Chaser

by Staci Hart

  She climbed off of me and grabbed the apron from the ground. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  She headed to my room, and I cleaned up in the hall bathroom with every thought on her. And then, I made my way back to the kitchen to finish dinner, feeling lost and found, together and broken, all at the same time.

  I had the bread and bacon on the flat top and was busy slicing tomatoes, grateful for the mundane distraction, feeling a little more together by the time that Maggie returned looking fresh as a magnolia blossom. She snickered, her eyes on my ass.

  “I kinda forgot you were wearing that.”

  I smiled as I set the bread on plates and smeared garlic aioli mayo on them, then laid the chicken breasts on the top.

  She took a seat and sipped her wine. “Oooh, fancy sandwiches.”

  I topped them with tomatoes, spring mix, and bacon. “I can’t help it. I’m just a fancy guy.” I made my way over to the bar and set her plate in front of her. “Bon appétite, Madame.”

  “Merci beaucoup, monsieur.”

  I took a seat next to her, my ass sticking to the leather.

  She picked up her sandwich and adjusted her grip. “So what are you up to tonight?” She took a bite.

  “Actually, West and Patrick are coming over in about an hour.”

  Her eyes widened, and she froze mid-chew.

  “You have an hour. Don’t worry.”

  She made a face and started chewing again.

  “I’ll call Bobby to take you home.

  “I don’t need—”

  I shook my head and picked up my own sandwich. “I’m not letting you walk through the park in the dark.”

  “I can take a cab.”

  “Maggie. Just let me call Bobby.”

  She sighed. “Fine. What are you guys doing tonight?”

  “Playing video games. You?” I took a bite.

  “Well, I don’t have work tomorrow, so I’m not sure.”

  I wiped my lips with my napkin and laid it back in my lap. “What’s left on your sightseeing list?”

  “Chelsea Piers, Brooklyn Bridge, Coney Island, off the top of my head.”

  I smiled and shifted the sandwich. “Let’s go to Coney Island tomorrow.” I took another bite.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Who invited you?”

  I shrugged and swallowed. “You shouldn’t go by yourself. Plus, when it gets dark, that place looks like where survivors of the zombie apocalypse go for group meetings.”

  She laughed.

  “Seriously. I once saw a guy beating a bench with a cane, laughing like a maniac.”

  Her smile fell. “Maybe I don’t want to go after all.”

  “It’s fine during the day, and with muscle.”

  Maggie eyed me. “You’re telling me that you and I going to Coney Island wouldn’t be a date? How do you figure?”

  “I won’t buy you a single thing, not even a hot dog or a soda. I won’t even try to win you a giant pink gorilla. I could, just to be clear. But I won’t. I’ll be good. But the second we’re back here tomorrow night, I make no promises.”

  She laughed. “Sounds fun, but it’s a bad idea.” She seemed stalwart, but I pressed her anyway. I wanted to spend the day with her. I wanted to know if it would be everything I thought it would be.

  “Give me one good reason why we can’t go to Coney Island.”

  “Because …” Her face scrunched up. “Well, I don’t know. It just feels like a date.”

  “I already covered that one. What else?” I took another bite, playing it off, watching her.

  She was still trying to think of something, and I knew I had her. I went in for the kill.

  I swallowed and set down my sandwich. “You want to go to Coney Island. We’re both free tomorrow. There will be no making of moves, buying of cotton candy, or any otherwise sinister, predatory shenanigans. Come on, Mags.”

  Boom.

  She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “All right. It’s not a date, though.”

  A smile stretched across my lips. “Of course it’s not.”

  SORE LOSER

  Maggie

  HALF AN HOUR LATER, I skipped out of Cooper’s apartment feeling high. Constant surprises, that’s what being with him boiled down to. Just when I thought I had him pegged, he’d hit me with something that would send the dial spinning again. But as Bobby drove me home, I came down, and the second guessing began. I’d agreed to another not-date, this time at an amusement park.

  I had almost zero willpower when it came to Cooper.

  Coney Island on a spring afternoon with Cooper Moore. I sighed, feeling like an indecisive fool, needing to talk to somebody, but Lily was at the theater. I couldn’t call Brooke — it was too late on a Thursday when I know she had to wake up early. That only left Rose. I’d just have to play it off, be as vague as possible. No details, no names. Relief settled in at the thought of talking through it. She’d help me decide.

  Bobby dropped me off around the corner from Habits, and I thanked him before climbing out, feeling like I should have tipped him or something, even though I knew he’d never take it. A driver. So freaking weird.

  The night was cool and a little breezy as I walked the stretch to Habits and pulled open the door. Rose’s face swung toward the door, and she smiled when she saw me. Her black hair was in a high ponytail, her long neck exposed, cleavage bangin’ without looking overdone or showy.

  I waved and headed down to the end.

  She tossed a coaster on the bar, looking glad to see me. The feeling was mutual. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight, Mags. What are you up to?”

  I took a seat and pulled my bag off, hanging it on a hook under the bar. “Not much. I was out, but … I don’t know. I wasn’t quite ready to go home to an empty apartment.”

  She smiled. “I know the feeling. Maker’s and ginger?”

  “That sounds like heaven. Thanks, Rose.”

  “No prob.” She grabbed a glass and tossed in a scoop of ice. “How was your day?”

  “Weird. Today at work, I met Cooper’s mom.”

  Rose looked like something had exploded in her brain. “Oh, my God. That’s the charity she works for? You even told me the name and everything. I can’t believe I didn’t put that together.”

  “It’s fine. I mean, how often do you talk about Cooper’s mom?”

  She chuckled and poured whiskey into the glass. “True.”

  “So that was weird. And then I went over to Mr. M’s. We got into a little … kerfuffle.”

  Rose smirked and grabbed the soda gun to top my drink off. “Is that a euphemism?”

  I laughed. “No, although I got some of that too.”

  “At least one of us got laid.” She handed the glass over.

  “How long’s it been?”

  Rose sighed. “Too long.”

  “Have you thought about dating?”

  She leaned on the bar. “Of course. Just haven’t met anyone worth the risk.”

  I nodded and took a sip, knowing exactly what she meant. “What about a dating site?”

  “I’m not that desperate yet.” She leaned on the bar. “So what was the kerfuffle about?”

  “Oh, it was silly — a misunderstanding. I’m just paranoid, I think. I’m afraid to trust him, you know? I don’t want to trust anyone.”

  “I get that. I’m glad you guys worked it out, though. How long before his time is up?”

  “A week and a couple of days. He wants to go with me to Coney Island tomorrow.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a date.”

  “That’s what I said. I just don’t know if it’s a good idea. But he swore it was friends only, nothing datey like holding hands or kissing.”

  “Are you going to go?”

  “I told him I would, but now I’m not so sure.” I looked into her eyes and begged her to just decide for me.

  She nodded thoughtfully. “Coney Island is on your list, right?”<
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  “Yeah. I just … I don’t know. I’m only supposed to be banging him, you know?”

  “Right. What about upgrading from fuck buddy to friends with benefits?”

  I considered it. “I mean, we are friends at this point.”

  “And theoretically, you’re going to cut this all off in a week or so anyway, right?”

  “Right.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t see a problem here. Go on the not-date and have a good time. Then let him rock your junk out and feed you again. That sounds like a cycle I can get behind.”

  I laughed, feeling better. “Can I just have you make all of my decisions for me?”

  A laugh burst out of her. “I don’t know how well that would work out for you, but as long as you don’t get pissed at me when your life blows up like mine, then sure.”

  “Thanks, Rose. I’m having a hell of a time with this, which sucks considering it was supposed to be easy.”

  “You’ve been through a lot over the last few months, including a move to Manhattan. Don’t beat yourself up too much.”

  I took a drink and did just that — cut myself some slack. She was right. I wanted to go to Coney Island, and I’d have fun with Cooper like I always did. I could handle it. Friends with benefits. Easy.

  Cooper

  A couple of hours later, I was sitting in my media room with the lights out, flanked by Patrick and West as Scorpion and SubZero beat the shit out of each other in Mortal Kombat style digital surround sound. We each had our own leather recliner with built in speakers, and the ninety-inch TV was close enough to us that it took up our entire field of vision.

  The sound boomed as West’s player, Scorpion, yelled, “Come here!” then a splat as he stabbed SubZero in the face with his grappling hook and pulled, ripping his head off. We all groaned, laughing as blood splattered everywhere and the announcer said, “Scorpion wins!”

  West crowed. “Bring it on, Coop.”

  I grabbed the controller from Patrick and shook my head. “You may beat me on the basketball court, but this is my turf.”

  I joined in as Raiden and squared off against Scorpion. The round started, and we went nuts on each other. I dodged as he tried to spear me, shooting him with lightning before I flipped over him and kicked him the back.

  The click of the buttons punctuated hisses and swear words from West as we fought, but I just smiled, taking it easy on him to make him feel like he had a shot.

  “177 IQ and you play Mortal Kombat like that?” West snickered.

  I zapped him with electricity and made him explode.

  “Dammit, Cooper!”

  “Fatality,” I crowed along with the announcer.

  West eyeballed me.

  I shook my head, laughing. “You’re such a sore loser, dude.”

  Patrick snorted.

  “I am not. Fuck you guys.”

  We laughed even harder.

  “Y’all suck,” he tossed the controller at Patrick, who barely caught it.

  He sat back in the seat, smirking. “You’re so mad. Like Blaingry-mad or don’t-touch-my-sister mad.”

  “Well,” West huffed, “Blaine was a punk-ass fuck who hurt Lily, and if either of you touch my sister, I will beat your ass.”

  Patrick laughed and held up his hands. “Yeah, yeah.”

  I tried to play it cool, smiling crooked. “You know, some day she’ll meet a guy she really cares about, and you’ll have to find a way to accept it.”

  “I can accept whomever she chooses, as long as it’s not one of you two.”

  Patrick raised a dark brow. “That’s not what you said earlier about that guy Maggie works with.”

  Outwardly, I was still smiling. Inwardly, I was nuclear. “What’s the story there?”

  West scowled from behind his dark beard. “Apparently the chef at the shelter won’t stop asking her out.”

  “She told you that?” I asked, disbelieving that she’d offer up any information about a guy who was hitting on her to her brother.

  “Sorta. She told Lily.”

  Patrick chuckled. “You should have heard him asking Lily questions about the guy like he was a criminal. He works at a homeless shelter for chrissake.”

  I made a mental note to ask my mom about him, and Maggie too. For the sake of the rules, of course. “So did she agree?”

  “No. She keeps shooting him down.”

  Relief slipped over me, and I took the opening to press my point. “So you don’t want Maggie to date someone you don’t know, but you don’t want her to date someone you do know, either? Who exactly fits into that criteria?”

  West’s brow was low, his face pinched as he tried to explain himself. “Who would meet my expectations? It’s not all that complicated. A man who’s got his shit together. Someone who will love her and treat her like the goddamn queen she is. Jimmy squandered the gift he’d been given, and she’s not over it. I don’t care how much she pretends like she’s fine and dandy. She’s hurting and alone, and I won’t see her go through that again, so until she meets a man who will protect her and care for her, who won’t drag her down with him, I’ll keep being a picky, overbearing son of a bitch.” His jaw was set, eyes hard as he stood. “I need a drink. Y’all want one?”

  We nodded and muttered our agreement, subdued, and West blew out of the room.

  The second he was gone, Patrick spun his chair around to face me. “Do you have a thing for Maggie?”

  My face froze, along with my heart and my breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  But his eyes were wide. He leaned back in the chair and ran a hand over his mouth. “You’re seeing her.” His eyes bugged even more. “Wait. You’re educating her. Jesus fucking Christ, Coop.”

  “Seriously, where is this coming from?” I feigned confusion, apparently poorly.

  “I’m not gonna tell West,” he said, and I believed him. “It’s so obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

  I glared at him. “There’s nothing going on.” It was worth a final shot.

  He gave me a flat look. “Just fess up. How long has it been going on?”

  I rubbed my face and sighed, knowing I couldn’t avoid the conversation. “A long time, and not long enough.”

  He frowned. “What are you going to do? Is it serious?”

  “I don’t know, Tricky. I really don’t. She gave me all these rules, put a time limit on me. It’s supposed to be over soon, and even though I don’t know if I want it to end, I may not be able to convince her to agree to more than this, whatever this is. And even if we did want to, you heard what West said. He wants her to be with the exact opposite of me, on top of telling me for the fifty thousandth time to never even think about seeing her.”

  “That’s what West wants, but what does Maggie want?”

  I looked away. “I don’t know that either. What she says and what she does tell me two different stories.”

  “You’re the first guy she’s been with since Jimmy, and that was just three months ago. It’s risky, man. She’s not ready. And you’re serious about her.” He scanned my face like he could read me, shaking his head. “Wow, Cooper.”

  “Wow, what?” West asked as he entered the room carrying scotch for all of us.

  Patrick smiled and spun his chair to face the TV again. “Cooper was just telling me about this girl he’s banging.”

  West raised a brow and handed me a drink. “The one you’re educating?”

  Patrick snickered, and I nodded as I took it, avoiding eye contact, contemplating the ways I’d murder Patrick Mortal Kombat-style.

  “What the story there?” he asked and took his seat.

  “Not sure. Taking it one day at a time.” I took a drink and set my glass in the cup holder in the arm rest. “Come on, Trick. Time to die.”

  He smirked and picked up his controller, and I played the game without thinking, my mind on Maggie and the mess we were making. The mess I’d rather kick under the bed than clean up.
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  That night, after everyone had gone, I lay alone in the dark with the mess still on my mind, trying to untangle it knot by knot. For a moment, I wondered if it was worth it — the risk of West’s friendship — and for what? I didn’t even know if she really wanted me for more than just a distraction.

  But I pictured her face, thought of her smile, of those moments when she looked at me and saw more than I meant to show her. She felt more than she let on.

  I didn’t want to let her go, not for the bro code. And I knew that West would find a way to forgive me, if I could convince him I wouldn’t hurt her. That I wouldn’t treat her like I had every other woman in my life. If I could convince him of that, everything would be fine.

  The only other person who I needed to convince was Maggie.

  NOT-DATE

  Cooper

  I LEANED AGAINST THE MERCEDES the next morning, hands in my pockets, smiling like a fool as Maggie approached. Her blue V-neck made her eyes a shade brighter than usual, and I marveled at her for a moment — golden curls, rosy cheeks, pretty legs in denim shorts and white canvas sneakers that looked like they’d been loved. She was beautiful.

  “Hey.” The flush in her cheeks deepened.

  I pushed off the car and opened the door for her. “Hey, Mags.”

  She slipped in and smiled up at me, and I climbed in behind her. “How’d it go last night?” she asked as Bobby took off.

  “We played a lot of Mortal Kombat and drank scotch, so … perfect.”

  She chuckled and looked out the window. I wanted to reach for her, kiss her. Touch her. Anything. But, I’d promised not to like an idiot.

  “What’d you end up doing last night?” I asked, trying to keep my mind off of the fact.

  “Not much. Went to Habits to hang with Rosie for a bit and then headed home and crashed. I didn’t even read, which is weird. I’ve just been so tired lately. It’s hard going from doing nothing to having a ton to do.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  She rolled her eyes, amused.

  “Tell me how you like work. I feel like we’ve barely talked about it.”