by Lacey Black
“Oh my God, Abs, look at that one! I think that’s a bong he’s holding in his profile pic,” AJ says, causing Lexi to laugh, while I groan. Drugs definitely are a deal breaker for me.
“Gross,” I grumble, sliding past him. “Wait look at this one.”
“Oh, he screams bad boy. Click him,” Lexi exclaims.
“His ears are pierced. A lot,” I notice.
“It bet he has other things pierced too,” AJ chimes in, her green eyes lighting up with something dirty.
“Hey, don’t knock piercings. Some of them are really…effective,” Lexi adds, her own smirk plastered across her face.
“There’s a story there, I can tell. Spill,” AJ directs.
“Motorcycle boy in high school had a piercing,” Lexi whispers before breaking out into a giggle fit.
“Really?” I ask, completely curious now about the whole piercing thing. I mean, is his, you know, pierced? A nipple? Why am I blushing? Why do I find that thought completely hot?
“Oh, yeah. They’re…nice,” Lexi adds with a wink.
A gasp mixed with a laugh is muffled from somewhere off to the side. I glance up and see Levi standing in the doorway. “What are you ladies doing?” he asks, walking into the room. I forgot he was coming over for dinner tonight, but mostly I feel slightly guilty for looking at guys right now. And that’s just plain silly, right? I have nothing to feel guilty for.
“Internet dating!” AJ exclaims, happily.
“You’re gonna try that crap? I would have thought you wouldn’t waste your time and energy on that bullshit, AJ,” he says, stepping up behind me. I can practically feel the heat radiating from his muscular body.
“Not me, big guy,” AJ teases with a knowing smile. “Abby.”
I swear he chokes on the very air he breathes.
“Abby?” he asks, glancing down at me with hard eyes. “You can’t do that,” he says automatically.
“Why not?” I ask, defensively.
“Because…well, you’re…it’s not safe.”
“I’m not meeting up with all of these guys, Levi. There’s no reason for you to freak out and go all big brother protective,” I tell him.
“Besides, when the time comes for her to meet up with these guys, we’ll make sure she’s in a public place and that one of us always knows where she is,” AJ reasons.
“Guys? As in more than one?” he asks, glancing down at me again. There’s something strange in his features today. He looks scared or worried, twisted with hurt and rage. But he’s doing his best to camouflage it with curiosity.
“Of course, more than one. You always start with many and weed them out until you find that one perfect date,” Lexi adds.
“That’s the name of the site. PerfectDate.com,” I tell him. “It’ll be good for me to meet new people. Lord knows I don’t meet anyone working from home every day.”
“Why do you need to meet new people? You have your sisters. And me,” he says, seeming completely at a loss, which just makes me feel weird and uncomfortable. I didn’t expect him to turn into my dad at the thought of me trying Internet dating.
“Exactly, Levi. I have my sisters and you. I can’t date any of you,” I remind him.
“Or have sex with any of us,” Lexi mumbles to AJ.
“And Abs needs to have the sex, Levi,” AJ adds loudly, causing a whole new level of mortification to set in.
“Let’s not talk about that,” I beg before turning my attention back to the monitor.
Ignoring all conversation around me, because really, who needs to listen to her sisters and male friend talk about her sex life, or lack thereof, I finish flipping through the matches the website gave me. At the end, I have five prospective matches to work with.
I’m already exhausted by the time I return to my own profile, that I really want to just shut down the computer and dig into the greasy, messy chicken wings that I can smell in the kitchen.
“Oh, look, Abs! You have your first message,” AJ notices, pointing to the little envelope icon that shows the number one over the top, indicating that I have a message.
“I can look at it later,” I suggest, ready to power down.
“No way. I want to see who it is,” Lexi says, and I swear I hear Levi grumble behind me. When I glance his way, though, he’s as cool and calm as ever.
“Fine.” Clicking on the icon, the message pops up. It’s from GraveDigger413, one of the cuter guys I saved. His message pops up on the screen, and I can feel my sisters leaning in on both sides of me to read over my shoulder.
Hey, AngelEyes. Noticed your profile pic first but then my attention was pulled to the fact that you love to binge watch 80’s rom-coms. Me too. Would love to chat more with you.
Levi snorts over my head, clearly reading along with everyone else in the room. “What the fuck ever. He’s only saying that shit to get in your pants.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, turning to face him. My agitation with him is reaching an all-new record high. “So, what’s he bullshitting me about? The fact that he noticed my profile pic, or the fact that he likes the same movies as I do? Because I’m pretty sure you like watching those kinda movies with me too. So if he’s lying, then are you?” I ask, standing up and crossing my arms.
“Burn!” Lexi yells, causing AJ to bust up laughing.
“I’m not lying, I do enjoy them.”
“So it must be the fact that he thought I was attractive? What, because I’m not a model, then I’m not attractive?” I can’t stop talking. Why can’t I stop?
“That’s not what I meant. You’re putting words in my mouth,” he defends, but it falls on deaf ears.
“You know what? I’m putting myself out there for the first time in my entire life, and I could really use your support right now. If you can’t handle that, then you should just go.”
“You want me to go?” Hurt reflects in his hazel eyes, which look greener today than ever before.
“If that’s what you want.” Crossing my arms again, we stare at each other in a silent standoff.
“This is like foreplay,” AJ whispers to Lexi.
“I wish I had popcorn,” she replies quietly, but of course, I hear both statements.
Levi turns towards the door. “I’ll be back.”
“You’re leaving?” I panic, my words rushed. Did I really piss him off that much with this whole dating site thing?
He stops at the doorway and turns back to face me. Ignoring my sisters, he keeps his eyes trained only on me. “I forgot something at my place. I’ll be right back, I promise.” He throws me a quick grin before walking out of the room. I hear the sound of my door closing a few moments later and finally exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“That was kinda hot,” AJ mumbles.
“Stop it. We’re friends. We still fight and argue, just like we all do.”
“That was like sexual tension at its finest,” Lexi smirks.
“Agreed.”
I glare at AJ.
“Whatever. Anyway, it’s time for you both to go. I’m gonna get ready for dinner and then it’s a big night of watching television and eating chocolate chip cookies,” I say, leaving my office and hoping they both follow.
When I reach the living room, both sisters hot on my heels, I turn and face them.
“Promise me you’ll communicate with some of those guys. You don’t have to meet up with them right away, but just talk. You know, get to know them,” Lexi says.
“Fine. I’ll check my profile for contacts again before I go to bed.”
“Good,” AJ says before leaning in and giving me a tight hug. As soon as she pulls back, I’m engulfed in another equally big embrace from my twin.
“Call me tomorrow and let me know how it’s going,” she instructs.
“Yes, we’ll expect daily updates,” AJ adds.
“Daily? Can’t I just text when something actually happens?” I ask.
“That too, but for now, I want to know how it’s going e
very day,” AJ replies.
Conceding, I finally say, “Fine.”
A few minutes later, my sisters are gone and I’m left alone in my apartment. All around me I see traces of Levi, from the slow cooker of yummy chicken wings on the counter to the fresh tray of my favorite cookies on the table. Since he’s being a butt, I go ahead and help myself to a cookie. Taking a big bite, I groan out load, the warm gooey chocolate melting over my tongue. This man is deadly in the kitchen.
Walking over to my television, I find the movie I’ve been thinking about watching tonight. It might not be an 80’s movie, but it’s still one of my favorites. Levi’s not a fan, but since he’s on my shit list today, he no longer gets a say. Tonight, after we eat, we’ll devour cookies and watch 10 Things I Hate About You.
Oh, Heath Ledger. I miss you.
I pop the movie in the DVD player and cue it up, ready to go. Then I make my way back into the kitchen and get ready for dinner. I can’t help but wonder if this whole dating thing is really a good idea or not. I guess it’s worth a try, right? I mean, if it doesn’t go well, I could close my profile and walk away. I’m not out anything but a fifteen-dollar per month service fee. I want to try it, but don’t want it to cause problems between us. He’ll either learn to deal with it or he won’t.
Right?
Right. My decision made, my resolve set, I make sure the wings and taco dip are on the table with plates and napkins. There’s no need for silverware because one of the joys of wings is eating them with your fingers and then licking them clean afterwards. I grab two beers from my fridge and place them on the table with the food. Glancing down, I realize I’m all set.
Now, where the heck is Levi?
Chapter Six
Levi
I must pace the entire length of my apartment fourteen times before I find myself in front of my own computer. Grabbing the laptop, I head into the living room. First thing I notice when I glance at the mirror above the couch is that my hair is all crazy and standing on end from grabbing it and running my hands through it while I practically walked grooves in the carpeting. Next thing I notice? The flush of annoyance and possible rage coursing through me. You can practically see it radiating from my body.
Why would she want to date? She doesn’t need to date. At all. She’s perfectly fine sitting in her apartment all day, working her ass off, and then hanging out with me at night. What’s so wrong with that?
Then my mind flashes back to the things Tuck said. How would I feel if she met someone who treated her the way she deserved to be treated? Fuck. Me. She’s going to meet someone who’ll treat her the way she’s always deserved to be treated, isn’t she? Isn’t she?! My head pounds and my heart gallops. This can’t happen.
She’s my friend and it’s my civic duty as part of the friend code to watch out for her. So much can go wrong on those stupid dating sites. What if she chats with a guy who seems perfect, then he turns out to be a serial killer who wears women’s skin as clothes? No, not likely, but the danger is still very much alive and out there.
And my danger? I’m at risk of losing my best friend.
Fuck that.
Powering up my laptop, I know exactly what I have to do. There’s only one way to keep her safe from becoming some psycho’s skin suit and that’s to monitor the situation and keep a close eye on her. It’s the most logical thing any good friend would do, right?
Fuck no, I’m not going to tell her. Would you?
She’ll get all pissy and claim I don’t trust her enough to do this on her own. She’ll accuse me of being overprotective and slightly stalkerish. But it’s what I have to do. Keep watch on my girl – my friend, excuse me – and make sure she doesn’t fall victim to the woos of Internet dating.
First thing’s first: set up my own profile.
I type in PerfectDate.com into my browser and wait for it to pop up. My leg is bouncing so much, my computer practically jumps off my lap. Running my hand through my hair once more, I click the button to sign up. It only takes me a few minutes, but I’m in, in no time.
Profile name? Has to be something she won’t recognize. Can’t be my name, right? I mean, I’m not that big of a dumbass. Got it! She used her favorite song, so I’ll use mine. SimpleMan. Everyone knows Skynyrd, right?
Up next, profile pic. Well, again, can’t use my pic, even though she used a really great picture from last Christmas. It was actually one I took, believe it or not. We had just finished up our gift exchange and were getting ready to head to her dad’s place for lunch. I’m always invited to every family function, and try to go to every one when I’m not working. My own family isn’t nearly as close as hers, and my parents had planned on a late Christmas dinner. Therefore, it was completely logical that I go with Abby.
Anyway, back to my point, I took that damn picture with my new camera. She bought me an expensive Nikon since I was always complaining about the quality of pics on my phone. She helped me set it up and then let me snap a few pics of her while we were messing around. No – not that kinda messing around. I don’t take pics during those times. Well, not anymore. Always comes back to bite you in the ass. Know what I mean?
Yes, I’m off track here. Back to my point. I took that damn pic. I own the rights to it and I didn’t give her permission to use it as a profile picture on some fucking dating website. She looks stunning and radiant in the picture, which is why I sent it to her. Now she’s using it against me.
Traitor.
Well, I can’t use my own picture or she’ll know it’s me, so I grab a folder on my desktop and strum through some of the band photos. There I find a close-up shot of my favorite guitar. It’s not one I use on stage, but one that sits in my spare room on a stand, and only brought out for special occasions.
Like when I’m playing for Abby.
I quickly upload the photo to my profile, and fill out the rest of the garbage they require to set up shop on their stupid site. I don’t need to lie to make sure I’m compatible with Abs; I already know I am. I just have to be vague enough that she won’t realize who she’s dealing with.
Once I get myself all squared away, I wait while it pairs me up with other singles in the area. Sixty-five matches. What the fuck? Okay, so I might have left some of the categories a little too vague. I’m not interested in sixty-four of them, but I have to click through them until I find my girl. My friend.
Not bad face, click past. Huge knockers, click. Bird-beak nose, click. I run through them all, taking in their profile pic, but not reading anything about them. I’m not here to date, I’m here for my friend.
After what feels like ten thousand clicks, I finally find her. Her gorgeous face smiles at me from the screen and my heart flops around in my chest like a fish on the sand. Her hair is down, hanging loosely around her shoulders, just the way I like it best on her. Her green eyes radiate excitement and happiness. You can’t tell it from the picture, but she’s holding the hardback book with her name folded in the pages. It’s a specialty shop I found online that does all kinds of book projects. She loved it.
Again…moving on.
I click the like button on her profile and pull up a message. It takes me only a few moments to think of what I want to say before I hit send. There. Sent.
Feeling much better and lighter about the whole situation, I shut down my laptop and get ready to head back to Abby’s. Before I can open my door, I remember that I was supposed to have come back over here for a reason. Checking my place, I find a bottle of bourbon on top of the fridge that I pull out for special occasions. No, this doesn’t constitute as one of those times, exactly, but if I go back over there empty-handed, then I basically just look like one of those douchebags she’s going to be talking to on the Internet.
Bottle in hand, I head back over to her place.
Letting myself in her front door, I walk into the kitchen like I don’t have a care in the world. She’s standing there, wringing her hands together, and wearing a look of concern on her face. “Everything
okay?” she asks, worrying that lush bottom lip of hers between her teeth. I almost groan.
And my cock turns to stone.
“Yep, great,” I say, a little too chipper for my own liking, turning slightly to cover my hard-on.
“Are you sure? You were gone quite a while for only grabbing a bottle of alcohol,” she says, causing me to glance down at the bottle in my hand. Of course she’d notice that I was gone for roughly twenty minutes and only returned with booze.
God, I’m a dumbass sometimes.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I had to use…the bathroom.” Really?! What. The. Fuck.
“Oh. Well, you could have used mine,” she says meekly.
The only response I have to the statement is that I needed the privacy of my own bathroom, but I really don’t want to focus on my shitting habits right now. “Anyway, I brought this. To celebrate.”
“Celebrate?”
“You know, the whole…dating thing. That’s a big step. Good news. Really great news. Fantastic, actually.”
She just looks over at me with concern and disbelief in her eyes. “If you say so. It’s no big deal, really,” she says casually, walking over to the kitchen table. She has it all set and ready to go. Setting the bourbon down on the counter, I join her.
Walking her way, I stop directly in front of her. Unable to stop from touching, I grab a hold of her recently cut hair. It’s a small change, only a couple of inches of length, but I noticed right away. It’s the extra colors that have me all beside myself. They somehow bring out her green eyes even more. “You changed your hair,” I say, not letting go of that strand.
“Yeah,” she says, her voice gravelly and deep.
“It looks…great.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
Eventually, when the touch borders on creepy, I drop her hair and take my seat. “I had lunch with Tuck today,” I say as a way to steer the conversation to anything other than the elephant in the room: dating.
