Man Up Playboy

by Danielle Sibarium

  "Your time is almost up."

  "Okay, okay." She knocked me back on my heels just as I thought I was winning her over. "Getting back to the movie, it's like you were made for me, because I'm not usually this awkward around girls. But with you, I'm tripping over my words, and I'm totally striking out."

  I pull my eyebrows together giving my disappointed look, and hope she buys it. I know she can see past the bullshit, but I'm hoping she sees that she really is affecting me. Heavy silence looms between us as she takes a sip of her coffee before answering.

  "Maybe you're not totally striking out. You do have two strikes on you, but you just took a ball. Let's see if you can even out the count."

  "You like baseball?" I smile, stunned.

  "Baseball, football, hockey. Don't look so surprised. There's something hot about watching a bunch of alpha males trying to dominate each other."

  She's into guys. I want to drop to my knees and give thanks.

  "Alpha males, huh?" Now I'm the one smiling. I can serve that up for her on a silver platter. "A girl that's into sports. I think I've died and gone to Heaven."

  "It's not that unusual."

  "For me it is." I don't want to admit it's unusual because I never really give a shit what the girls I'm with are into, just as long as they're into me and we have the same end game in mind.

  "If you ever go to games, or even just watch, there are probably as many women there as men."

  "When I go to a game, I go with my buddies, and we go for the game, not the girls."

  A haughty sound leaves her mouth, and I can tell she doesn't believe me. Sharp as a whip this one.

  "Since you seem to be holding the little details about yourself hostage, I'll go first. The name's Cooper."

  She leans forward in her seat, forearms on the table, eyes locked on mine. I can't help myself. Like a lap dog, I mirror her movement.

  "Here's the deal, Cooper. I don't have time for bullshit. I have a crazy schedule and the last thing I need is to fall for some good-for-nothing-pretty-boy, whose only goal is to fuck with me."

  "You think you could fall for me?" I wink as I flash a smile her way.

  "That's what you heard?"

  "Hell yeah. You wouldn't have mentioned it if you weren't attracted to me. And I have to tell you that makes me happy. Shit, no. It fucking thrills me because, baby, I'm more than just attracted to you. I'm enchanted. Be-fucking-witched. Truth is I saw your face for the first time less than five minutes ago and I can't pull my eyes away from you. I'd even go as far as saying I'm borderline obsessed."

  "And you know this after less than five minutes?"

  I nod. "The truth is, if I leave here without your number, I don't think I'll be able to live with myself. Hell I don't think I'll be able to live, because my life will be meaningless and empty without you in it."

  I can't help myself, I use a cheesy line. Although I rarely need to pull them out, I know girls fall for bullshit like this all the time.

  "How about you give me your number instead?"

  "Huh?" As if on cue, my phone vibrates in my pocket reminding me, as if I needed a reminder, that my number is off limits. "I can't."

  "That's what I thought," she says getting to her feet.

  "No, no, no." I reach a hand out to stop her. "Don't leave."

  Her phone chimes, indicating that my five minutes are up. I need more time with her.

  "I don't have time or interest in married men, or guys in committed relationships. My self-respect is worth more to me than the momentarily thrill of being your dirty little secret."

  "No. You've got it wrong. I'm not either of those things. I just . . . I need to change my number . . . Let's just say it's a bad breakup. She thinks things were much more serious than they were and she isn't taking it well."

  "So it's her fault?" She asks and I don't detect an ounce of sarcasm in her voice.

  Relieved she's getting it, I let out a long breath and let my guard down a bit before I answer. "Yeah. She's a crazy bitch."

  She smirks and shakes her head. There it is. She doesn't have to say it, strike three looking. Right down the middle of the fucking plate.

  I watch the door close behind her. Damn It. How? When did that go wrong? It's not like I've never been rejected before, but not by anyone I tried so hard to impress. No matter what I said or did, it didn't work, and I don't understand why.

  I'm moving, but it's like I have no control over my body. My feet carry me over to the counter.

  "Hey, buddy," I call to the guy that helped the blonde. "Tell me everything you know about her," I say pulling a fifty out of my wallet.

  The kid's stare falls to the money before meeting my eyes again. He gives a slight shake of his head. I can see although uncomfortable, he's considering it. I need to up the ante without showing him how desperate for the information I really am. I pull the fifty back and place a hundred dollar bill on the counter between us. With my hand still on it, I try to ease his conscious so he'll help me.

  "I don't want to hurt her. I just want to see her again. And while she might not realize it yet, she wants to see me, too. So how about I ask a few questions. Nothing too hard or personal. You just give me the answers. That's all. You don't have to volunteer anything more."

  His eyes are glued to the cash. His minimum wage ass probably doesn't see this much working two weeks in this place. Hesitantly he nods. Score one point for me.

  "How long have you been working here?"

  He shrugs. "I don't know, like three months."

  "How many days a week do you work?"

  "Four," he says, his eyes shifting around the shop.

  "See, easy." I smile and hope he's relaxing a little. "This isn't her first time here is it?"

  "No."

  "Do you know her name?"

  He shakes his head, but I can tell the way his eyes shift he's lying.

  "Is she a regular? I mean does she come in every day? Every night? Every Saturday?"

  He shrugs. "She comes when she comes." Great, I'm dealing with a fucking brainiac. This is his way of reneging on the deal. That's fine, I won't give him one red cent. I let out a long, exaggerated breath hoping he picks up on my frustration. "What I mean is, there's no pattern from what I can see. But I'm not here all the time."

  "Look, I can tell you're nervous, and I like the fact that you don't want to divulge too much about her, but I'm not looking to hurt her. I just want to talk to her again."

  "Sorry, that's all I know."

  With a dark stare, I pass the money to him, "This conversation never happened. Got it?"

  He nods before I turn to leave.

  "Wait," he calls after me. I stop and look back at him.

  "You just want to talk?"

  I nod. "That's all."

  He groans before continuing. "When she does come, at least when I've seen her here, it's on the weekends. Not both days, but she's usually here at least one of them. And usually around the same time."

  "Great."

  It's not much, but it's something to go on. At least I know if I want to give myself a challenge this is the place for it.

  *

  Two weeks pass before she walks back into the coffee shop. I've spoken to Teddy, the kid I paid off, a few times in between. He claims he hasn't seen her. I believe him, because every time he sees me the color drains from his face and I swear he looks like he's going to shit his pants.

  Sitting at a table in the corner, drinking my coffee, I look up when the door to the shop opens. A funny feeling fills my chest as I recognize her. Something strange happens to my pulse rate. It's lust, I tell myself as I soak her in. Just a healthy dose of I-want-to-fuck-her-ness.

  Her face is red and sweaty, I notice a wet patch on her shirt starting at her neck line, dipping down into the valley between her tits. Her hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and I'm guessing she just finished a work out. She looks even sexier than the first time I saw her. I swear the words "fuck me hard," are oozing out of her por
es and shooting straight to my dick.

  She doesn't notice me. That's cool. I actually prefer it this way. It means I have the element of surprise on my side. Good thing Teddy's here. He looks in my direction as soon as he spots her. I motion for him to add her order to my tab. That's the way this shit's been working. I've been running a damn coffee tab when I'm here waiting to see if she'll grace us with her presence. Fucking pathetic. When did I become such a pussy? The day she shot my sorry ass down.

  By the time he hands her the coffee, I'm next to her.

  "Think you can spare ten minutes?" I ask getting deep into her personal space.

  She narrows her blue eyes as she looks at me. "You again?"

  "That's right." I flash her a smile. "Since I paid for your coffee, it's a date, whether you like it or not."

  "You did not. How much?" She asks my new best friend Teddy.

  "Sorry," he shrugs. "It's on him." He motions to me.

  "Is that so?"

  I smirk at her, with my arms crossed over my chest, enjoying the look on her face. "See, like I said, a date."

  She looks around us and asks in a mocking tone, "This is your idea of a date?"

  "I'll take what I can get, and since this is the only place I can get some face time with you, this has to do."

  "Listen. Cooper, was it?"

  "You remember. I must have made an impression."

  "Too bad it's not a good one."

  "Come on now, you mean to tell me you haven't thought about me at all?" I hold her stare and lean forward a tiny bit, hoping she picks up on my silent invitation for her to touch me. "You didn't wonder about me? Not one little bit?" I smirk letting her know I think she's full of shit.

  She shakes her head.

  "You didn't leave here and consider the possibility that you made a terrible mistake not giving me a chance? You haven't crawled into bed one night since, closed your eyes, and imagined my hands on your body? Or what kissing me would be like? Not even for a split second?"

  "Not at all," she says then quickly darts her eyes off to the side. She's lying. I want to call bullshit, but I don't think that will help me win her over.

  "Then I have to admit that I'm disappointed, I'd even go so far as to say I'm borderline crushed, because I thought about you a whole lot." I stand to my full height, inching even closer to her, so that she's forced to look up into my eyes. "I pictured your face at the end of the day, and those soft, beautiful lips." I reach out and pull my thumb across her bottom lip. She doesn't pull away or slap my hand. She takes a slow deep breath. I've got the reaction I wanted. Her mind is racing with images of us. I need to keep them coming.

  "I've wondered if you could script it, what would your perfect kiss be like? Would you want me to stare into your eyes, and pull you close?" My hand curls around her hip and I'm subtly bringing her close to me, just like I'm describing. "Would you want our lips to meet and move slow and tender? Or do you like the hard, hungry kisses that invite desperate touching and pawing?" Her lips part slightly. The red color of her face deepens. She wants me damn it. I just hope she's not too proud to admit it.

  "But if you're sure thoughts like that haven't crossed your mind at all since we last saw each other then, I guess I was wrong." I let my hand slip from her as I force myself to pull back and inch away. "Wrong about you. About how perfect you'd feel in my arms. It makes me wonder what other things I might be wrong about. Are you really a Shatter My World Doll? or is it more like a Stick A Knife In My Heart Cutie?" I'm further away than I want to be, and she doesn't look like she gives a shit. Fuck.

  I keep backing up toward my table until I'm halfway across the small coffee shop. She's not saying anything, not responding. I need to find enough words to fill the space until she tells me to stop. I talk, and keep talking.

  "If you're not the least bit curious, then I'll make it up to you right now by walking away. I'll just walk out that door, and smother the burning attraction I feel for you that has me obsessed, and wondering everything about you. And don't worry, I won't bother you. I won't show up here anymore. In fact even if chance pulls us together unexpectedly, I'll make it my business to stay away and make sure you don't ever see me again."

  I turn calling her bluff, hoping like hell she'll make a move to stop me. I pick my book up off my table in the corner, still waiting. Still hoping. Without even glancing in her direction, I head straight for the door. I keep my eyes forward, willing her to call out to me, to stop me. I can't let her know how fucking crushed I am at this very moment that she's about to let me walk away, and out of her life.

  "Alright." She makes a sound like she's sucking her teeth, and looks even more annoyed. "Fine. I have a few minutes to talk."

  I turn back and gesture toward her, book in hand, giving her a taste of her disinterested attitude. "No. It's fine. I wouldn't want to put you out or anything. I guess I'm the only one struck by Cupid's arrow, and you shouldn't have to suffer because of it."

  "Would you please stop." A hint of a smile plays at her lips.

  "Please, don't feel obligated to do anything on my behalf." It's working. She's advancing toward me. "This unyielding attraction I have for you, that blinds me to the rest of the world, it's my cross to bear, and mine alone."

  She laughs, and that sound has my insides melting like an ice over a flame. I don't realize that I'm staring at her with a dumb smile on my face until she speaks.

  "What?"

  "That sound."

  "What sound?" She asks looking around her for the thing that's making me smile.

  "Your laugh. It's beautiful. Just like you."

  Her face betrays her surprise. "You know, Cooper. I believe that's the first honest thing you've said to me."

  I shake my head in disagreement. "Everything I just said is true. I have thought about you non-stop since you walked out that door. I have wondered how you like to be kissed so when it happens, because make no mistake it's going to happen, it'll be perfect. And I do want to know everything there is to know about you."

  She looks away.

  "Here's my phone." I hold it out to her, terrified of the words coming out of my mouth, but I can't stop them. It's like there's no connection between my brain and my mouth. If I thought the whole situation with Madeline/ Madison was bad, why the fuck am I inviting more trouble with this one?

  "Call yourself so you have my number, look through my pictures. Whatever you want."

  "You knew you were hoping to see me. You could've bought yourself a new phone."

  "Why would I go through so much trouble when you won't give me the time of day?"

  Before she can answer. Before things can fall apart, my eyes shift away from the girl I'm dying to get with and fall onto a girl being wheeled into the coffee shop. She's young and beautiful. Probably late teens or early twenties. Her eyes are filled with tears.

  Something about her yanks on my heartstrings, and I can't help but stare. Her hair is so dark against her pale skin, and her eyes are such a pretty blue. Her face wrestles me into to the past. She's a living ghost. Luna. I know it's not her. It can't be her, but the sadness this girl's face holds, reminds me so much of Luna. And that is the last person I need to be thinking of right now.

  Ever.

  The woman pushing the wheelchair, who I'm guessing is the girl's mother, bends down to speak to her. I'm statue-still watching these strangers.

  "Are you okay?" I hear close to my ear. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

  The voice comes from the woman standing next to me whose name I still don't know. The woman that up until five seconds ago I almost had convinced to spend some time with me. Now she's fallen into the background. So much so, I vaguely hear her. I can't focus on her or the words coming out of her mouth. I'm unable to peel my eyes off of the other girl that entered the shop. I watch and listen to the interaction in front of me.

  "What do you want, honey?"

  The girl looks away from her mother. She looks around the mostly empty coffee shop, lo
cks her eyes on me, and stares. I don't know why she doesn't tear them away, it's as if she recognizes that I'm broken inside. Just like her.

  "I want to die."

  "Sweetheart, I know today was rough, but you're making progress. It's going to take time."

  "Today was rough?" She squeals and I hear the angst in her voice. I wince internally because no one should have to burden that much pain. "The last six months have been rough, and I still can't walk. I hate this thing." She bangs her palm down on the arm of the chair. "I hate my life. I don't want to live like this. Why can't you just let me die?"

  "Oh, hell no!" Without thinking I hand the girl I've been talking to the book in my hand, push past her and advance toward this poor broken soul. I know I don't have anything to offer her. Not one thing. Not one reason why she should stick it out and fight, but I have to go to her. Maybe I could make this moment better. If I can make her smile right now, five minutes from now might not feel so empty and bad.

  "I'll be right back," the mother says sniffling as she heads to the bathroom.

  Way to guilt your daughter into submission. At least she's leaving an opening for me. Perfect, I think as I stride over to the girl in the chair. She looks so small and fragile with her eyes downcast staring at her hands in her lap. Game face on, I bend down in front of her. Her head slowly moves up and I find myself staring into her eyes.

  "Why are you here?" She snaps. "Do you really want to make me feel worse and more useless just so you and your girlfriend can have a good laugh?"

  I shake my head and look at her through my lashes, I give her half a smile. It's the one the girls swoon over. "I just came to check out your wheels. They look awesome."

  "Nice, mock the crippled, loser girl. Asshole."

  I bring my face closer to hers so that we're almost nose to nose, and turn serious. "First of all, I don't waste my time with losers. Second of all, I don't take kindly to being called names, and third of all, what this all tells me is, you don't know how to have fun."

  "What the hell do you find fun about not being able to walk?"

  "Let me show you." I reach for her hands and place them around my neck. Now hold on tight, and no matter what, don't let go."