I wanted to tell her I might be hurt if we hung out and she didn't put moves on me, but I knew what a bad guy I would be if I teased her like that. It was better for everyone if I just stuck with my decision to keep it platonic.
"Of course we can hang out," I said. "Hopefully I'll be up and around before too much longer, and we can make plans to go out. I can introduce you to some of my friends. I think you'd get along good with them."
"In the meantime can I come hang out here?"
"You mean like at my parents' house?"
"Yeah. Your mom wouldn't care."
"I know that. It's just that there isn't much going on here besides like watching TV or a movie or something. My parents aren’t really partiers and I'm just trying to get my leg better."
"Duh, Zack. I'm not looking for a place to shoot up and pole dance. I like watching movies. In fact, let's watch something now. Whatcha got?"
I glanced at the bookshelf that had a few DVD's from when I was in high school. I'd watched almost all of them since I'd been stuck at my mom's house, but there were a few I'd be into watching with her. I was able to get around a little bit on crutches, but I still had to be really careful. Meredith and I grabbed a snack from the kitchen before going back to my room.
We watched a movie, laughing and talking through the whole thing as if movie night was something we did all the time. It was the most fun I'd had in a long time. Once we agreed that we'd lay off the sexual contact, we were able to focus on other aspects of our friendship, and I found that I really enjoyed being around her.
She asked if she could come by after work a couple nights a week, and I told her I'd definitely be into the company. I warned her that I'd be leaving soon to move back into my own house since I was starting to get around.
"I'll just go to your house, then," she said.
Her tenacity was nothing short of adorable. The thing was, I wanted her to continue to come over for movie night.
I tried to play it cool. "You can stop by sometime if you want. I'm usually not doing much on weeknights because I train early every morning."
"Okay then, I'll come over sometime." She rolled her eyes at me. "Sorry, chief, but I don't think you'll be doing any training for a little while. But either way, you're stuck hanging out with me. I'm making it a regular thing, and don't act like you don’t want me to. I know you had fun, tonight Dawg."
"Did you just call me Chief and Dog in one sentence?"
"I called you Dawg, which is very different from Dog. And don’t forget, just text me your address when you move out of your mom's house so I know where to go."
Of course I agreed—because what else would I do, right?
"How often's this supposed to happen? Movie night, or whatever."
"A couple times a week," she said. "I'll always get in touch first to see if you can do it before I come barging in. But just so you know, I'll probably come by again before this week's over since it's just Monday." She paused and stared into space as if trying to remember her schedule. "Oh, are you going to the opening Wednesday?" she asked.
Our friend Gretchen was opening an art center for underprivileged kids, and the grand opening was in two days.
"No."
"Why?"
I looked at her like she was crazy for asking. "Because I'm not ready for that shit yet. I'm barely getting around. Rehab is painful and exhausting. I'm still living with my freaking parents. That should tell you something right there."
"I know. I'm just being selfish, and I want you to come."
"I'm working on it, but I'm not ready to get out like that yet." Meredith said she understood and put a quick, innocent kiss on my cheek before leaving my room and heading for the door.
****
Meredith came over two more times that week and at least as many times in the weeks that followed. I moved out of my Mom's house as quickly as I was able, but she continued to come by a few nights a week after work. We had a really comfortable friendship. I followed her progress on the soap opera, and could tell from what she told me that she'd be making a career out of it. We talked about everything. It was slightly awkward when she told me about going out and meeting guys, but I faked it because I didn't think I had any right to tell her what she could and couldn't do when she went out.
Several times, as the days and weeks passed, she mentioned the three-month thing, and from what I could tell, she still wanted it to happen. I had to admit… the more I got to know her, the more I was looking forward to sticking to the original plan. It was getting to the point where I hoped she wouldn't change her mind about wanting to do it, and that sort of freaked me out a little bit.
My leg got stronger by the day, and my scar had begun to fade. It was certainly still noticeable, but I was having an easier time accepting it once the color began to simmer down a little. My scar was a fairly regular topic of conversation with Meredith and I, and she always assured me that she liked how it looked. She would randomly reach up and touch a finger to it adoringly, making me feel like she was telling me the truth.
I started to feel like myself again at about the one-month mark, but it was more like six weeks before I made plans to go out with my friends. There were at least ten or twelve of us meeting at a club called Viva. Everyone liked going to The Yard, but they figured I'd want to avoid the memory of the accident. They were right. And besides, I really liked going to Viva. I knew I'd run into lots of people I knew there, and I was excited to show my face in public again.
I got a text from Meredith at about four in the afternoon the night we were all supposed to go out. I'd seen her a few nights before, for movie night, but we'd forgotten to talk about plans for the weekend.
Meredith: "Hey, are you going out with everybody tonight?
Me: "You know it. Are you?"
Meredith: "I forgot about it and made plans with Chelsea."
Me: "You guys can come with us."
Meredith: "You'll be with Gretchen and Bailey. Chelsea doesn't get along with them."
Me: "Then something's wrong with her."
Meredith: "That's what everybody says, but we get along okay. Plus she knows where all the good parties are."
Me: "We'll be at Viva if you want to come by."
Meredith: "I like that place. I'll see what the vibe is like. We might stop by."
Me: "Okay, have fun. Be careful."
Meredith: "Okay dad."
Me: "You're gonna be calling me daddy in about a month."
Meredith: "Can't wait."
I didn’t respond; I just left it at that.
She and I made flirty suggestive comments like that all the time, but comments were all they were. We'd managed to keep our relationship completely innocent. I was happy we'd decided to take things so slow, because I was really starting to like her as a person, and I'd hate to see her give away her virginity like it was no big deal—even if the person she was giving it to was me. In fact, even though my body was crazy about the idea of having sex with Meredith in one more month, I thought I'd probably decide to do the right thing and urge her to wait for someone who could give her more than just sex. Over the past weeks, I'd really grown to like her, and it was a tough thing, wanting the best for her while at the same time knowing that wasn't me.
Chapter 17
Meredith
Sometimes going out with Chelsea was like going out with a wrecking ball. She was a little much when she partied, but most of the time I was able to ignore her antics enough to go on making plans with her. Plus, she knew everyone in town, and I'd made a ton of connections through her over the past weeks.
It was Saturday night, and I was keeping my plans to go out with Chelsea even though most of my friends were meeting at a place called Viva. Zack told me that Chelsea and I should just meet them there, but I knew Gretchen and Bailey didn't like her very much. I liked to keep my life as drama free as possible, so I thought I'd probably just hang out with Chelsea and not even mention Viva.
I had my eye on this guy named
Charles who owned one of the bars Chelsea and I went to sometimes, and God love her, Chelsea convinced Charles to go out with us. I had to wonder where you take someone who owns a bar, but I thought maybe he'd have some ideas since he was a little older and had this determined demeanor. He just seemed like the type of a guy who had a plan. Anyway, Chelsea and I were supposed to be meeting Charles and one of his friends that night and I was so excited I could've jumped out of my own skin.
What happened to Zack? you ask. Zack was very much in the picture. He and I had become the best of friends over the last few weeks.
Not the ending you were hoping for? Sorry. As far as I knew, Zack and I were on track to have sex in exactly thirty-four days, but other than that, we were just really good friends. In fact, Zack knew about my interest in Charles, and wished me the best in my quest to find love.
And finding love had become my new quest. I knew I could find someone who could hold my interest once the challenge was over, and I thought maybe a handsome bar owner like Charles might just have a chance. I was no longer planning on trying to go out with guys to get into show business, so I thought I'd just go out to find love like a regular girl.
Before you ask why I was still planning on having meaningless sex with Zack and how that whole scenario still fit into the picture, I'll go ahead and answer that question. It's not just because I think I can't call it off (because I definitely could). I want to have sex with Zack because I just want to. He's smoking hot, for one thing, but he's also sweet and funny, and I trust him like I trust my own brother.
Why not go for more with Zack then, right? The answer to that was simple. He didn’t want more with me. Don't worry it wasn't just me. Zack didn't want more with anybody, and he had no qualms about admitting that. He was a self-proclaimed eternal bachelor, and I'd already promised him a hundred times that the sex we would have in a month would have absolutely no strings attached.
Chelsea picked me up at 9PM wearing a microskirt that made her look like she had legs for days. Who was I kidding? She did have legs for days no matter what she was wearing.
"Where are we meeting them?" I asked on our way to meet Charles and his friend.
Chelsea looked at me from over the console as if I was crazy. "At his bar, where else?" I shrugged with an implied excuse me, but she didn't see me because she'd already turned to put her eyes back on the road. She'd drifted into another lane, and had to swerve to avoid hitting someone. That girl could not drive, even when she was sober.
"I didn't know he was just going to meet us at his place. How's that gonna be any different than seeing him there when he's working?"
"It wouldn't be any different. But I never said we were going to stay at his place all night, I just said we were meeting him there. Why are you being such a spaz?"
"I'm not. I just have no idea what we're doing tonight, and I was asking a question. Why are you being so sketchy about telling me what's going on?"
"Because there's nothing to tell. We're meeting him and his friend at the bar, getting drunk, then going wherever they take us."
We didn’t talk much after that. She turned up the music, which made the uncomfortable silence totally disappear. We were both smiling like nothing had ever happened by the time we walked into Charles' bar. She and I looked good next to each other, and that was one of the things that made going out with her fun. We had similar taste in fashion, and the differences in our appearances complemented each other. We always turned heads when we went out together, although I assumed that Chelsea being one of the stars of TV's most beloved soap operas didn't hurt. We caught sight of Charles and his friend standing at a high table. They were both easy on the eye, although as we walked toward them I had the distinct feeling of relief that I'd be hooking up with Charles and not his friend.
Chelsea stepped in front of me as we approached their table. "Chelsea Harris," she said, sticking out a hand to the other guy.
"Nice to meet you Chelsea Harris," he said with an easy grin. "I'm Kain Daniels."
She turned and gestured to me. "Kain, I want you to meet my friend Meredith Blake," she said.
I stuck my hand out to shake Kain's, and before I knew what was happening, Chelsea was sideling up next to Charles as if that's who she'd come to meet. I watched in shock and awe as she put her hands seductively around his neck and pulled him down for a fake kiss on the cheek. Then she sat in the stool that was obviously meant for his girl.
Kain smiled at me and motioned to the bar stool next to him. I felt like I wanted to cry. Not because Kain was ugly, because he wasn't. But Kain Daniels was not supposed to be my date, and Chelsea knew that—or at least I thought she did.
"Chels, can you come to the restroom with me for a second?"
"You go ahead," she said, smiling at Charles.
"I wanted you to see that painting I was talking about," I said. There was a painting near the back of the bar that I really did love, and I was relieved to have thought of the excuse.
"You like the one in the back?" Charles asked proudly. "The guy who painted that is the bassist in one of the bands that plays here."
"Really? That's awesome," I said. But, really, I didn’t give a shit about the painting right then. I was just concerned with talking to Chelsea and clearing up that little misunderstanding about who should be on what stool. She followed me toward the ladies room near the back of the bar. I didn’t even point out the painting, since that had nothing to do with the real reason we went back there.
"I'm supposed to be meeting Charles," I said, turning to face her once we were in a quiet spot. I wasn't about to beat around the bush.
She gave me the condescending look I'd seen her use on other people. "I was planning on letting you have him because my girl Keisha told me that guy Kain was the hottest guy she'd ever seen, but obviously he was inferior to Charles by a long shot. I'm gonna have to tell Keisha she must be on crack." She stopped talking and looked at me as if that should explain everything and we should just go back to the table and get on with our evening.
I didn't say anything. I just sat there and stared at her through narrowed eyes.
"What?" she said, laughing in disbelief. "Did you actually think I'd let you have the hot guy even though he's clearly a better match for me?"
I stared at her, speechless.
"Let me teach you one of the laws of the universe, sweetheart. When you're on a blind date, the hottest guy and the hottest girl automatically pair-up. It's just a given. I mean, what else was I supposed to do? Charles was obviously the alpha out there, so it's only natural that he and I should—"
"You think you're better than me?" I asked, my voice an octave higher than it should have been.
"Don't put it like that, Meredith. That makes it sound rude. I just thought you'd know the rules to double dating, and I thought we both knew our place."
"Our place?" I said, getting more pissed by the second.
"I mean, it's kind of obvious, Meredith. I'm a TV star. You get people like me coffee. I make a lot of money; you have a one-room apartment. And, one other thing I think I should mention, since it's self-inflicted, is your hair. You know I have a major advantage based on just hair alone, right? I mean even if you were my equal on all those other levels, which you aren't and will never be, I'd have the upper hand based on hair alone. I never understood why you cut it like that when guys like long hair."
I didn't say a single word to her. I just turned and walked toward the nearest door. She called after me a few times, but I could tell they were sarcastic, fake attempts to get my attention. I found a side exit, which allowed me to reach the outdoors without having to see Charles and Kain. Chelsea could just have them both. She probably wanted that anyway.
I called a taxi and leaned against the brick wall of Charles' bar waiting to be picked up. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to cry, and not because I was sad. I was just so pissed at her that the tears rose up, burning my eyes, and threatening to fall.
I almost we
nt straight home to sulk while I watched movies and ate junk food. I couldn't let myself do that, though. If I let Chelsea's words break me down to the point where I missed out on life, then she won. I knew she wasn't a superior person. I knew I had a lot going for me. So, after a bit of an internal pep talk, I told the cab driver to drop me off at Viva. No way I'd let Chelsea Harris drive me to junk food.
I told the bouncer at Viva I was there to meet Collin and Zack. I knew they'd gotten there before me, because I saw a photo on Instagram that Rachel just posted. It was just her and Collin in the photo, but Zack had already told me he was going with them. I took great comfort in knowing I'd see Zack that evening. No matter how strong I was determined to be, Chelsea's words stung, and I felt like I'd enjoy a hug from my boy Zack.
The bouncer let me in without hesitation, giving me a look like I didn't even need to explain about Collin and Zack because he would have let me in either way. His blatant approval of my looks made me feel a little better, and for the first time in the last thirty minutes, I wore a genuine smile.
I walked through the club, trying to find one of my friends. I figured if I didn't see one of them soon, I'd just text someone to find out where they were. I caught sight of my brother and his wife along with a few of our other friends at a table near the right hand side of the dance floor, and went to them without hesitation.
Before I even made it there, I saw several of our other friends sitting at the table next to my brother's. My friend Emily was at that second table, and I went to her instead of my brother. I knew I could spill my guts to Emily about Chelsea without her repeating it to everyone else. I certainly didn't want Gretchen or Bailey to find out about it. I really didn't feel like hearing how they'd tried to warn me to stay away from Chelsea in the first place. Gretchen was the first one to catch sight of me. She stood up to hug me, and I realized how easy it was to tell the difference in someone who was genuine like Gretchen and someone who was fake like Chelsea. I hugged her back, thankful for friends who weren't total bitches.
Three Months and You're Mine (In Too Deep) Page 12
