by Sienna Ciles
Chapter Six
Stefan
I woke up with a bit of a headache, still more than a little bit embarrassed by the almost-tryst I’d had with a twenty-year old in a closet while her father was trying to find her. Hell of a way to jump-start Valentine’s Day. I unplugged my phone from the charger next to my bed and saw I had about half a dozen text messages.
Hey, man, we’re still good for tonight, right? That had come from Mike, one of the guys I was supposed to be going to dinner with, along with their girlfriends. Most of the rest were from the other guys, confirming that we were all good for the evening. Nate added in that his girl was excited to meet my girl, and I groaned, closing my eyes. I hadn’t told any of them about my newly-single status, and I wasn’t about to break the news to them the morning of. Of course, I knew that would just make it awkward when I showed up alone, but if I told them about it ahead of time, they’d just make the whole night into some kind of pity-party for me.
I texted the guys back, telling them that I would definitely be there for the big night and kept going through the rest of my messages. Hey, Stef, I emailed you the schedule for the next few gigs. Let me know once you’ve gone over it. That was from Katie, my manager. I opened up my email on my phone and skimmed the schedule she’d sent me and texted her back that it all looked good to me.
I rolled over onto my back to stare up at the ceiling. The almost-sex with Stacy had been enough to get my motor running pretty good, and I’d thought about going back into the bar after she’d escaped to have dinner with her parents, but I’d known better, even if I hadn’t wanted to know better. So, I’d just gone home and had a long, hot shower, a shot of bourbon, and called it a night.
But lying on my back, the frustration from the night before came right back to me, and I could feel my cock starting to wake up more than my brain had managed to. It had been a few months since my breakup, and it had been weeks since my last hookup with anybody; I’d noticed that while they were all more or less great in the moment, the next day I didn’t feel all that satisfied, so I’d stopped hitting on chicks at the bar and more or less put myself on the shelf until I figured out what I wanted to do.
Right now,, what I wanted to do with myself was hook up. I could feel the tension along my groin, the same as it had been the night before. Blue balls were largely a myth, but I could feel the aching and it seemed real enough to me. Get up and do something, take your mind off it. The longer I lazed around in bed, the more I would want to just get myself off. I pushed myself out from between the covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed, standing up in the boxers I’d gone to sleep in.
As I went into the kitchen, I saw the flowers I’d gotten from my mom the day before and smiled a bit to myself. That girl was cute. What was her name again? I’d met so many women the night before that I couldn’t remember which name belonged to whom, but I definitely remembered the girl who’d been so sarcastic and so hot. I had put my number down on the receipt. Thinking about it, I wasn’t sure her name had even been on the receipt, anyway. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t end up calling me. If she did, and agreed to go with you, you wouldn’t even have to tell the guys you were single. You could just play her off as your girl without comment. But then I would have to get her in on it. Somehow, I thought that she wouldn’t be all that against it, as long as I played it as a kind of joke on my buds.
I got myself some coffee, went back into the living room, and saw the card she’d read to me. I’d known it was from my mom before she’d gotten around to reading it, but it had been fun watching her face as she realized how she’d gone wrong in her assumption. I thought to myself that it would actually be a lot of fun to spend Valentine’s Day with her: with someone who didn’t like how commercial the holiday was. We could do it ironically, get to know each other a bit. It might even be nice to go on a date where I didn’t plan on necessarily getting laid at the end of it.
But she wasn’t going to call me, and I didn’t have her number. I turned the card over and saw the name of the florist’s shop, and in smaller print under that: If you have any questions or concerns about your bouquet, please call us. It had a number, and I grinned to myself. She might not be willing to call me, but I could always call her.
“Sweet Sentiments florist shop, this is Nora,” a woman on the other end of the line said as soon as the call connected. “If you’re trying to order flowers for today, I’m afraid we’re all sold out already.”
“No, I had a bouquet delivered yesterday,” I said.
“Is there a problem with it?” The woman sounded worried, and from her voice, I thought she was probably about my mother’s age; I definitely didn’t want to stress her out any more on a day that I was sure was already pretty stressful.
“No, but I wanted to see if I could speak to the woman who delivered them,” I said.
“Well, we have one delivery girl, Sabrina,” Nora said.
“Is she working today?” I could feel my skin crawling with anticipation.
“Yeah, she just got back, actually, but she can’t stay on the phone long,” Nora cautioned me.
“I promise I will be quick,” I told her. “I’d just love to talk to her.”
“Okay,” the woman said. I heard her call for Sabrina and there was the sound of the phone moving around, background noise of a bunch of people very busily working.
“This is Sabrina, what’s up?” She sounded just as hot over the phone as she had in person—maybe even a little more so.
“Hey, Sabrina, this is Stefan,” I said. “You delivered a bouquet to me yesterday, remember?”
“I delivered about two hundred bouquets yesterday, Stefan,” Sabrina said. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”
“It was your last bouquet of the day, I think,” I told her. “We had a nice chat about how much you think Valentine’s Day is a con.”
“Oh! Yeah, I remember you,” Sabrina said.
“I was wondering if you gave any more thought to my offer to come out with me and my paired-up friends tonight,” I said.
“I don’t know,” Sabrina replied. “I was pretty much just planning on getting home and getting drunk. Maybe going out with my girlfriends.”
“It would be a really big favor for me if you’d come along,” I told her. “My friends don’t know that I’m single. If you’d help me pull the wool over their eyes, I would be grateful forever.” Really, the main reason I wanted to see her again was because I wanted to see her, and preferably not in her work uniform, but I needed a good reason that wouldn’t trip off her alarms.
“And what would I get for doing you a solid like that? Because unless it’s better than drinks and a movie-marathon…”
“A really good dinner, an amazing dessert, drinks. It’ll be a pretty awesome night, since us guys have been planning it since before Christmas,” I said.
“And it’s all paid for already?” I could hear the temptation in Sabrina’s voice.
“All of it’s either paid for or will be paid for. You just have to show up looking your beautiful self, and play my girlfriend,” I replied.
“Okay, but like I said, I met a lot of people yesterday, and even more today,” Sabrina told me. “How am I going to know you?”
“I’ll have… I’ll have one of the roses from the bouquet you brought me,” I said, glancing around the room until my gaze fell on the arrangement. “Sound like a plan?”
“It does sound tempting,” Sabrina said.
“Come on, beautiful,” I said, making my voice as convincing as I possibly could. “I’d owe you a favor on top of the good food, and my friends and their girlfriends are actually really decent.”
“Okay, I’ll come,” she said finally. “Where is this going down?”
“Why don’t you meet me at Giordano’s at seven-thirty, so we can get our story straight before my friends get there? I’ll have one of the roses from the bouquet, so you’ll know who it is, and then we’ll just enjoy our nigh
t.”
“I think I can do that, but I’m going to bring someone with me. She won’t be part of the dinner, but I don’t know you. You could be an axe murderer, for all I know.”
“As long as your friend hangs back, I’m happy to do whatever it takes for you to feel safe,” I said. “Deal?”
“Deal,” Sabrina replied. “Listen, I gotta go. But this is actually shaping up to be a pretty exciting Valentine’s Day. Thanks for that.”
“Thank you for bailing me out,” I said, smiling to myself. “See you at seven-thirty.”
“You got it!” Sabrina hung up at that point and I set my phone down, thinking about what I could do for the rest of the day. It wouldn’t take me that long to get ready, but I should probably try and get a workout in, do a few other things before it came time to start showering and dressing up for the big night. I’d introduce my friends to Sabrina and tell them she was my girlfriend, and maybe at the end of the night, she and I could enjoy ourselves in private.
Chapter Seven
Emma
Becky made it to my place at about two, after Gretchen and I had finished off the bagels and coffee and had our slasher-movie nap. We’d already cracked the prosecco I’d bought before and made ourselves the first batch of mimosas to pregame into the afternoon before our night out. The way we’d figured it when we’d been planning, we were going to drink during the afternoon, get an Uber or Lyft to go out to a bar, and continue the party there.
Gretchen was still in the middle of trying on my clothes for her date when Becky arrived. “What’s going on? Are we playing dress-up like teenagers?”
I laughed and poured her a mimosa to “catch up” with Gretchen and me. “No, Gretchen is selling us out and going out on a date with David,” I said, rolling my eyes. I was still a little irritable about Gretchen bailing, but I’d let her take a shower, and I’d agreed to let her borrow an outfit from me for her date, so she wouldn’t have to go home early.
“Gretchen!” Becky shook her head, wagging her finger at our mutual friend.
“But it’s David,” Gretchen protested. “You know how long I’ve been after him, and if I don’t go out with him tonight, I just know he’s going to end up meeting some floozy at a bar somewhere and there goes my chance to go out with him at all.”
“If your dream man would end up seriously dating someone he met at a bar on Valentine’s Day, instead of a girl he’s known is interested in him for months, then he’s kind of a shit dream man,” I pointed out.
“Well, what about your dream man? You had a chance with him,” Gretchen countered. “Just because you’re too much of a coward doesn’t mean I should be.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I stared at her in confusion.
“The guy from the book!”
“The guy from the book?” Becky looked at me in confusion.
“Stefan?” I shook my head. “No way.”
“So, explain this whole situation to me again,” Becky said.
I’d told her about it in text messages the day before, but it was easier to go over it in person, while Gretchen changed out of the outfit she’d already tried on and chose another one from my closet.
“Okay,” I said. I got up and found where I’d left the book on the coffee table in the living room and brought it over to where Becky sat. “This is the guy I met,” I said, pointing to the figure of Stefan, his back showing, on the cover.
“I think you’ve been working too hard,” Becky said sarcastically.
“Not the character, not even who I might think the character was based on,” I said. “The guy who posed for this picture.”
“And he was an ass?”
“He was the cocky kind of ass who just sort of knows he’s hot and doesn’t care,” I replied.
“You know, I really think you should have taken him up on the offer,” Gretchen said, coming out of my bedroom.
“No way,” I said, shaking my head.
“Well, which one of us has a date for Valentine’s? And who doesn’t?” Gretchen raised an eyebrow at me. She did a quick twirl in my dress and smoothed it down over her body. “I’ll take this one. I promise I won’t let David rip it off of me,” she said, giving me a little wicked grin.
“Well, Becky isn’t letting me down,” I told her tartly.
“Actually, she is,” Becky said, grimacing.
“What?” I turned to stare at my other best friend.
“Liam has a whole thing planned,” Becky said apologetically. “I was going to tell you about it last night but…”
“But you thought it would be easier for me to take a few hours before we were supposed to go out?” I scowled at her. Both of my friends were abandoning our plan to spend Valentine’s Day together. I knew that Becky was seeing Liam, but they hadn’t even remotely been serious.
“Liam wants to take things to the next level,” Becky said, cringing slightly. She knew I was pissed. “I know, I know, but can you please just at least be happy for me?”
I sighed and closed my eyes. I wasn’t drunk, but I’d had enough mimosas to feel impulsive. I definitely wanted to kick both Gretchen and Becky out of my apartment and tell them that if they liked the men in their lives so much they could just take them for manicures, and have ladies’ night with them, and ask them to bring them donuts and coffee on the first days of their periods.
“I’m pissed, I’m not going to lie,” I said. “I feel really pretty damn betrayed right now.”
“It’s not like you didn’t have an opportunity to go out with someone on Valentine’s,” Gretchen said, emerging from my bedroom with a pair of my shoes on her feet. I was tempted to tell her to go out with David in the clothes from the night before, see how much he liked her then. But that would have been petty, and I knew it.
“I had the opportunity, and I turned it down,” I countered. “Because this was important to me.”
“It was important to us, too,” Becky said.
“But obviously not important enough to actually stick to plans you’d already made,” I pointed out. “Just... you know what? Just go. If you’re going to be ditching me tonight, you might as well be ditching me right away, anyway.” It was sulky, and I knew it, but I couldn’t help it. My two best friends were leaving me all alone on Valentine’s Day, and not only that, but they were ditching me for guys—ditching plans we’d made a month before.
Gretchen and Becky cleared up the glasses from their mimosas, and I could tell they were both trying to come up with some way to cheer me up, or get me to stop being mad at them, but I wasn’t ready to be there yet. Tomorrow, maybe even the next day, I would be ready to forgive them, but in that moment, I was just angry that my friends were putting guys who weren’t even properly their boyfriends ahead of me.
They said their goodbyes, and I left the table to throw myself on the couch, feeling thoroughly sorry for myself. I muttered to myself about needing to find new friends, and how I would just start hanging out with Sabrina and Ginger more, even if Ginger was a bit older than me. I’d let Becky and Gretchen know how it felt to be ditched, and then they’d be sorry. Especially when their boyfriends ended up dumping them, and they had to get through it on their own.
“God, you’re being petty,” I muttered to myself. For all I knew, David and Liam would turn out to be “the one” for each of my friends, and they’d have beautiful memories about their first Valentine’s Days with them. I pictured myself in a gaudy bridesmaid dress, walking down the aisle with some faceless friend of Liam’s or David’s, since I wouldn’t have a boyfriend of my own by then and felt even bleaker.
“No more alcohol,” I told myself. “You’re just going to get yourself into an even worse mood if you keep drinking.” I sighed and flipped through the channels on the TV for a few moments. Bast came to comfort me in my loneliness, purring as she curled up just under my breasts and kneading at my upper abdomen.
I heard my phone ping, announcing a text message, and Bast hopped off me with an indignant
mew, skittering across the living room to her cat-tree. I got up and padded over to where I’d left my phone plugged in; maybe it was Gretchen or Becky, deciding they felt so badly about ditching me that they’d canceled their plans.
Instead, the text message was from Ginger. Hey, sweetie! Why don’t you and your friends come down to Giordano’s? Sabrina got asked out by one of her deliveries yesterday, and I’m going to make sure that she isn’t meeting an axe murderer. I snorted, shaking my head at that. But it was actually pretty tempting—right on cue, in fact. The answer to my problem of a lonely Valentine’s night in.
Isn’t three already kind of a crowd? I wasn’t sure what Ginger meant by going to Sabrina’s date, and I thought again about Stefan. Well, I’d made a different choice from Sabrina’s, but that was her business. Maybe the guy she’d met during her deliveries the day before had actually been charming and nice.
Oh, no! Nora is coming, too, Ginger replied. We’re both going, and we’ll hang back once she meets with the guy, just to make sure everything’s good. Besides, we both decided we deserve a night out after making it through Valentine’s. That was a good point, and even though I hadn’t worked that day I figured I deserved a night out as much as anyone else. After all, I’d been going in early and leaving late all the week leading into Valentine’s Day.
When are you all going? If it was a date, I figured it would be dinner, and it was only about four-thirty.
He wants to meet her at seven-thirty, so Nora and I plan to get there at seven, Ginger sent back in a text. I saw the pending symbol, then another message came through. Sabrina’s going to get there just before seven-thirty, and you could come then, too. We can talk about whoever it is she’s meeting.
I thought about it. I had to admit, part of me wanted to wallow in self-pity a bit. But I knew it wouldn’t make me feel any better about Gretchen and Becky. I might just as well go out as stay in, and I might even have a good time. I’ll come! I tottered a bit from the mimosas I’d had and decided that I would take a nap first.
