Anything but Love (Wingmen #3)

by Daisy Prescott

  “Why?” I whisper close to her ear, surrounded by her scent. It’s been only a few hours and I miss her. I could easily pick up where we left off earlier today. Maybe make out like teenagers during the movie. I turn my head and skim my nose along her jaw, testing to see if she’s thinking the same thoughts I am. Her proximity creates a long list of potential mid-movie activities. Too bad she’s not wearing a skirt.

  Clearly not thinking about making out with me, she sits upright and munches on popcorn. “In case you cry.”

  I really should’ve looked at the movie poster.

  From the opening scene, I know I’m in trouble.

  This is a chick movie. A romance.

  Cari crosses her legs and her foot bumps against my leg. She taps my calf. I see her smile from the corner of my eye.

  If I have to guess, the couple is doomed from the beginning. She’s American, he’s a wealthy Brit. They’re from opposite worlds. He’s a shallow asshole, but somewhere inside him is a good man only the heroine suspects exists. His family won’t support their love. He leaves her and breaks her heart.

  I stuff Milk Duds in my mouth to keep from commenting with snark.

  The music soars and dives with emotion. I could close my eyes and figure out the type of scene based on music alone. I’ve watched enough horror movies to recognize the cues.

  I stretch my arm behind Cari’s seat and rest my hand on her shoulder. For a moment I stare at her profile, studying the perfect slope of her nose and her full lips until she clears her throat and points at the screen.

  Busted.

  On screen, the couple reunites and has sex. No, they make love. It’s tender and full of loving stares. There are tears in her eyes. And his.

  They’ve lost years together. So much time wasted apart.

  Of course, their happy reunion is short.

  Oh, and here comes the hospital scene.

  She has cancer.

  They’re fucked.

  Time is running out for the lovers.

  It’s the beginning of the end of their happiness.

  She fades. He begs and bargains with the devil. It’s hopeless. She’s dying. None of his money can stop the cancer or turn back time to reclaim the lost years.

  Tears on screen create sniffles to my left and my right. I silently pass Cari a napkin, which she takes without comment.

  I’m fine.

  Until he gives a heartfelt eulogy for the woman he loved and lost.

  Seeing a man cry about losing a woman he loves hits me in the gut.

  I suck on my straw to distract myself.

  Shit. I got salt in my eye from the popcorn. I remove my arm from her shoulders and rub the back of my knuckle along my lashes, careful not to dislodge my contact.

  Now I have something in the other eye.

  I’m not crying.

  Cari hands me a napkin.

  She’s crying.

  My eyes sting and I use the napkin to remove the salt. I don’t remember rubbing them, but somehow I have salt in both eyes. I probably have butter all over my fingers and face.

  The credits roll after a eulogy about love and loss. The song is upbeat—the same one mentioned at the funeral. Fresh tears spill out of Cari’s eyes to my right. To the left, the woman blows her nose.

  Most of the theater appears to be crying.

  I clear my throat.

  Crying women make me uncomfortable.

  I’m sitting in a theater surrounded by them.

  I’d take a horror movie over real emotion any night.

  “Was it everything you hope for?” Cari asks, elbowing me.

  “It wasn’t what I was expecting.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “That’s not the right word. Hope. I was hoping for a horror movie.”

  “Disappointed?” She steals my box of candy and eats the last two Milk Duds.

  “Not at all. Overall the evening has been a huge success.”

  “Really? How?”

  “This could be considered a date.” I grin at her.

  She lifts an eyebrow. “In what world?”

  “We saw a movie together. We went fifty-fifty on the tickets. I bought the snacks.” Standing, I notice the theater has emptied around us.

  “Nice spin.”

  “I can drive you home if you need a ride. That’s what men do on dates, right?”

  “I have my car.”

  “You could give me ride. Being a modern woman and everything.”

  “What about your car?”

  “I can run down and get it in the morning.”

  “You mean literally run, don’t you? How far is it?”

  “Not far. Five miles.”

  “Five miles is far.”

  “Do you run?”

  She stares at me. Silence extends between us. The same teenager who sold me the snacks enters the theater with a dustpan and broom.

  “Let’s continue this conversation outside.” I step into the aisle and gesture for Cari to walk ahead of me. Once we’re on the sidewalk, I scan the street for cougars hiding in doorways and behind cars. Actual cougars would be less scary in the streets of Langley.

  “Are you sure it’s safe for us to be seen together?” Her voice is colder now than during our exchange inside the theater.

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  Again, she gives me her signature stare.

  “What?”

  “Earlier? The whole mob of fangirls?”

  “All I remember about earlier is kissing you behind the Dog House. In fact, we could return to the scene of the crime and continue. Or find a dark spot by the seawall for more privacy.” I raise both my eyebrows hopefully.

  “All you remember is the kissing? Not what I said? Or anything about how I’m feeling?”

  I look around and realize I’m in a hole I don’t remember digging. She’s obviously still emotional from the movie. Now’s probably not the best time to talk about feelings.

  Is there ever a good time for feelings and “talks”? Not that I’ve found.

  “Where are you parked?” I ask. “I’ll walk you to your car and we can talk along the way.”

  She points across the street. The Mini sits about thirty feet away.

  “Short talk,” I say. Inside my jacket pocket, my phone vibrates with a text. I ignore it. A few seconds later, the vibrating continues, indicating a call. No one ever calls me unless it’s important. “Excuse me.”

  Phone in hand, I read the screen.

  “Hi, Mom.” Maybe if Cari thinks I’m a nice momma’s boy, she’ll drop her defenses around me. To Cari, I hold up a finger and point to the phone, silently asking her to not leave.

  “Oh, good. I caught you. I tried Carter and his phone is off.”

  Great.

  “Where is he?” If Mom is calling me after trying my brother, there’s only one reason for the call.

  “I have no idea. He was at home when I left.”

  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “It’s fine.” I exhale a resigned sigh. Whatever “talk” Cari and I were about to have will have to wait at least until I collect my dad and get him home safely. By then, it’ll probably be too late.

  “Mel called.”

  “I’m in Langley, but I can swing by the Legion right now.”

  “Are you out on a date?” Her voice is full of misplaced optimism.

  I know exactly how she feels.

  “I went to the movies with . . .” I pause, staring into Cari’s wary eyes, “a friend.”

  Frowning, Cari breaks eye contact.

  “Oh. I thought the only thing playing was that romance based on that book.”

  “It is.”

  “Oh.” Mom sounds as confused as I feel about seeing a romantic chick movie by choice.

  I need to end this conversation quickly. “I’ll head over now.”

  “Thanks, honey. You can tell me all about the movie when you get here.”

  I say good-bye and e
nd the call. “I’ve got to go, but the offer to walk you to the car still stands.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Sure. Just normal stuff.”

  “Is Carter okay? I swear I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.” Her unspoken admission of guilt hangs off the end of her sentence.

  “But?”

  “You’re standing three feet away from me.” She shrugs. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

  “It’s fine. Listen, can we talk tomorrow? Come by the warehouse for breakfast. I’ll make you a real coffee and feed you.”

  “Sounds like the ideal morning after.”

  “If you’re offering, I can come over as soon as I run this errand.”

  She absentmindedly brushes her index finger across her bottom lip.

  I wait for her to come to a conclusion.

  “That’s probably a terrible idea.”

  “Sometimes terrible decisions lead to the best outcomes.”

  “Like naked cliff diving?”

  “Like inviting me over tonight after I bought you Milk Duds and watched a chick flick with you.”

  “Because I owe you?”

  “No, because me not checking out the movie was a terrible decision in need of a good outcome.”

  “It wasn’t terrible. The book was better.”

  “I’ll trust you on the book since I’ll never be reading it.”

  “Men always complain women are complicated. Perhaps if they all read a romance or watched more films aimed at women, they’d have a clue how women think and what they want.”

  “We could always ask the source.”

  “Ask? Men? You won’t ask for directions.”

  “I said could.”

  We could stand on the sidewalk all night and argue. Or talk.

  Or make out.

  Sadly, I can’t. Not tonight.

  It’s normal life and I’m needed to pour my father out of the bar of choice tonight.

  Resigned, I clasp Cari’s hand and tug her off the curb between two parked cars. “Come on. I’ll be the romantic hero and protect you until you are safe inside your car.”

  “Such a grand gesture. Thank you.”

  “Sarcasm is your first language, isn’t it?”

  “Second. I didn’t begin speaking it until after I’d mastered the basics of English.”

  “Really? I’d have thought you’d been born spouting snark and dry insults within minutes.”

  “High praise. Thank you.”

  “Of course you’d take that as a compliment.” I swing her arm and bring her hand to my lips for a kiss.

  “There’s an art to sarcasm. Not everyone understands it or can master the subtle nuances.”

  Now I’m laughing. “Between biting wit and cutting bitchiness?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I guess with me you fall into the latter.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Come on. The night we met, you were a bitch, and I don’t use that term often.”

  “We danced. We shared shots. The beginning wasn’t too bad.”

  “Nice spin.” I use her words from earlier.

  With her other hand, she pulls her keys from her pocket and leans against her car. “It’s true.”

  I don’t want to stop touching her or talking, but I need to go.

  “Come for breakfast tomorrow and you can tell me all about your version of meeting me. Be sure to mention how handsome and hot you thought I was. Several times.” I lean down to kiss her, but her hand on my chest stops me.

  “I haven’t said yes.”

  “But you haven’t said no.” I press her hand against my heart. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  THE MINI’S HEADLIGHTS follow me down Bayview road. I should’ve taken Maxwelton and avoided being trailed by Cari. I know she heard me mention the Legion on the phone, but I doubt she’d stalk me.

  I turn right into the driveway of the log building and head up the hill to the parking area.

  When I get out of the Bronco, I spot the Mini at the edge of the lot.

  Shit, meet fan.

  Attempting to appear casual, I stroll over to Cari’s car with my hands shoved in my jacket pockets.

  She rolls down the window. “This doesn’t look like your warehouse.”

  “It’s not. It’s the American Legion for Veterans of Foreign Wars.” I point at the sign.

  “If you have a girlfriend, you should say so and quit lying. I didn’t figure you for the asshole cheater type, but clearly I have no sense when it comes to guys.” Her words rush out and slap me.

  “Girlfriend?”

  “Woman you’re seeing. Lady friend. Regular.” She flails her hands inside of the small car.

  “Are you jealous?” I say the worst thing.

  “You. Argh!” She slams her hands against her steering wheel, honking her horn.

  I reach through the window and still her hands, silencing the noise.

  “I’m not seeing anyone. Nor do I have a girlfriend. Ask Carter. Ask Dan. Or Hailey. Ask any one of your new friends. They’ll happily tell you about how single I am.” Scowling, I fold my arms.

  “Then why do you keep lying to me about going to the warehouse?”

  Defensive anger rises in my chest. “Maybe because I don’t fucking want you to know where I’m going. Or what I’m doing. Maybe it’s none of your business what I do with my life.”

  Even though she hasn’t said another word, I keep going off on her. I figure I have a few minutes before someone shows up or leaves the bar. I need her gone before all the ugliness of my life comes crawling out from underneath a rock.

  “You showed up here on the island. No one invited you. You stayed and hung around my friends. Quit stalking me. You told me you’re leaving. So leave.”

  Ouch. My words hang in the air.

  I’ve really fucked it up this time.

  Whatever has been building between us lies in ruin by the bomb I’ve dropped.

  “Go. Just go.” I don’t wait for her reaction before I stalk toward the door.

  After being a complete asshole, I doubt she’ll follow me inside.

  Or ever speak to me again.

  Well done, asshole.

  Who’s the jerkface now?

  I wait a few days before I decide to swing by Cari’s and ask forgiveness. Swing by is a stretch given I have to drive completely out of my way to get to her apartment.

  I don’t want her to hate me. Understatement of all understatements.

  Knowing I’ve fucked up doesn’t help me to grow a pair and apologize.

  Lois appears to be MIA when I arrive. The curtains don’t move and I don’t have the creepy feeling of being watched.

  As I pass the Mini, I notice bags and luggage fill the tiny backseat. An uneasy feeling settles in my gut.

  Too bad I don’t live here.

  Simultaneously, I knock and open her door. “Hello?”

  Stepping inside, I scan the room. A small duffle sits on the floor near the sofa. Otherwise the room sits devoid of anything Cari. No object indicates she’s ever lived here.

  “Hello?” I step farther into the apartment. “Cari?”

  Noise draws me down the hall. The shower is running. Not spotting Cari, I assume she’s in the bathroom.

  Naked.

  The devil on my shoulder tells me to strip and join her.

  He’s the same one who told me to leave my shorts on the rocks and dive naked. I also blame him for the outburst outside the Legion.

  In other words, not the best advice.

  Or is it? How mad can she be if we’re both naked?

  While I mull over the cons, the water shuts off.

  An opportunity missed. Rather than feel disappointed, the decision leaves me feeling more mature.

  I don’t always have to give into my impulses.

  I don’t always have to be the naked clown.

  Giving Cari her privacy, I sit on the edge of the bed to wait for her.

  When the bathroom door opens, I
’m not expecting Cari to be naked.

  Or to scream.

  The volume of her screaming startles me and I fall off the bed. Sprawled on the floor, I scramble to right myself.

  “It’s me. Erik. I’m not going to hurt you.” I hold up my hands to prove I’m not armed. Although, I’m not sure what kind of weapon she’s expecting me to be carrying.

  Her screaming finally stops.

  “What are you doing in my bedroom?” Too occupied with being shocked, she hasn’t covered herself.

  I’m not going to lie. I take full advantage of checking out her body, memorizing details.

  “I let myself in. Again. Your door was unlocked. Again.” I arch my left eyebrow in challenge. “You’re lucky Lois hasn’t called the sheriff with all of your screaming.”

  “She’s not home.”

  “Good. I don’t need to get arrested today.” I run my tongue over my bottom lip, thinking about all the fun we could have with her naked.

  Her eyes widen in response and she gasps. “I’m naked.”

  “Wonderfully, beautifully naked.” I slowly stand up, not wanting to frighten her with any quick movements.

  Before I can stop her, she covers both breasts with one arm and her small patch of hair with the other hand. Clearly uncomfortable with me seeing her naked, the action hits me in the gut.

  “Why are you here? You made it clear you don’t want anything to do with me.” She wraps a towel around herself.

  “Are you leaving?”

  “Does it matter?” Her voice is ice.

  “I want to apologize for the other night. My words were intended to inflict hurt, undeserved on your part. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you.”

  She remains standing in the bathroom doorway. “No, you shouldn’t.”

  She’s leaving, so I’m not sure why I care if she knows I’m the son of the island drunk. Or why I care at all.

  Nothing to lose, I tell her the truth.

  “My dad’s an alcoholic. Carter and I take turns picking him up from local bars so he doesn’t get another DUI and lose his license. Again.” Once I start talking, I can’t stop. “If he can’t drive, he can’t work. No work means no income. My mom works two jobs and he drinks away more money than he contributes. They’re barely keeping themselves afloat. Neither Carter nor I make enough money to help them out. Honestly, even if we did, I’m not sure we’d give it to dad to lose. I’d pay off their mortgage and get them decent health insurance in a heartbeat. ”