Not For Me

by Laura Jardine

  “Poison” made her think of Grant—his joke that he’d poison her with his cooking. She had a gulp of her own drink to chase away that silly thought as well as the taste of the awful beer.

  “So what do you do?” she asked Brady.

  “I’m a PhD student,” he said. “Sociology. I study Canadian versus American coffee-shop culture.”

  “Seriously?” Maya said. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m an accountant. The world needs accountants, but it does not need people studying flaky shit like coffee-shop culture.”

  Brady gave her a withering look.

  Kristy thought it was rather interesting. Brady wasn’t so bad. Why was Maya giving him a hard time?

  “Any particular coffee shop you’d recommend in Toronto?” Kristy asked. “I assume you’ve been to lots of them.”

  “Perhaps the Poisoned Apple?” Maya suggested. “Kristy and I walked by it a few weeks back. Seems like your kind of thing.”

  “Yes! You’ve been there? Isn’t it an experience?”

  “No, I most certainly have not,” Maya muttered.

  “I’ll check it out sometime,” Kristy said.

  “We should go together.” Brady put his arm around her, and it was pleasant. Just pleasant. “You must have the Poison Special.”

  “What’s in that? Cyanide and anthrax?” Maya said.

  Kristy glared at her.

  “We’ll see,” she said to Brady.

  *

  Grant was hopeful when he arrived at the bar ten minutes early. His eyes immediately settled on Kristy, who was wearing a light brown sleeveless shirt, her hair down. She looked absolutely beautiful.

  But there was a guy sitting beside Kristy, a little younger and smaller than Grant. And his arm was around her.

  Shit. Grant’s first instinct was to leave. But he would do this—he’d promised. He couldn’t have her think he’d stood Maya up. Gritting his teeth, he made his way over to the table and sat beside his “date,” who looked happy to see him. Kristy offered him a tiny smile, then looked down.

  The guy with his arm around Kristy ignored Grant and kept talking. He used words like “psyche” and “existentialism” and “metaphysics.” Repeatedly. He was really on a roll—even Kristy wasn’t getting a word in. So Grant had no chance. He passed the time by looking at Kristy while pretending not to look at her. She fiddled with the straw in her drink; he fiddled with a coaster and bounced his leg. He paid just enough attention to the guy’s monologue to realize he was going on about a coffee shop, of all things.

  After five minutes, the guy finally introduced himself. “Brady.” He nodded at Grant.

  If Kristy was going to break her two-month rule, it ought to be with Grant, not this Brady character, who was obsessed with a coffee shop called the Poisoned Apple. The idiot was also drinking a beer called Poisonous Acorn.

  “Kristy and I will leave you two alone for a while.” Brady turned to Kristy. “What about a game of darts?”

  She hesitated. “Okay. But I’m terrible.”

  “I’ll teach you.”

  Great. Teaching would probably involve touching.

  “Sure. Let’s go.” Kristy stood up and headed toward the free dartboard.

  Once the woman he wanted and the guy he hated were out of earshot, Grant asked Maya, “What’s the deal with Brady?”

  “We just met him twenty minutes ago. He had a friend with him initially, but Kristy made it clear that I had a date.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No worries,” Maya said. “I didn’t like him. Nor do I like Brady.”

  Grant looked over at the dartboard. Brady hit the bull’s-eye, then high-fived Kristy. “But what does Kristy think?”

  “I hope she’s just trying to make you jealous. But Brady is the kind of guy Kristy would normally date. Maybe she likes him.”

  If she was trying to make him jealous, she sure was succeeding.

  After buying a beer, Grant had a pleasant enough conversation with Maya for the next little while. It would have been pleasanter if he hadn’t had to watch Kristy play darts with Brady, and if Brady hadn’t kept putting his hands on her. They played for about fifteen minutes before returning to the table.

  “Who won?” Maya asked.

  “He did,” Kristy said. “You know how terrible I am at darts.”

  “There’s a dartboard at the Poisoned Apple,” Brady said. “Isn’t that a brilliant idea, a dartboard in a coffee shop? It’s a great experience.”

  When Brady used “psyche” for the second time in as many minutes, Grant wished he could shove a poisoned apple up—

  Well, into Brady’s mouth.

  Brady’s hand moved up Kristy’s side, from her waist to her shoulder, and Grant really wished he had such an apple on hand. Preferably one with fast-acting poison. Because he wanted—yearned—to be in Brady’s place. He’d rub his thumb in circles across her shoulder. Then brush his hand back down her curves. Whisper, Let’s get out of here.

  Instead, Brady whispered something to Kristy. Grant shut his eyes, but then he imagined Brady and Kristy kissing, Brady pushing her down on a bed…

  And damn it, Kristy was laughing at whatever that whisper was about. But at least she wasn’t blushing.

  “I watched a great movie last night,” Grant said. “Called Invaded!! Two exclamation marks, to be clear. Invaded! with one exclamation mark is a different movie. Anyway, aliens invade Earth, starting in Shanghai. The special effects are out of this world. The script leaves a little to be desired—there isn’t much dialogue and the plot is a bit thin. Very thin, actually. But the battles! I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “I love that movie!” Maya said. “I watched it a few weeks ago. The final battle was epic. And the top-secret dwarf army that—”

  “Don’t say it,” Grant said with mock urgency. “You don’t want to ruin it for them.”

  “Very true. Don’t want to ruin the experience. I will say this, though—I’ll never look at bouncy castles the same way again.”

  Brady rolled his eyes. “You two belong together. I’m going to get another Poisonous Acorn. Kristy, what do you want?”

  “A rum and coke.”

  Brady gave Kristy’s shoulder a squeeze, then headed to the bar.

  “I actually watched a bank-heist movie last night,” Grant said. He hadn’t felt like sleeping after he got home from Kristy’s.

  “I thought you said he was okay,” Maya said to Kristy. “But he’s trying to figure out how to rob a bank. Someday he’ll be on the front page of the paper under the headline, TEN-MILLION-DOLLAR HEIST FOILED. In handcuffs.”

  “No, I bet he’d get away with it,” Kristy said. “And besides, seeing your love interest in handcuffs on the front page of the paper is unlikely to happen twice to one woman.”

  Nice to know she had confidence in him. And nice to hear her talk—she’d been way too quiet. Not so nice to hear himself described as Maya’s love interest.

  “What’s with the bouncy castle?” Kristy asked Maya.

  “I have no idea where I was going with that.”

  “I’m sure Brady watches some interesting movies.” Kristy glared at them.

  Brady returned a moment later. “I realized I’ve never heard of this Invaded!! movie.”

  Of course not. And he was probably the kind of guy who was interested in movies no one had heard of, whether or not they had a top-secret dwarf army.

  “It didn’t hit the big theaters,” Grant said.

  Now he had Brady’s attention. This could be fun.

  But Brady, to his credit, soon figured out that something was amiss. “A small film with a big budget for special effects?”

  “He was joking,” Kristy said. “There’s no such movie.”

  “Oh,” Brady said. “Ha.” He smiled, then tucked a lock of Kristy’s hair behind her ear.

  Something else Grant wished he could do.

  “I saw a great indie film last night,” Brady said. “It was about a suicida
l brick. Great commentary on existentialism.”

  “Really?” Maya said. “Existentialism, huh?”

  “Reminds me of the depressed robot in Hitchhiker’s.” Grant chugged the last third of his beer.

  “Yes,” Brady said. “I thought of that. But this movie was—”

  “Less satirical?” Grant suggested.

  “That, too.”

  Grant wasn’t interested in this suicidal brick. He went to buy a drink for himself and one for Maya and watched Kristy as he waited at the bar. She slipped her arm around Brady and briefly rested her head on his shoulder. Then she fingered his stupid plaid shirt and—

  “What can I get for you?”

  Grant jumped back from the bar.

  Right. Drinks. Of course.

  He bought two beers and headed back to the table. Thankfully they were done talking about existentialism, metaphysics, and suicidal building materials. But Kristy and Brady still had their arms around each other. So Grant put a hand on Maya’s shoulder—if Kristy was trying to make him jealous, he’d do the same.

  Kristy’s eyes widened—that was good, right?—but then she smiled. She thinks it’s working out, and she’s glad. Crap.

  “How did you two meet?” Brady nodded at Grant, then Maya.

  “Ummm…” Maya began.

  “I set them up,” Kristy said brightly. “I saw him in a bookstore and figured he was perfect for her. It’s going well, isn’t it?”

  Grant didn’t know what to say. Maya, too, said nothing.

  “That’s so sweet of you.” Brady turned to Kristy. And kissed her on the cheek.

  No, no, no.

  Grant couldn’t watch this anymore. He dropped his hand from Maya and gripped both sides of the chair.

  Kristy was his.

  Or she should be.

  Brady curled a strand of her hair around his finger as he studied her face. The bastard may have stopped talking, but this was even worse. He rested his chin on her shoulder and kissed her neck. Kristy whispered something to him, and they both laughed.

  Grant hardly knew what he was doing now.

  “Kristy.” He jerked his head in the direction of the bar. “I need to talk to you.” He stood up and took a step away from the table.

  She shrugged apologetically. “Be right back.”

  As soon as she was standing, he grabbed her hand, pulled her toward him, and lifted her up, his hands cupping her ass.

  “Grant…”

  He wasn’t going to let her say, I don’t think we should do this. He closed his mouth over hers and kissed her with everything he had. Hard, urgent kisses at first. But when her lips yielded to his, he opened his eyes and slowed it down. He had Kristy, she wanted him, and it was bliss. Her arms around his neck, her chest rising and falling against his, her lips returning for more and more, her weight in his hands—all of it was amazing. She slipped her tongue into his mouth. Oh God. He loved her lips, her tongue, her ass.

  Her hair. He had to touch her hair.

  There was an empty stool at the bar. He stepped toward it and set her down, then shifted his arms up to her shoulders so he could slide his hands through her hair, her beautiful hair. So soft.

  Her mouth moved to his neck, and he tilted his chin up slightly as she licked and kissed him there. He shut his eyes and reveled in how wonderful it felt. Later he’d take her to bed. She’d let him, beg him perhaps; he was sure of it. He captured her mouth in his again and kissed her fiercely, needing to taste her again.

  If only they were alone now, he’d push her back on the bar and—

  They were in public. They were surrounded by people, and he was kissing her like it was only the two of them.

  He reluctantly stepped back, and she leaned against the bar, mouth agape.

  Someone clapped. Someone shouted, “Whoa.” But otherwise, the place was strangely quiet. Grant didn’t turn his head, didn’t want to see people looking at him. He wanted to sink into the floor. With Kristy. Who still looked shocked.

  It didn’t take long for the background noise of the pub to start up again, and as it did, his confidence faded. He was no longer certain of what she wanted.

  “So what do you think?” he said softly. Nervously.

  She didn’t reply but looked over his shoulder to their table. He turned to scowl at Brady. My woman. It had the desired effect—Brady scurried away.

  “Kristy.” Grant held out his hand. “Come here.” But she stayed on the stool, elbows resting on the bar behind her, hair slightly mussed from his enthusiasm. And now she was frowning.

  This was all wrong. She’d kissed him back like she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Hadn’t she? Brady was just to make him jealous. Right?

  She stood up and walked back to the table. Didn’t meet his eyes.

  No.

  Someone clapped him on the back. “Sorry, dude.”

  Sympathy from a stranger, a stranger who’d seen him kiss Kristy. He didn’t want that. So he fled.

  *

  The kiss had been, well, incredible. So incredible it rendered Kristy speechless. Truly an amazing feat. But as she sat on the stool recovering—it was the kind of kiss that required time for recovery—she realized he’d behaved horribly to Maya. So as much as she wished to tell him how thrilling the kiss had been and could they do it again, in private this time, she couldn’t because she was outraged on her friend’s behalf.

  She returned to the table. “I can’t believe he did that to you.”

  “But—” Maya began.

  “He was on a date with you, and he kissed me. In front of you, in front of everyone. Like you didn’t exist, like he hadn’t asked you out, bought you a drink—”

  “Kristy, you—”

  “What’s wrong with him? And here I thought he was well mannered.” Hell, and shy. But what he’d done, that hadn’t been shy. Kristy wished they’d been alone, because then…

  Focus.

  “I’m so sorry,” she continued. “I’m so sorry. After Justin, I wanted you to date a nice, decent man. But then Grant made out with me.” She wouldn’t blush. No, she wouldn’t.

  “So this has nothing to do with Brady?”

  “Of course not.”

  “And everything to do with you thinking he wronged me.”

  “He did wrong you.”

  Maya was…grinning. That couldn’t be right.

  “Grant never lied to me,” Maya said. “It’s no problem if you like him. And I think you do. You’re blushing, you know.”

  “Am not!”

  “Just listen to me for a minute. No interrupting. I’ll put my hand over your mouth if I need to. You know I will. I’ve done it before.”

  Kristy ran a finger across her lips to zip them shut.

  “When Grant called, he said he couldn’t go on a date with me because he liked you. Which, quite honestly, was a bit of a relief and not at all a surprise. But you were completely convinced he should go out with me. So our plan was to pretend we had a date tonight, and afterward I’d call you to say it wasn’t going to work. Then he’d be free to ask you out, and you wouldn’t feel guilty. But when you insisted on playing third wheel, we had to actually go on a fake date.”

  That was…Wow. “Can I talk?”

  “Not yet. I thought you might be encouraging Brady just to make Grant jealous, but—”

  “I don’t care. I’m talking now. You can’t shut me up.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Maya started to reach across the table, and Kristy swatted her hand away.

  “I wasn’t trying to make Grant jealous. I was feeling down because I was sure he didn’t want me, and there Brady was, so…” She shrugged. Where was Brady? “Are you saying that when Grant put his hand on your shoulder, he was just trying to make me jealous?”

  “Yes.”

  So he’d been perfectly honest with Maya. Kristy ran a hand through her tangled hair. Tangled because of Grant, whom she’d run after in just a moment. She got up.

  “When did you real
ize you wanted him for yourself?” Maya asked.

  “Yesterday, I guess.” That’s when Kristy had finally been able to admit it. But she’d been in denial for a while. “He came over to help me change a lightbulb.”

  Maya snickered. “I knew he went to your apartment yesterday, but I didn’t know why. What an excuse.”

  “I…The fixture. It was complicated.”

  “I’m sure it was.” Maya’s lips twitched. “How many—”

  “Shut it.” Kristy would never live this down. There would be lightbulb jokes for years to come.

  “So he came all that way to help you with a lightbulb.”

  “The cover on the light fixture.”

  “Whatever. All the way to your apartment. Yet it didn’t occur to you last night that he—”

  “It did, briefly,” Kristy said. “He didn’t try to stop me when I almost kissed him.”

  “You’re a dunce.”

  “But I knew he had a date with you, so I figured it was just my imagination. You’re right, though. I’m a dunce. A dunce who is going to desert you now. Apologies.”

  Maya waved her hand away from her body. “Go. He took transit here, so maybe you can catch him at the station. I can always talk to Brady if I need to. I think he’s cowering in the corner on the other side of the room. I’ll make up a movie called Poisonous Brick, and it’ll drive him nuts that he’s never heard of it. Good luck.”

  Kristy hurried out of the pub and ran as fast as she could to Queen Station—well, as fast as she could run in her new black heels. She looked up and down the platform, but he wasn’t there.

  Damn. She didn’t want to wait another minute to be with him after all this. The trip to his place would seem like forever. But it would be totally worth it.

  Chapter 7

  Grant had received a bottle of expensive whiskey for his birthday back in January. This seemed like a good time to open it. He poured himself a double shot of whiskey on the rocks, sat in his recliner, and picked up the novel he was reading.

  One of the books he’d bought the day he met Kristy.

  He tossed it onto the couch and gulped some of his whiskey. What an evening. He’d had to watch an irritating, poison-obsessed, beret-wearing, look-at-me-I’m-talking-about-existentialism sociology student try to pick up Kristy. Which made Grant so jealous that he’d kissed her. In public. Yeah, he’d done that, and he’d enjoyed it immensely, the way she responded, the promise of more. Until he realized everyone in the pub was looking at them. Worse, she’d been pissed afterward, which still confused him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone through such a rapid seesaw of emotions.