling so they had a little bit of distance between them. He gazed down over her red hair, her round cheeks bitten rosy with the cold air and her warm breath puffing out between them. He loved her; of course he did… in a soul mate type of way. Like she hurt, he hurt. It’d always been like that between them.
He playfully pinched the waistband of her jeans. “Let me do Valentine’s Day this year for ya.”
“You hate Valentine’s Day.”
“You don’t.”
“And what about the shop? It’s one of our busiest days.”
That was true. Lots of couples came in to get matching tattoos. “We can close early.” He bumped her. “Have a night to just us.”
“Close early?”
“Why not?”
“We have to, you know, make money.”
“Bah.” He laughed, and the tightness in his chest alleviated when she joined him with her giggle-giggle-snort, shaking her head.
“So…?” he prodded, squeezing to her again. He was almost all the way warm, with the exception of his toes, which he would have to rely on the car heater for. “You cool it with the dating app till after V-day, and I’ll do the crapstorm of romance for you?”
She tilted her head back and forth, her eyes focused
on the tattoo he had across his shoulder. She absent-mindedly reached between them, tracing the outline of the crowd-surfer on top a pit of zombies before pulling his coat over his skin.
“Don’t expect me to put out,” she said, and he internally fist-pumped that she was agreeing.
“What if I get you the lobster?” he teased. She reached back around and unzipped them, and the cold air bit at his exposed chest. His fingers were okay to zip up his own coat now, though.
“If we put sex into our friendship, we’ll end up just like Frankie and Alex.”
He hissed through his teeth. “Nicely played.” Considering Alex was non-stop working to afford the engagement ring, rent, and the baby on the way, and Frankie was pretty on edge every time he’d seen her the past couple months, he was good keeping his friendship with Rae strictly that. Friends, no benefits.
Besides, why ruin a good thing?
The ghost of Tommy’s touch lingered on her skin, warming Rae more than the ratty old comforter on her bed. She wrapped herself in the bed, snuggling with a soft pink body pillow she’d bought herself last Valentine’s Day. She liked the feeling of someone next to her while she slept. Since she wasn’t exactly a pet person, it was either this or one of the giant Costco bears.
It was well past midnight when Tommy had dropped her off, the earlier date almost entirely forgotten until she laid her head down. He was so good at that—cheering her up. It helped that he never displayed the typical protective male macho “I’ll kill him” attitude. Rae was capable of fighting her own battles; she’d done it plenty. Tommy was good for a laugh. A hug.
His ghost hand ran over her side, the memory of him doing it earlier causing her to grin and shiver more into her covers. His touch would always be like a Band-Aid. No… more powerful than that. Like a healing potion she’d only read about or seen in movies.
She was sure she’d never find that kind of touch from anyone else if he was around.
Her phone vibrated on her nightstand, and she fought the urge to look at it. Most of the time it was just a notification from Kwazy Cupcakes or spam email, especially at four in the morning. And if she was ever going to get some sleep, the phone would not help.
You’ll only be distracted if you pick that up, Rae. Don’t you dare!
Even her internal pep talk didn’t help much. A minute and half after it had buzzed, she huffed and slapped the phone, dragging it to her face.
She squinted against the brightness, letting her eyes adjust before pressing the notification.
If I try to skinny dip in February again, remind me of this moment.
Following the text was a picture of Tommy, eyes red and tissue stuffed up his nostrils. He was the living embodiment of the “man cold.”
She thanked her common sense for not jumping in with him.
You need some of Mom’s chicken noodle?
The answer bubbles popped up immediately, and Rae unplugged her charger and propped against her pillow. Sleep wasn’t happening anyway.
I need all of it. The soup, the crackers, the ginger ale, a teddy bear, and a notary.
Planning on taking out a loan?
Drafting a Living Will. I’m probably dying.
She shook her head, whisper giggling. I get your car.
He sent back a “you crazy!” GIF. She responded with one from Pimp My Ride.
I will fight this death just to keep you away from my baby.
She then sent him a “No soup for you!” GIF from Seinfeld, cracking herself up with her wit. It was a downright lie. She was contemplating getting out of bed right now and starting the Instapot, but it was just too comfy, and her apartment was so cold at four in the morning.
Her phone buzzed, and her brow furrowed at the notification from her dating app. YOU’VE GOT A MATCH! <3
She swiped out of the conversation with Tommy and opened the app. A swoop dipped through her stomach and straightened her spine. She shot up, blinking her tired eyes to make sure she didn’t read it wrong.
Gavin Mills swiped yes. On her picture.
Shaking, she took a screen shot and went back to Tommy.
Um… Guess you were right… She sent off the screen shot and didn’t have to wait long for a response.
You’re not supposed to be on that until after our epic date, remember?
I can’t help the notifications.
You turn those off! Or no crapstorm of romance for you.
She snorted and flipped over to the settings on her phone. She could do with a few days without constantly checking the thing… but Gavin Mills. It couldn’t hurt to strike up a conversation, could it? She wouldn’t set anything up until after Valentine’s Day if they clicked. Tommy wouldn’t want her to miss an opportunity, would he?
Yep. She totally rationalized that one, but she didn’t care. She clicked on Gavin’s profile and hit messenger now that they were matched. Forgetting it was “creeper time” in the dating world, she shot off a Hey, funny seeing you around here ;)
Her text notification ran up at the top of the screen, and she tapped back to Tommy.
You messaged him, didn’t you?
Do you have my phone hacked?
Just know you ;) Bring me soup.
After I get at least 5 hours of sleep.
I’ll shut up, then. ;) G’nite buddy.
Butterflies cascaded up her abdomen at the endearment. It was his usual text goodbye, and it still affected her in that way that a warm cup of Mom’s best hot cocoa did. If she ended up in Vegas, in a new life, with a new job, and new possibilities, she hoped that he’d still give her the typical send-off.
She slept the screen and plugged her phone back in, her mind too busy to get one hour of sleep, let alone five. Moving out of Seattle had been in the back of Rae’s mind for years, and she was finally faced with the decision to do it. Her dating options had run thin, and after what had happened earlier with Brian, she didn’t have high hopes for future dating. Even if it was Gavin Mills.
She’d never lived too far away from the people she loved. Her family was so close, and Tommy had been locked to her hip since they were teens. How could she wake up every day knowing she wouldn’t see his stupid handsome face? Hear his laughter? Join him in unforgettable shenanigans?
She tossed in the bed, growling into her soft body pillow. It wasn’t her dates that were the problem. If she was going to find the love of her life, she had to get away from the guy who’d been playing the part in her heart.
Tommy spent the weekend in a stuffy haze. Rae’s soup had nothing on the monster residing in his throat. The thing was a beast, clawing up and down his esophagus, reminding him to never dive naked into the ocean when it was barely over freezing. It was worth it; Rae seemed over the last date and onto making requests for Valentine’s Day.
But never again.
He’d never been into the holiday, preferring to book up that day and rack in the cash from matching couple tattoos. If Tommy ever got to the point in his life when there was someone special enough for that, he had space saved right over his chest. Not a lot of space, but enough.
Rae’s chest was blank, too. He wondered if that was on purpose.
The three days in bed sipping soup and contemplating tearing his nose off gave him a chance to plan the most epic Valentine’s date in the history of the holiday. He watched hour after hour of Sandra Bullock, Meg Ryan, Julia Roberts, Kate Hudson, and of course, Audrey Hepburn. He was well-versed in the art of meet-cutes and seduction. It rains on V-Day? Bam… he’ll be there with an umbrella and an impromptu dance number. No available reservations? Boom… he’ll be ready with a sly hand off of President Jackson. Too cloudy for star gazing? Wablam… he’ll be prepared for that, too.
He was going to show Rae what she deserved so she wouldn’t settle for any more of those losers she’d been swiping yes to. It might lead to a call to his dad, which wasn’t what he really wanted, but he had it in his back pocket just in case. Dad’s connections could make anything happen.
&nbs
p; After checking that his voice was past the stage of sounding like death, he clicked onto his cousin Jon’s name and waited for him to answer.
“Dr. Bateman.”
“Ooh, the formal greeting,” he teased, flopping down on his moth-eaten couch. Something hard and round dug into his butt.
“Sorry.” Jon yawned. “Just delivered a set of twins. Mother went into labor yesterday morning, and they finally arrived around three AM”
“And I woke you up. Got it.” Tommy shifted, removing the superball that was jammed between the couch cushion and his butt cheek. He flung it against the far wall and caught it. “Real quick… Did you say you knew someone who worked for an animal shelter or something?”
“Steven and Ginny, yeah. They actually applied for the ASPCA at the start of the new year. Not sure if they’re still working at the shelter.”
“Darn. Was hoping to get in touch with them. Want to surprise Rae with something.”
“I think they do pet foster care,” Jon said through another yawn. “I can text you his number.”
“Thanks, ‘cous.” Tommy tossed the superball again but missed the rebound and let it roll across his messy floor. He hung up, and after a few minutes without a text, he figured the guy zonked out. He’d remind him later; Tommy had to get to work, anyway. If his best friend wanted romance, he sure as hell was gonna give it to her.
He threw on a coat, stuffed the pockets full of tissues just in case, and headed out to Mills Industries. If anyone could help him learn how to romance a woman, it was the guy who’d only had twelve days to do it… and succeeded.
Alex knew Rae just as well as Tommy did, too. Well, not just as well—no one knew Rae that well, but it was close. He was bound to have some pointers.
Tommy hopped into his twenty-eighth birthday gift from good ol’ Dad and turned the key. His dad had been bugging him about reliable cars since he was old enough to drive, and every few years a new set of keys appeared in Tommy’s hand. It was most likely Dad’s way of parenting from across the country. Tommy would put up the argument that he wasn’t a kid anymore, but really, who would believe that? He might be living in an almost-thirty body, but his head was set firmly at twenty-one. Sometimes twelve.
