How to Deal

by Shey Stahl

  Sorry, I got sidetracked. Back to the dilemma. Me dating Tathan on a bribe. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with that one date,” I say after shoving a donut in my mouth. It’s a good fucking thing I still swim five days a week, or I’d be huge by now after the sugar I’ve consumed the last two weeks. Remember the cake pops? All. Gone. Every single one of the delicious bastards. “If I go on one date, he’s going to want more.”

  “That’s why you made the rule,” Zane points out, staring at his cell phone in his hand.

  Clipping a stack of building permits together, I shrug. “I’m going to tell him I can’t do it.”

  That’s the last thing Casey wants to hear. “The fuck you are!”

  Yeah, she’s at my desk too. They’re hovering and bothering me. It’s no wonder I can’t get my job done efficiently these days.

  Tathan and I made the deal last night. Thankfully, and sadly, Tuesday morning he’s not in the office, so I find myself giving Zane and Casey all the details as they huddle around my cubicle.

  “Amalie.” Casey shakes her head in disapproval, her hands on my shoulders. “What’s the harm with going on a simple date with him? You haven’t been out on an actual date since Colton. Think of what you’re doing to your vagina. She has needs too.” Leave it to Casey to bring my vagina into the conversation.

  “That’s not true. I was with a guy on Halloween and one awkward date after that with a guy who does the maintenance on my apartment.”

  Casey points her index finger in my face. “Halloween doesn’t count if you can’t remember what the guy looked like and Maintenance Mark was a tool.”

  She has a very good point. He used his tool and then I haven’t heard from him since. Bastard.

  Zane looks up from his phone. “Girl, you haven’t been out on a date in how long?”

  “You shut up, penis boy!” Picking up my stapler, I roll my eyes, annoyed we’re even having this conversation. “My vagina is none of your concern.”

  Casey lets out a breath and takes my stapler from my hand. Probably so I won’t hit Zane with it. “Amalie, seriously, he wants to go out with you. Go out with him.”

  “No, he doesn’t. He just wants to add me to his bucket.” I know I’m being difficult. I do, but it’s still not easy to accept that someone would want to date me. When you’ve been burned before, it’s hard to put your hand on the stove again.

  “No, he does not.” Casey’s starting to get frustrated. “He wants you for you! Why can’t you see that?”

  “What bucket?” Zane asks, wide, excited eyes at the mention of a bucket, and I do not want to know what he’s thinking.

  “I’m not special or anything, and I will not join the harem of women he has. He only wants a date because you want him to take pictures at your wedding. So really, it’s your fault, Casey.”

  “It’s not my fault!” Before I can even comprehend what’s happening, Casey slaps my coffee out of my hand as I take a drink, splashing it all over Zane and the floor. There go his pretty clothes. “Your motherfucking ass is going on a date with him for me. I need him. If he’s dealing, you’re going to make a damn deal with him!”

  “Casey!” we both yell at her, appalled she basically threw my coffee on poor Zane.

  She sighs, sitting back in her chair, a sly smile tugging at her full lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that to you,” she says. “Sorry, Zane, you were in the line of fire,” she adds.

  Grabbing a handful of napkins from my desk drawer, Zane shrugs like nothing happened. This may also be because some guy walked past and caught his attention.

  As I get up to walk away, Casey grabs my hand. I look back at her. “Tathan likes you, okay. Just think about it before you take back the offer. And I’m dying to have him take my pictures. I want perfection for this day. Something to last me a lifetime. He can do that.”

  Goddamn you, Casey. Way to make me feel like a complete asshole for not wanting to go on a date with him.

  As I’m cleaning coffee splatters off my shirt in the bathroom, I think about what she said. I know she’s right. I can’t trust men, especially after Colton. I can’t. I want to trust Tathan because I see that sensitivity in his eyes, I really do, but he has a reputation, or one I’m labeling him with. I refuse to be another one of his conquests.

  When I return to my desk, Casey and Zane are, of course, still discussing my personal life in detail.

  “I think she needs to give him a chance. He’s sweet.”

  “I agree, but who am I kidding? I would date him if he was interested,” Zane says, and I’m not surprised by this. Zane has always had a thing for Tathan. “If they get married, her name would be Amalie Madsen! How cute is that?”

  And then they laugh, like the thought is hysterical to them. They know I’m sitting here, but they continue to talk as if I’m not even present.

  “Did you see the way he was watching her at the expo? Or the way he watches her at work?”

  “I know, right,” Casey gasps. “He was watching her like she was one of his newborn cubs.”

  “I’ll be his cub if she won’t.” Zane grins. “He can lick me clean.”

  Okay, am I the only one disturbed by that image?

  “I think they are cute together,” Casey says. “Imagine how adorable their babies would be.”

  Babies? What the fuck? And why am I imagining them now?

  “I’m sitting right here.” I wave my hands in front of them, but they continue to talk like I’m not even there as they plan out my life for me.

  “What I wouldn’t give to have a man stare at me like that,” Zane adds.

  Oh, believe me, I know that stare. It’s like he’s worshiping you with just his eyes.

  Casey shrugs, eyes distant. “She’s in denial.”

  “I. Can. Hear. You. Assholes!” I say, loud enough for the entire office to hear.

  Tell me why I hang out with these two?

  “Chil-lax, muff.” Zane pats my head.

  I slap him on the shoulder. “Don’t call me muff. I’m not okay with that. And go back to your desk.”

  The mailman stops by and gives me an armful of mail and says something to me, but none of us can focus on what he’s saying. He’s got his pants so far up his waist it looks as though he’s trying to create a onesie.

  Zane turns to us with a look of horror. “What’s with the moose knuckle on that guy? It looks like a fanny pack split in two.”

  I watch the mailman walk away for a moment before I give my explanation. “His tequila is missing its lime is what’s wrong with him.”

  Zane loves it when I come up with little sayings like that because he spends a good portion of his day thinking of new ones to tell me.

  Luckily for me, Paul comes into the office around nine, and I’m able to get away from Casey and Zane to attend a meeting with him.

  Work is crazy and thankfully passes in a blur. Tathan never does show up, and I’m both sad and relieved.

  I’m late getting home after I have dinner with Zane and two of Casey’s cousins to discuss the bridal shower on Saturday morning, followed by the bachelorette party that night.

  When I climb the stairs to my apartment, Tathan is walking in with his black camera bag on his shoulder, smirking. “Isn’t it a little late to be out, Amalie?” he asks, his eyes glowing like he’s undressing me. He probably is.

  I shrug but don’t answer. I’m too exhausted to speak.

  He leans up against the wall beside my door as I’m fumbling with my keys. “Wanna go to the hot tub again?”

  He leaned. Just him leaning snaps something inside me, and all I can think about are those soft pouting, biteable lips. I don’t want to admit it, but I missed him today.

  Something I can’t explain takes over, and I’m overcome by his presence. Controlled by the lack of sex, I act on impulse. At least that’s what I think it is because what else could explain what I do next? Certainly not sanity.

  I grab his shirt, yanking him to me and ca
pture his lips with my own. He’s shocked, his eyes seem to glow in the darkness of the hallway, but he quickly gains control of the situation and closes them. His hands move around my back and he pulls me flush with his body, pushing us against my door. My hands snake up to where I’ve imagined them being since I met him, up to his chest, feeling every inch, and eventually settle in his mess of thick dark hair.

  Everything about it is so right. His touch, his smell, he could very well be the death of me. I know this now.

  Parting my lips, he takes full advantage, his tongue caressing my own. It’s nice. It’s really fucking nice. It’s extremely passionate, and when he eventually pulls away, I’m left breathless and weak, a puddle in the bottom of his bucket.

  I suck his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down softly and pulling him into me. He willingly comes forward, his kiss growing just as eager as mine. With my back against my door, his lips brushing mine, easing me into it, but there’s no easy in my mind.

  There’s something so familiar about his kiss I can’t place. His lips press against mine more firmly, and then his tongue slips into my mouth. He tastes so good, a sweet mixture of mint gum and strangely, watermelon. Or maybe it’s me that tastes like watermelon from the drinks I had earlier.

  One of Tathan’s hands slides around my neck, and then the other, holding me against him

  This kiss. It sets fire to what he’s sparked, and I’ve gone a little crazy. My hands fist his hair. I want to touch him all night.

  And you know what’s so disarming? I’ve never had a kiss that’s so. . . intense. When I look up at him, he’s as breathless as I am—which makes me feel better, but I blush when I meet his gaze. Embarrassed for throwing myself at him, I look away. Christ, my cheeks are so freaking hot.

  “So, it’s a deal. . . hot tub?” he asks, smirking, still holding on to me, my tongue dances behind my lips, savoring the taste of him on me.

  Him and his fucking deals. Searching his eyes, I find that teasing smile has returned.

  Deal?

  I’m not sure I like that word anymore. I’m not sure I know how to deal.

  “No. I already gave you one deal.” I hope I didn’t make a terrible mistake.

  Untangling myself, I finally pull away.

  Probably a little confused, Tathan runs his hand over the back of his neck and sighs before I close the door and leave him standing in the hall.

  Was it a mistake? Am I being a dick to him?

  Hello! You kissed Tathan, and you made a fucking deal with him to go on a date! That was a mistake.

  At my feet, Oliver looks up at me curiously. He’s probably wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I slide down my door, and he crawls on my lap. Again.

  “Mommy is so weak!”

  Speaking of weak, someone has a weak bladder, and I’m sitting in pee.

  After walking Oliver, I’m in bed that night cuddling with him and eating Cheerios.

  I kissed Tathan. In the hall.

  What was I thinking?

  I wasn’t. Again. Now he’s going to expect kissing and maybe even more on that date in a few weeks. I need to set some ground rules for that date, and myself.

  But still. . . we kissed. Romantic-movie style. Speaking of romantic. . . I’m staring at the cover of Brides. You know, the one Tathan’s on the cover of. I stole it from Zane unbeknownst to him. The more I read into him, I realize there’s absolutely no way someone like him would ever want to be in a relationship with me. Dude’s freaking famous.

  Relationship?

  What happened to one date?

  Eventually, I get up from my bed and reach for my laptop to check Facebook. I’m only on there a few minutes and watching a silly cat video my Aunt Kim posted when a private message pops up in the right corner from Tathan.

  Tathan: Are you awake?

  What the heck? How’d he find me on here? Oh, right. Facebook friends, thanks to Casey.

  Me: I’m on here, aren’t I?

  Despite my answer, I’m giddy he messaged me. Tathan Madsen private messaged me! I want to punch myself at how excited I am. You’d think I was just asked to prom. Who am I right now?

  Me: Did you need something?

  Tathan: Yes.

  Me: Well?

  Tathan: Hot tub?

  Me: I already said no.

  Tathan: Why?

  Me: I’m busy.

  Tathan: Really? Doing what? Sitting in bed with your dog?

  Me: That’s none of your business.

  Tathan: Amalie, I’m not that bad of a guy.

  Me: You aren’t?

  Tathan: No. I’m not, and you kissed me. I liked that kiss. I want more kissing. And I enjoy your company.

  Of course he added that last part. I don’t answer, and he replies again.

  Tathan: Let’s talk about our date. You said yes. No take backs.

  Me: Not until you take Casey’s photos. Then I’ll give you the date.

  Tathan: Why?

  Me: You need to hold up your end of the deal first.

  Tathan: I don’t break deals. What about you? What if I take the photos and you never give me that date?

  Me: You know where I live, so there’s that. I’m sure you’d stalk me until I held up my end of said deal.

  Tathan: True.

  I don’t like replying through messages, so I type out:

  Me: This is ridiculous. Meet me at the hot tub in ten minutes. I have to walk Oliver.

  Tathan: Deal.

  Of course he agrees instantly.

  It’s a bad idea, and I know it, but I go anyway. I blame that kiss.

  We meet outside my door five minutes later, and I try not to look, but I do. He has his towel over his shoulder revealing his tight body.

  Not me. I wrap my towel tightly around my body. Tathan looks down at Oliver. “Is your dog going to bite me?”

  “Nah, he’s not a biter. Just likes to growl and pee.”

  Watching him as we walk, his head is lowered, concentrating on the ground, his lips parted slightly, and it draws me in. “So he’s like most men marking their territory?”

  I raise an eyebrow at him as we walk toward the hot tub, Oliver growling at him the entire way as he walks behind us, mainly focused on Tathan. “Do you pee on my doorstep?”

  I’m teasing, but he goes with it.

  “No, just around the apartment complex. I’m very much like a lion patrolling my territory.” He smiles and holds open the gate for me. “I like to mark the neighborhood. That way they don’t even come close to the building.”

  I laugh, a full-on laugh where I cover my mouth as it’s so loud. He’s funny, and I never realized that before now. “Your territory?”

  He winks. “One could be optimistic, right?”

  “If one was that confident.”

  Confidently, he drops his towel to the ground. “One is.”

  Goddamn. I give an audible sigh—which he notices—and sink down in the water across from him. I’ve never seen a man as pretty as him. Never.

  “No one is entirely that confident,” I point out. “You have to have a weakness.”

  “I do.” He smiles. “I can’t whistle.”

  “See, I was hoping for something weird. Like a third nipple.”

  Laughing, he glances down at his bare chest in the water. “Nothing like that. Sorry.”

  Nope. Nothing but a perfect body I want to lick every inch of.

  “It’s okay. I was hoping to feel normal around you instead of completely inadequate.”

  His brow pulls together. “You shouldn’t feel that at all.”

  “I do.” I watch the water for a long moment and the way the water bubbles around my knees I’ve pulled up to my chest. If I’m being honest, I’m afraid if I let my legs down, I’ll spread them and coax him between them.

  It’s when Tathan opens his second beer he brought down with him, he opens up. “I always wanted to play music,” he admits, trying to make me feel better about my body I assume. “But I can’t. I�
��m horrible at it.”

  “Like sing?”

  “Yeah, but I can’t sing. At all.”

  He’s playing a little Elvis on his phone, which I love so I tell him to sing along. “Try.”

  He does and within a minute, I know he’s not lying.

  I can’t stop the fit of giggles that emerge from my lips. “Oh yeah, stick to photography, buddy.”

  “See.” He leans over and sets his beer on the edge of the hot tub near his towel. “I have faults.”

  “Did you go to college for photography?” I want to change the subject, and I think he appreciates it.

  He nods. “I actually went to Columbia because my parents both went there and then started my business while going to school. I took photos for the local papers and things like that to get my name out there. Then one of the girls in my class was getting married and wanted me to take her photos for the wedding. Turns out her parents were like super famous, had some fairly high-profile friends there, and it was just sort of the right exposure at the time.”

  “Has photography always been your passion?”

  “Yeah.” Pausing, his eyes drop from mine like he might be insecure sharing like this, but when they meet mine again, it’s anything but insecure. He’s confident and sure of everything he’s saying. “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want to take photos. I used to have this little plastic camera when I was a kid. It didn’t take actual photos, but I thought it did and would go around taking photographs of everything, especially my mom ’cause she’d always pose for me. She was so beautiful that I wished there was a film in it so I could have captured her smile and the way she’d watch me. She’d sit there for hours just letting me pretend I was some famous photographer.”

  His mom? He’s talking about his mother!

  Clearing his throat, about the time I’m ready to cry, he says, “I’ve seen you out here in the mornings swimming.” He gives a nod to the pool behind us. “You look like it’s something you really enjoy.”

  He’s getting at something, and I think I know what that it is. I know he’s seen me out here doing laps. He works out on Tuesday and Thursdays in the morning, and the gym overlooks the pool. If there is one thing that takes my mind off life in general, it’s swimming.