Anyway, I thought I’d get confirmation that our one-nighter was in line with Mark’s general MO and he hadn’t, say, fallen off a cliff in the last two days. That info was definitely worth a trip to Caribou Coffee where I could casually quiz Laney. Then I could put the whole thing to rest and move on with normal life—life without Sopranos dudes and guns and Manaconda Mondays and road trips and sexy muscled arms and searing kisses and toe-curling orgasms and sweet hugs and—oh for Christ’s sake!
I hadn’t seen Laney since the weekend so we’d agreed to meet up for a coffee/hot chocolate date after work. I had been so busy obsessing about Mark I hadn’t even spilled the beans about Jake’s potential move back to Greensboro. Yay me!
She and I still had the dinner to plan and I was dying to know if anyone had been to see Mark’s dad to share the news that his money was gone—boo hoo. But I could not bring myself to text or call Mark. A silent brushoff was enough—I didn’t need verbal or text confirmation from the source himself.
I waited for Laney at a table by the window, having already ordered both our drinks, and I was trying to come up with the best way to casually ask about Mark’s sex life. Ugh, this was going to be hard. I’d finally resolved to just wing it in my normal spazzy way when Laney walked through the door.
“I know, I know, Skechers are not appropriate work attire. Ward off the fashion demons and move on,” she said as she approached the table and dropped into the seat opposite me.
I took in her outfit which did, in fact, include Skechers, but I had to give her points for her cute asymmetrical top. However, since I knew it amused her, I crossed myself and whispered a request for forgiveness on Laney’s behalf to Inner Fashion Maven and Christian Louboutin while I was at it. “Done,” I said.
She rolled her eyes at me, took a sip of her drink and sighed. “Nate picked Rocco up and they’re going out for guys’ dinner so I’ve got the whole evening free.”
“Yay—that’s awesome. Maybe we can grab dinner after this or something. You know we still have to plan a party for Jake,” I began.
“I was just thinking about that today. I know it started as an excuse to hang out with Kelly, but I’m still excited to do it,” she said. “But first, I haven’t even seen you since you got back from Atlantic City. I need the full recap!”
I leaned forward in my seat, eager to finally share the good stuff. “I already told you just about everything, but I did leave out one juicy bit. You have to swear not to tell Nate, though, or Mark will lose his shit.” I proceeded to tell her all about the club and the guys who had a thing for Mark’s hot bod.
We were both laughing like idiots by the time I finished. Laney snorted and then said, “Too bad for all those guys Mark doesn’t swing the other way. I get the impression he’s a total manwhore—he could have lined up a record number of dates.” She continued to giggle, but my mood fell flat on its face.
Shit. This was the information I’d come here for, so why did I feel like someone had just sucked all the air out of the room.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to mask my emotions quickly enough to avoid Laney’s notice. She smiled and crinkled her eyebrows at me in silent question. I attempted a grin that I’m sure came off as more of a grimace and then tried to hide behind my coffee. Her smile died right there on her face and her left hand came up to rub her cheek. Shit! That was her tell.
“Oh, Fiona,” she said.
“What?” I responded, setting my coffee back down and shooing her with my hand. “It was no big deal. I’ve had one-night stands before. So what?”
She rested her elbow on the table, still cradling her face. “I guess so. But you don’t really seem okay. What happened? I mean, I don’t need the details of the deed itself, but did you guys talk about it? Did you know what you were getting into?”
“No…I don’t know. We didn’t talk about it—before or after—but we’d been kind of dancing around each other so I suppose it was bound to happen.” I picked at the seam of my coffee sleeve.
She grabbed my hand. “About what I said before, I don’t know for a fact that he just does hook-ups. It was just a guess. I mean, maybe you guys can do the casual thing like you usually do. Unless that is, you want…do you want…do you want a relationship?” There was way too much hope in her voice.
I huffed. “Oh, God no. You’ve known me for how long and you ask such a question? I’m a little worried about the state of our friendship.” I attempted to joke but even I knew it rang false.
“Oh.” She pulled her hand back and picked up her hot chocolate again.
“What?”
“It’s just that I guess part of me was hoping you’d finally be open to a relationship. That’s all.”
Yeah, no shit. She was about as opaque as cling wrap.
But she looked so darn sad I was kind of mad at myself for disappointing her.
“Look,” I said. “I may not be ‘relationship girl’ but I can admit that maybe I was hoping for a friends-with-benefits deal.”
“You said ‘was.’ Why can’t you still do that? And then maybe see where it goes…”
Gah!
“Because he hasn’t called or texted since he dropped me off on Tuesday, and I can’t stop thinking about him and I am going out of my mind mentally reliving the best sex of my entire life!” I blurted—maybe a touch too loudly judging by the pinch-faced glares I was receiving from the two older women across the way.
Oops.
Well, clearly neither one of them had ever screwed a man who was built like a fucking mountain and was sweet to his mother. Dammit.
“Oh my God,” Laney said.
I knew that look—and that tone of voice.
Retreat!
“You like him.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Well, of course I like him. Do you think I have sex with people I hate? Who does that?”
“No, I mean you like him.”
I scoffed at her, “Yeah, right. You know what I like?” I slammed down my almost empty coffee cup. “I like how he smells. It drives me out of my ever-loving mind and makes me think things I never think. And it lights my panties on fire!” I looked over to the disapproving, awesome-sex-deprived women. “That’s right, ladies. Panties. On. Fire. And I’m not even a liar!” I pointed at them and taunted like some mentally unstable version of a coffee-house poet.
At this point, Laney took over since I had evidently lost my mind. “Let’s go,” she said as she stood and gathered my purse along with all her things. I stood up and beelined for the door ahead of her. I was done with this. I wasn’t going to let some man turn me into a nut-job!
Laney attempted an apology to the women who had tragically never been to Sexy Muscle Magic Land and then raced to catch up to me as I stomped down the sidewalks of Friendly Center in my four-inch heels.
“Where in the hell are we going?” Laney asked. When I didn’t answer, I heard her mutter, “Well at least I wore comfortable shoes.”
So now we were at Macy’s, trolling the men’s fragrance department on the hunt for whatever that damn intoxicating cologne was that Mark used to lure me in and catch me unawares.
I turned to Laney to explain my strategy again. “I’m going to buy a big-ass bottle of whatever it is he wears so I can do some good old-fashioned immersion therapy and rid myself of my damn Pavlovian response to that scent!” I was white knuckling the theory that it was his scent, not the man himself, that had tricked me into possibly having—gag—feelings.
“I guess,” said Laney, in a pathetic attempt at encouragement.
“There are too damn many of these.” I looked around helplessly, which was a little sad because I don’t think I’ve ever in my entire life felt anything less than blissful at a department store.
“Maybe I can help. Describe the scent,” Laney pitched in with much-needed enthusiasm. This is why I love this girl.
I thought about Mark’s scent and my lady parts immediately sighed. Shut it, bitches! Mama has demons to exorcise! I bl
ocked them out and tried to concentrate. “I don’t know—a little spicy and kind of herby and woodsy, but in a way that’s like a favorite blanket you bring out from an old cedar chest.” I was staring off into space and almost missed her stifled snort. “What?!”
“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve got it bad.”
Did I just say I loved her? Well, forget that. She was dead to me.
I groused, “Oh shut up and help me find this shit.”
Laney snickered and then dutifully approached the first counter.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lady Gaga Would Make a Terrible Ninja
FIONA
“I’ve got some news,” Laney sing-songed over the phone later that night.
“You found the cologne?” I asked excitedly. Maybe Nate had known what it was all along! Or not, because that would be weird.
We had completely struck out at Macy’s, and by the time we’d smelled the fortieth scent our olfactory senses were numb and everything had started smelling like old feet dipped in sporty deodorant. We’d finally given up and decided to grab dinner, where we vowed not to discuss Mark and/or the events that led up to me shtupping him.
Instead, Laney told me about Nate’s increasingly peculiar behavior, but this time she wasn’t finding it worrying. Instead, she was getting a kick out of it. This was a surprising, but welcome, turn of events.
Apparently, Nate was up to something because twice in the past week Laney had come up behind him, unintentionally startling him, and each time he had jumped sky high and then stuttered and stammered like Woody Allen. The man was undoubtedly guilty of something.
“He wouldn’t…” I began. I could never see Nate cheating on Laney, but I had to make sure her mind wasn’t going there.
“No, no—definitely not,” she reassured. “Both times I surprised him he had been typing into his phone and tried to hide it from me really quickly.”
“Umm…” I uttered and then stopped because wasn’t this exactly the type of behavior a cheater would exhibit? Sorry, Nate, I have total faith in you, but whatever you’re up to you need to be a bit subtler, dude.
“No, you don’t understand. He doesn’t have a password on his phone and he’s always asking me to answer it for him or check his texts when his hands are busy. That means he’s been planning something online.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled.
The lightbulb finally turned on. “Your birthday! Of course! Oh, I wonder what he’s planning. Do you think it’s a trip? You totally deserve it, and if your parents can’t take Rocco you know I will.” I was so happy for her that she had such an awesome guy.
“I don’t know yet, but I’m excited anyway. And I haven’t told you the best part—he gave his landlord his notice so, as of next month, Nate will officially be living with us!” she announced.
I squeed. “Oh my God! I’m so happy for you guys.” I reached across the table and hugged her. “I feel like we should order a bottle of champagne or something, but then we can’t drive.” My smile turned into a pout.
She waved me off. “Another time.”
I looked at my best friend and she was glowing with contentment. “Laney, I can’t think of anybody who deserves happiness more than you.”
She’d smiled at me and then grabbed my hand across the table. “I can.”
Aaand with that I’d switched the subject to planning Jake’s party while we’d finished our meals.
It was now past dark and I’d been getting ready for bed when Laney’s call had come through.
“No, I didn’t find the cologne. This is better!” she taunted.
“Sweet Jesus, Nate’s taking you to Paris! I love that man!”
Laney laughed. “No, it’s about Mark.”
Visions of springtime in Paris were replaced with those of me enjoying late night reality TV with my buddies Ben and Jerry. Kim would probably be invited too, but unless she figured out how to pair deliciously with ice cream she’d have to wait her turn.
“Hello?” I heard.
“I’m ignoring you.” I tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder and opened the toothpaste.
“It’s good news—I promise,” she pleaded.
“Fine. Go on, if you must.”
“So when I got home, Nate and I were talking and I very casually asked him about Mark’s dating habits and—”
“YOU WHAT?!” The toothbrush fell into the sink and I braced my hands on the counter. Deep breaths, Fiona.
“Shut up and pay attention! I was a total ninja—he had no idea why I was asking.”
I huffed at that.
She ignored me. “Anyway, he said Mark always makes it clear to anybody he’s with that he only does casual one-nighters—”
I stood up straight. “This is your good news? What do you have planned for tomorrow? Are you going to buy me a pony and then say ‘just kidding’?”
“If you don’t shut up and let me finish I may do just that!” She was using the tone she reserves for Rocco when he’s done something super inappropriate, like the time he asked Nate’s mom if she liked having a big butt to sit on.
In other words, my choices were to listen while she finished or hang up and incur her wrath. I chose to listen.
“Fine.” I didn’t say I would be nice about it.
“As I was saying,” she stressed the word pointedly, “according to Nate, Mark always—always—makes sure he and his ‘partner’ are on the same page before the deed is done. And—listen carefully—he never sleeps with girls he hangs out with.” She sounded like she’d just delivered some kind of awesome news and was waiting for accolades. Um, thanks for the news that the guy I boffed is a totally indiscriminate manwhore?
“I don’t understand,” was all I could say. At this point, I dropped to the bathroom floor on my butt with my back pressed against the wall. I felt weird.
“Fiona, it means he went totally off-script with you. He never gets to know a girl first. He never hangs out with her casually or as friends. He never dates. Until you!”
“What do you mean? We’re not dating. He hasn’t even called me in two days!”
She sighed. “Answer me this: what was the last thing he said to you before you parted ways the other night?”
I thought back to the scene on the sidewalk where I’d been feeling all kinds of confused. I’d been tempted and scared at the same time, and when he’d tried to find a way up to my condo I had brushed him off with excuses of being tired.
And then that kiss! Gah!
“Um, I believe he didn’t actually use words—more like just his tongue,” I muttered into the phone.
“Ha! I knew it. He’s totally into you!”
“Then why hasn’t he called, dammit?!” I hollered before I could think better of it. “I mean, wait. No. I don’t want to date him. I just want hot sex with him, Laney,” I may have whined.
“Keep telling yourself that, girlie, but you’re the only one buying it. And he hasn’t called because he’s obviously giving you a little space. I guarantee he will call you within the next twenty-four hours. And, besides, Nate said he’s been working late trying to catch up. And then there’s the whole thing with his dad—they’re all arguing over who is going to tell him about the money. Cut your new boyfriend some slack.” She snickered.
Bitch!
“He is not my boyfriend!”
“We’ll see. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you the good news. And, like I said, don’t worry, I was a total ninja so Mark will never know I was snooping.”
I had too much else to think about to remind Laney that she was about as subtle as Lady Gaga. I hung up the phone and sat there for a few more minutes before picking my ass up and finally brushing my teeth.
Boyfriend?
No.
Absolutely not.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Look at Me Being All Sensitive and Shit
MARK
Nate: Heads up, man.
Mark: About what?
Nate: Laney
was quizzing me about you. Fiona’s flipping the fuck out.
Mark: Shit.
Nate: What are you going to do?
Mark: I’ll figure something out. I’ve been so swamped I’ve hardly come up for air.
Nate: I know—that’s why I’m sending the heads up. You’d best get your ass in gear if you want a chance with her. “If” being the question.
Mark: Okay, thanks, man. Prepare all your jokes and insults now. I’m going all in.
Nate: You just made my day, you pussy-whipped little douchebag! Wow, that felt good. Later.
I deserved it so I figured I’d better be prepared for all the payback coming my way. Who was the fuckmuppet now?
It was ten at night on Thursday and I was exhausted. I’d taken work home with me the last couple nights and was playing catch up. It wouldn’t have been so bad except while I had been in Atlantic City we’d had an order fall through on one of my jobs, and the client on another one was threatening to fire the architect, which would push our start date way out and screw up our whole schedule.
And, as if that wasn’t enough, Jake, Mom, and I were in a stalemate over who was going to go see the old man and break the news to him that his money was all gone and his disregard for everyone’s safety had earned him exactly what he deserved—a huge hospital bill and no prospects.
Thankfully, it now seemed our fears of our mom wanting to get back together with the asshole could be put to rest. She was as fired up as we were, if not more so. I know Jake and I both relished the thought of finally sticking it to him in person, but our mom was insistent that she be the one and only person he spoke to. I think she was afraid he’d hurt our feelings or something, but she just kept saying that he didn’t deserve to see how well we’d turned out and she didn’t like the thought of us in the same room as the asshole. Well, she’d said “loser” but I’m sure she’d meant “asshole.” We had to decide soon, though, because he’d been expecting her to show up by now, money in hand.
The Spark (Carolina Connections Book 2) Page 19
