Anything but Love (Wingmen #3)

by Daisy Prescott

  I hit send.

  Movement outside the window catches my eye. The underage girls have returned. They’re eating ice cream and giggling like typical teenagers.

  “Looks like you can’t even scare away little girls, O. What kind of troll are you?” I point over my shoulder.

  “I blame their parents for not raising them right. Instead of Team Gomez, they should be Team Stay in School.”

  I chuckle over his rant.

  “Wait, did he say Gomez?” Carter asks, leaning around me to see out the window.

  A chill crawls up my spine and settles its grip around my neck.

  I move to glance over my shoulder and Carter pushes me away.

  “Don’t look. The table in the corner all have their phones out and aimed over here. They’re pretending to take selfies, but I’m pretty sure they’re taking pictures of your ass again.”

  Of course I look. One of them blushes and ducks her head. Her more confident friend waves. She’s still holding her phone and it flashes as she takes a picture.

  I’m sure my confused expression makes me look extra hot.

  “We need to get out of here,” I whisper to Carter.

  “Why? You feeling shy?” He tips back his glass and drinks.

  “Roslyn and Ashley’s messages make sense. They were trying to warn me.” I keep my voice low and hushed. I don’t want to spook any of the women and create a stampede.

  A text chirps on my phone the same time Carter’s buzzes.

  From Ashley:

  *On my way. Don’t freak out. Be nice. Smile.*

  From Roslyn:

  *You’ve been Kinneared. Happy? Now go home.*

  “What does Kinneared mean?” I ask as I tap the image to expand it. “Oh, that answers it.”

  Flipping my phone over, I show Carter a screenshot of the two of us on our barstools behind half a woman’s blurry face.

  “Who took that?”

  I subtlety jerk my head backward. “The woman in the picture is the same one who just smiled and waved at me.”

  “Oh shit. It’s already online?”

  “Yep. With the location and the hot ass guy hashtag.”

  “Time to take advantage of Olaf’s side exit.” Carter pulls out his wallet and tosses some bills on the bar. “Thanks for your hospitality, O.”

  I yank him back onto his seat. “We can’t announce we’re leaving. They’ll follow us. You want to lead them to our house?”

  “What are we supposed to do? Sit here and wait for the mob to form?”

  I text Ashley and pray she is on her way.

  “Where are you parked?”

  “Over by Good Cheer Thrift.”

  “We’ll never make it.”

  I saw a horror movie once where the heroes wander into a bar in the middle of nowhere that just happens to be occupied entirely by vampires. George Clooney can play me in this version, too.

  Right now peace exists because they haven’t figured out we know they know who we are. For now, rules of society dictate we respect each other’s privacy and personal space. But once one of them crosses the line, mayhem.

  I’ve seen it happen to boy bands and teen movie idols. They can’t go anywhere without a social-media enabled flash mob forming. People get trampled. Clothes get ripped off bodies.

  This is the zombie apocalypse: Cougar Style.

  “Keep smiling,” I tell Carter.

  “Why?” He grins back at me.

  “So when these pictures appear online we look happy and relaxed.”

  “You look like you’re grimacing through a rectal exam.”

  I soften my smile.

  “Are you two having a staring contest?” Olaf swipes the bills off the bar. “I’m keeping all of this as a large tip. I blame the overflow of estrogen in here today on the two of you. First the mistletoe incident and now this. I swear I will ban you two and your antics for life.”

  “Olaf, we need your help.” Leaning forward, I cup my hand around the right side of my face closest to the window.

  “Son, you need a professional for the things wrong with you.”

  “Can you distract the ladies at the tables for us while we slip out the side door?”

  “You know the point of dining and dashing is to run out before you pay. Not after.”

  “Please? I’ll owe you big time. Free coffee and Carter will mow your grass all summer.”

  “Hey, don’t pull me into this.”

  “You’re in it, three-fold.”

  He flinches and I know he understands my threesome reference.

  “I’m going to walk toward the bathroom and out the side door. Carter, give me a couple of minutes and then follow. O, you chat up the ladies. Turn on your charms.”

  “I’m always charming. You two could learn a thing or two about how to flirt from me.”

  As I laugh, I feel the weight of stares on my back.

  “Be right back.” I stand and casually stroll toward the hall, ignoring how the conversation stops when I walk past the tables.

  Once I’m in the dark hallway, I pause near the men’s room. I push open the door, letting the light spill into the hall and wait for it to close again. On my tiptoes I sneak down the hall into the darkened dining area. I quietly push the backdoor open and slip out.

  Right into a woman’s body.

  “SO THIS IS how you ran away from me the first night I came here?”

  I’m so relieved it’s Cari, I hug her.

  It’s not enough.

  I press my mouth against hers, capturing her lips with mine, inhaling her familiar scent while my tongue tastes her.

  Beneath the outside stairs to the apartment above, I back her up against the railing of the landing. She grips my ass and squeezes, pulling me against her. We spin and stumble until I have her trapped against the door, caging her with my body and slipping my leg between hers. I suck on her tongue, and she grinds herself against my thigh. Tangling her fingers in my hair, she tugs my face closer to hers.

  I’m completely absorbed in her. Everything else disappears into a blur and white noise.

  The sounds she makes while I kiss her drive me wild. Soft moans and sighs escapes her mouth. I pull back to breathe, kissing her soft jaw as I inhale oxygen and her scent. Her hands move to my shoulders and down my arms. I link our fingers and lift our joined hands to my chest, pressing her hand against my racing heart.

  When someone inside pushes on the door, Cari crashes into me. Our teeth gnash together and I taste copper.

  “What the hell?” Carter’s voice carries through the crack in the door.

  Cari lifts her hooded lids and stares at me like she’s seen a ghost. Her lips are plump and red. Friction from my beard reddens her cheeks and jaw. She looks completely mauled.

  “Ohmygod.” She hides her face behind her hands.

  “Let me out.” Carter knocks on the wood.

  I pull Cari out of the way so he can open the door.

  “Oh, thank God you’re here, Cari. Do you have your car?”

  Stunned, she silently stares at him.

  “You drove here, didn’t you? We kind of need a ride. Are you with Ashley?”

  She nods in response to his questions, but keeps her focus on me.

  “Okay. Why are we standing here? Isn’t the whole point of creating a diversion and sneaking out the backdoor to escape unnoticed? I think if we hang out here, we’re going to be trapped as soon as the ladies realize we’ve left.”

  Carter continues speaking as Cari and I stare at each other. My chest rises and falls with my rapid breath. Inhaling, I try to calm my racing heart. I reach for her hand and she slips away.

  “Right. Ashley’s parked up the street at the Inn. We need to go down to the beach and around.” She lowers her giant sunglasses.

  “Carter, you go first. It’s better if we split up.”

  He nods and gives me a thumb’s up. He probably thinks I’m setting this up so he has a couple of minutes alone with Ashley.

 
; That’s a bonus.

  I get a few more minutes alone with Cari.

  He jumps the railing and jogs down the ramp to the beach walk. Once he rounds the corner and is out of view, I lean toward Cari again.

  “We can’t.”

  “What? Why not? We just were.”

  “We need to focus on getting you out of here, not making more of a mess.” She peeks around the corner to the front of the bar and the street. “I don’t see anyone, let’s go.”

  She walks down the ramp and away from me. I’m confused by the sudden change from making out to strangers.

  I jump the railing like Carter and fall into step alongside her. At the bottom of the hill we follow the path to the left. The wild blackberry bushes and other plants on the hill hide us from the street and the Inn up ahead.

  I reach for her hand and she pauses. “At least let me hold your hand down here where no one can see us.”

  With a slight bow of her head, she agrees.

  “You never responded to my text.”

  “About not believing everything I read online? Did I need to?”

  Ouch. “I’m not talking about Wikipedia. I meant the threesome nonsense Gomez posted.”

  She shrugs. “You were dancing with two other women when we met.”

  “And I left alone. You flipped me off as a good-bye. Believe me or not, I remember the moment clearly. It’s burned on my brain.”

  “It’s none of my business.”

  I squeeze her fingers. “It’s not true. In Cabo or ever.”

  “It shouldn’t matter what you did before we met. Clearly, I made some questionable decisions in my past.”

  “Maybe it shouldn’t, but it’s important to me you know the truth. I’ve never come close to a threesome.” Time to go all in. “Hell, I haven’t even had a girlfriend, singular, in years.”

  I see the surprise flash across her eyes before she flattens her features into disinterest. “Oh.”

  We walk in silence down to the seawall. I take it as a positive she’s still letting me hold her hand. “Thanks for coming to get us.”

  She lifts a shoulder, but doesn’t look at me. “I was with Ashley when Roslyn called screaming that you were inciting a mob.”

  “I think she overreacted. Seven women, plus a gaggle of teenage girls doesn’t count as a mob.”

  “I’m sure more were on the way. Those were only the scouts.”

  “It was beginning to feel like From Dusk to Dawn.”

  “The vampire western with George Clooney?”

  “Exactly that. It was a delicate dance between predator and prey.”

  “It must be wild to be the fodder for cougar fantasies.”

  “And the gays. Don’t forget the gay porn sites.”

  “You’re very proud of those. You keep reminding me every time this comes up. Are you trying to tell me something?”

  “What? No! You should know the answer to that. We’ve had sex. I obviously enjoyed it, and I thought I made it good for you.”

  “You could be bi.”

  “No. Nope. Never questioned my sexuality. Girls and always girls.”

  “Then why the bragging about gay porn?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Always.”

  “I take it as a huge compliment.”

  “Millions of women and Gomez aren’t enough for your ego?”

  “There’s more to it than that. The gays have a much higher standard for men’s bodies. Yes, I know I’m stereotyping, but the gay gaze is all about super fit, well-groomed male bodies. Muscle definition, abs, the V, and of course, the ass.”

  “Women like those things.”

  “Yes, but have you ever thought it’s because you’re sharing the same fantasy men?”

  “I don’t like men who are too perfect. Makes me self-conscious about my own body. Sure, I’ll look, but for real life? No way.”

  “Same for most guys. We don’t want to have sex with a doll. We want a real woman with all the imperfections and quirks that make her unique.”

  “Try telling that to the women of LA and Southern California. Or the men for that matter. They’re all about the fake boobs, plumped lips, and super smooth faces.”

  “Men are simple. We want you to be happy. If bigger boobs make our woman happy, who are we to deny them? But if she’s changing her body for a man, no one will be happy.”

  “Maybe up here in the land of lumberjacks and flannel.”

  “We know a few things about loving women right.” I could be talking about sex, but my mind goes to John and Tom, and their relationships. “Hailey and Diane seem pretty happy.”

  “Disgustingly happy. They won the jackpot when it comes to men.”

  “More fish in the water.” I gesture to Saratoga Passage alongside us before sweeping my arm in front of myself and finally resting my palm on my chest.

  “Too bad I don’t live here.”

  “Who says you can’t? Maybe not with Lois, but there are plenty of other places.”

  “This isn’t home.”

  “Could be.”

  She drops my hand. “Stop being nice to me.”

  “I can’t. I like you.”

  “Don’t. Life’s easier when you’re my enemy.”

  We reach the steps that will take us back to the street level.

  “I don’t want to be your enemy anymore. I never did. If you think about it, I was always on your side. From the very beginning.”

  She wipes under her sunglasses.

  I want to pull her to me and wrap her in my arms, never letting her go.

  I don’t get the chance. She races up the stairs and our moment ends.

  Ask and ye shall receive, pretties!

  I’m sitting here sad and blue about no news from my favorite HAG and voila!

  You come through for me in a MAJOR way.

  We’ve hit the jackpot!

  Not only did you find HAG, but bonus prize!

  The elder Kelso was with him.

  Oh my heart eyes.

  Two for the money, two for the show, two to get ready, and two to go.

  Joy squared!

  I’m not sure who decided to make barstools without backs, because they’re really not comfortable (at all), but they do allow for unobstructed views.

  Magnificent, amirite?

  God bless us all.

  Especially you Team Gomez girls who fearlessly stalk, I mean, monitor the vast interwebs for all of us.

  Check out the rest of the pics in the slideshow. If you have some of your own, be sure to use our special hashtags so I can seeee them and love them and pet them and call them mine.

  Smooches,

  Gomez

  DESPITE CARTER AND I asking nicely, Ashley and Cari turn down our offer to hang out at the house.

  I hope Cari’s rejection is for show. Optimistically delusional, I text her as soon as I’m inside the house.

  She doesn’t respond.

  Probably can’t get a strong signal.

  I convince myself that’s why hours later I still haven’t heard from her.

  Checking my messages, I see the text was delivered and read. Two hours ago.

  I think about driving up to Greenbank, but I’m not sure she’s there. She could be hanging out with Ashley. Randomly showing up would be more than obvious. It would be awkward and a sure fire way to expose whatever Cari and I have going on. Whatever that is. If anything.

  I don’t hate her anymore. And I’m pretty certain she doesn’t loathe me. We’re no longer enemies, but I’m not sure if we’re friends. Or more.

  Feeling stir-crazy, I tell Carter I’m going to the warehouse. He responds by glancing at the clock on the stove, staring at me for a beat, then going back to watching TV.

  “See you later,” I tell him on my way out the door.

  To prove to myself I’m not going to track down Cari, I head toward Langley. As I drive downtown, I peer into the windows of the Dog House. It’s busy, but the mob of women appears to have left. A
crowd gathers around the entrance to the Clyde for the evening movie. Among them I spot a familiar ponytail.

  Why would Cari be going to the movies?

  I pull into the lot behind the Star Store and park, before cutting through the narrow alley to the street. The line for tickets is shorter and I don’t see Cari. I scan the street and peek into the gallery next door to make sure she’s not milling around. Not seeing her, I buy a ticket and stroll into the single screen theater. The rows are crowded, but a few empty seats are scattered around. I locate Cari and the vacant seat next to her. We can’t talk during the movie, but we could sit next to each other for a couple of hours. Kind of like a date, but not. I step back into the lobby to buy popcorn, Milk Duds, and a pop from the small window behind the ticket booth.

  Fully loaded with my movie viewing trifecta, I make my way down the main aisle until I get to her row. I hide my face behind the bag of popcorn while I squeeze in front of the couple seated close to the aisle.

  I sit next to Cari and lift the popcorn in her direction. “Popcorn?”

  She doesn’t respond.

  Turning my head, I focus on her. “Milk Dud? Pop?”

  “How did you find me?” She shakes her head. “Wait, are you stalking me?”

  “Nah. Felt like seeing a movie.” I munch a handful of popcorn.

  “What movie is playing?”

  Shit. I didn’t even bother to read the title when I bought my ticket.

  “Does it matter?” I ask.

  “Who randomly goes to the movies and doesn’t know what’s playing?”

  “This guy right here.”

  “Impulsive much?”

  “You should know by now I’m all about impulsive. I texted you earlier and you didn’t respond. When I drove down the street, I saw you and decided a movie sounded like a great way to spend the evening.”

  “So you are stalking me?”

  “Randomly running into someone isn’t stalking. I’m happy to share my popcorn with you, but you’re going to have to ask nicely for the Milk Duds.” I shake the box at her before tucking it below the popcorn bag on my lap.

  “I hope you enjoy the movie,” she whispers as the lights dim.

  The trailers don’t give me any indication of what the movie can possibly be. I scan the crowd and try to guess based on age and gender. There are a few guys, but the audience is mostly women. Reaching into the popcorn bag, Cari leans into me. “I hope you brought extra napkins.”