by Tabatha Kiss
She waves a hand. “Yeah, whatever. Get to the good stuff.”
“Right, right.” I exhale, feeling my cheeks turn pink. “It was everything I wanted it to be. He was kind and sexy and rough — but not too rough. We’re having dinner again at my place on Tuesday.”
“At your place?” she asks.
“Yep. He’s going to cook.” I swoon. “He cooks.”
She tilts her head. “You have the next twenty years of your lives all planned out, don’t you?”
“I might.”
“You’re gonna have two little brats in a fenced-in yard in the suburbs, aren’t you?”
“Oh, god, no.” I hold up my hands, creating a wide frame to picture it in. “I’m thinking more along the lines of a brownstone in the city with a live-in butler — and a cook!”
“For the nights when Max doesn’t feel like doing it himself,” she says.
“Exactly. And the roof will have this little nook where we can look out at the city and make sweet love under the stars…”
She frowns. “You’re disgusting.”
“And a puppy! Little baby chocolate lab puppy with a pink collar.”
“Wow.”
“Mark my words, Jackie.” I sigh. “This is the start of a beautiful love story.”
“You’ve fucked him twice,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Calm down.”
My desk phone rings beside me.
“Seriously,” I say, reaching for it. “Absolutely nothing is going to kill my mood today. I don’t care how much Bradley annoys me with his stupid book. It’s going to take something truly massive to wipe this grin off my face.” I rest the phone against my cheek. “Hey, this is Phoebe.”
“Hey, Pheebs.”
I pause. “Who is this?”
“It’s Thad Hemsley.”
My smile drops.
“Hold, please.” I press my hand over the mouthpiece. “Oh, god. Oh, god. It’s Thad,” I tell Jackie.
“Thad?” she repeats. “Thirty-three percent of your little three-way, Thad? That Thad?”
“Yes, that Thad. How many Thads do you know?”
“Well, what does he want?”
“I don’t know!”
She blinks with amusement. “Don’t you think that you should ask him?”
I slap the phone against my cheek. “What do you want? I mean…” I clear my throat. “‘Sup?”
Jackie squints with disgust and silently mouths, “‘Sup?”
I throw my hands in the air, my panic rising.
“I wanted to see what you were up to tonight,” Thad says. “I’m flying into LAX around six-thirty, thought maybe you’d like to have a drink with me.”
The phone slips from my clammy hand and bounces loudly on my desk.
“Shit—!” I pick it up again. “Uh, sorry about that. So, drinks? Wow. That’s… that’s a question you just asked me.”
Jackie’s jaw drops.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “I can call back later if you’re busy.”
“No, no. Not busy,” I say. “In fact, I’m as free as an eagle…” Jackie cringes at me, “in the wild, blue sky…”
She silently scolds me again. “Stop. Talking.”
I spin in my chair to turn away from her gawking face. “I’m like totally free,” I say into the phone.
“You are?” Thad asks.
“I think.”
“You think?”
I bite my lip. “Okay, honestly, you caught me a little off-guard here, Thad…”
He chuckles. “I figured, but… I don’t know. I feel like we might have hit it off last week and I wanted to catch up with you one-on-one. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. Super cool. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
“I won’t?”
“Well, maybe a little.”
I smile, instantly picturing his smirk in my head. “Yeah. I’ll have drinks with you. Sounds like fun.”
“Awesome,” he says. “Do you know Marion’s? It’s on Vine.”
“Uh… not really,” I say, “but I’m sure I can find it.”
“Bright orange sign. You can’t miss it. I’ll meet you there at eight? That should cover any delays I might run into…”
I stare straight ahead, blissfully catatonic. “Uh-huh.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then, Pheebs.”
“Kay...”
He hangs up and I allow the phone to slip through my hand again. It slides into my lap as I spin back around to face Jackie, her face still dropped in shock.
“Thad asked you out?” she asks.
I nod. “Yep.”
“And you said yes?”
“Yep.”
Her brow pops up. “And which floor of the brownstone in the city is he going to live on?”
My heart drops. “Oh, shit.”
Her grin twists up her face. “Uh-huh.”
“Fuck…” I slide forward. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t date two guys at once!”
She shrugs. “Why not? I do it all the time. It’s fun. Just never ever fall for both of them. That doesn’t end well.”
“No?”
“Never ever.”
I clutch my chest. “Oh, god. They’re best friends. What am I doing?”
“It’s not like you and Max are exclusive,” she says. “You’re not, right? All the time you spent together pounding uglies and that topic never came up?”
I shake my head slowly. “No…”
“So, it’s just as likely that Max is seeing other people, too. I mean, the guy set up your next date for a Tuesday night, completely skipping the weekend — meaning he already has plans.”
“I thought he had to work.”
She raises a brow. “Does he? Does he really?”
I sink deeper into the chair. “I don’t know.”
“Well, there you go.” She waves a hand. “Keep your date with Thad. Go have fun. Get in there. Do your thang, girl.”
“I have a thang?”
She nods. “I’d say dating two hot best friends you had a threesome with after your high school reunion qualifies as a thang. I’d be smiling with pride if I weren’t using every ounce of self-control I have to stop myself from tearing this office apart in a jealous rage.”
I sit back and smile. “I have a thang.”
“It’s only cool if you don’t gloat,” she says, her tone flat and cold.
“I don’t care.”
She smirks. “So, how do you think little Bradley Dumbfuck is going to decorate his new office?”
I glare at her.
Fourteen
Thad
I’m not what you would call a nervous guy.
In fact, I’m confident to the point of arrogance, if I’m to be completely honest with myself. And yet, as I step into Marion’s for what’s possibly the five-hundredth time, my heart is pounding with nerves.
The place is packed from front to back but I’ve spent a significant portion of my adult life inside floating cylinders stuffed with people. I ain’t exactly claustrophobic. People don’t bother me but, for some reason, this one has my blood pumping.
Phoebe Pink. Who knew, right?
I reach into my pocket for my phone to check the time as I make my way toward the circular bar in the center of the main floor. It’s almost eight-ten. I’m a few minutes late but I’m prepared to do a little groveling as soon as I find her.
I wave at the bartender across the counter. He acknowledges my presence but chooses to serve the leggy blonde a few feet down from me first. I give an understanding nod. No sense in cock-blocking the poor guy, especially since it looks like it’s going to be a long night for him.
I lean forward against the bar and wait, scanning the crowd again for that head of bright red hair. A few girls stand out but my attentions skim right over them.
The bartender makes his way over to me. “What can I get you?” he asks over the music blaring from speakers above the bar.
“Jack and Coke,” I say.
“G
otcha.”
He turns while I reach into my pocket for cash. As he shifts out of the way, that hair comes into view ahead of me at the other side of the bar.
Phoebe Pink sits on a stool with some guy hovering over her shoulder.
He’s leaning in a little too close, trying to whisper something into her ear but Phoebe ain’t having it. She leans away every time. Guy just won’t take the hint.
The bartender returns with my drink and I hand him enough cash to cover it and a decent tip.
“You see that girl?” I ask him, pointing at Phoebe.
He glances over his shoulder. “The red head?”
“Yeah. How long has she been here?”
“Twenty minutes, maybe,” he says with a shrug.
“And how long has that prick been at her?”
“About five.”
I nod at the barely-touched highball glass in front of her. “What’s she drinking?”
He thinks for a second. “Vodka tonic.”
I lay down a few dollars more. “Make her up another one, will ya? I’m heading over.”
“All right,” he says, swiping the money off the bar.
I grab my own glass and walk around the bar to her side, slowly navigating through the dense crowd with my eye on her. She hasn’t noticed me yet, which is perfect because this move is way more fun when it’s a surprise… and it’s an outright hoot when the guy is as shrimpy as this fucker is.
I get close enough to barely hear what they’re saying and I wait for the right moment.
“You wanna dance, baby?” he asks.
“I told you already. No, thank you,” she says.
I smile. So polite.
“Aw, come on. You know you wanna…”
He touches her arm and she tugs it away as she tightens her grip on her purse tucked under her elbow.
“No,” she says it again, her voice quivering slightly.
“Listen, honey,” he spits, “we both know you’re not doing any better than me tonight, so you might as well give it up.”
And that’s my cue.
I step between them, forcefully butting him out of the way as I cup her startled, yet relieved, face.
“Hey, honey,” I say. “Sorry, I’m late.”
I kiss her, keeping my eyes open just so I can watch hers flutter closed. Her stiff shoulders relax as I rest my palm on the side of her neck, urging her to part her lips for me and she lets my tongue caress hers. She clenches my arm to hold herself up, really selling it to this fucking loser still lingering beside us.
I break away and turn to tower over him and his annoyed stare by at least half a foot.
“Hey, squirt,” I greet him. “Can I help you with something?”
He glances between us before slinking off into the crowd with his tail between his stick-like legs.
I settle onto the stool next to Phoebe as she runs a finger along the side of her open mouth. Completely kiss-shocked, as intended.
The bartender sets her new drink down in front of her.
I pick up the old one. “Dump this, please.”
Phoebe squints with confusion as he takes it from me. “Wha—?”
“Did you look away from it at all in the last few minutes?” I ask.
“Wait — you don’t think that guy…?” she asks, pale and terrified.
“Wouldn’t risk it.” I slide her new drink a little closer to her. “Here.”
She blinks several times. “Thank you,” she exhales.
“You’re welcome.” I eye her trembling lips, finding it hard to hold back my grin. “Sorry about the kiss.”
“No, you’re not,” she notes.
“Nah, you’re right. Worth every second.”
She laughs. “Just don’t do it again.”
I hold up my hands. “You have my word,” I say, smiling back. “Really, though. Are you okay? Fuck that guy.”
“Yeah.” She nods. “I’m fine now.”
I look her up and down, admiring her tight, black skirt and sapphire blouse as I take a sip of my drink. “Yes, you are,” I say with a wink.
Her eyes roll back. “You’ve used that one already.”
“I have?”
“Yeah. At Max’s.”
“Shit. Guess I’ll have to break out the real special lines for you.”
“Or you could just talk to me like a normal person,” she suggests.
I cringe. “Okay, how did I go from the hero to the lousy pick-up artist in thirty seconds?”
She laughs. “You’re a talented man, Thad.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” I grab our drinks and slide off my stool. “Come on.”
I push through the crowd, moving slowly so she can keep up with me. We travel away from the thumping speakers and shouting voices by the bar to the quiet corners in the back. A table for two sits empty, just waiting for us, and I smile at the twist of fate.
Must be my lucky night.
I set our drinks down and Phoebe takes the chair beside hers. She glances around, still visibly irked by her encounter with that creep. I don’t blame her.
“Relax, Pheebs,” I tell her. “You’re safe with me.”
She smiles and releases the iron-tight clench on her purse to set it down on the table between us. “Is it obvious yet that I don’t come out often?”
“A little.”
“But you do?”
I nod. “I might spend a decent chunk of time here when I’m in town.”
“When you’re in town…” she gives a knowing glance, “and are in need of a warm bed to sleep in?”
“Milady…” I lay an open palm on my chest. “You have the wrong idea.”
“Do I?” she asks, leaning forward enough to reveal the cusps of her cleavage.
“I’m not sure who you’ve spoken to,” I say, “but what you utter is pure slander toward my good character.”
“Oh…” She plays along, feigning a gasp. “My apologies, good sir.”
“If all I wanted was a warm bed, I’d just call Max.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he’s one hell of a little spoon.”
Phoebe cracks up, letting out the slightest snort before covering her nose and shutting it down. “Okay, then…” she says. “Fair enough.”
I stare at her pink face, so bright and adorable — even in these dim back corners.
She takes a sip of her drink and clears her throat, going serious. “Really, though,” she says, looking at me. “Why did you call me, Thad? What is this?”
“I told you. I wanted to catch up with you after what happened.”
“Were you not satisfied with your Goldilocks rating?” she asks.
“Yeah, about that…” I grin. “I’m sorry if those questions made you feel uncomfortable. That’s just something I like to do for a post-coital laugh but you weren’t laughing — so I backed off.”
“It’s okay,” she says, smiling. “It was funny, I was just…” Her eyes fall on the table between us. “I was in a small state of shock that morning.”
I nod. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
I think back to that morning, that night. Every moment of it. From the start of the reunion to Sally’s little game. I know better than to mention that here now unless I want to leave this place wearing that vodka tonic resting in her fingers.
“Okay…” I take a drink to wet my throat. “I don’t know if you know this about me but I have sex a lot.”
She doesn’t blink. “You don’t say?”
“So, it’s not unusual for me to wake up next to a woman after a night of heavy drinking,” I continue. “Hell, I’ve even woken up next to Max a few times.”
Her brow furrows.
I raise a pointed finger. “But always with a lady resting betwixt, as you know…”
“Where are you going with this, Thad?” she asks, chuckling.
“Good question. Let me back up here…” I take another sip
of my drink. “Pheebs, I woke up that morning and I felt really good. I opened my eyes, looked around, and you were there. Naked and beautiful. Eyes closed, breathing softly.” I pause. “It felt good.”
She blushes — the same way she did with Max — and I feel it all the way down in my toes. Her throat clears as she picks up her glass and takes a much-needed drink to let it all sink in.
“You called me because you wanted to feel good again?” she asks.
“Exactly.”
“And did this good feeling strike you before or after you felt up my boob in my sleep?”
I hiss through shameful guilt. “After? Before?” I wait for a reaction but she gives me nothing. “Shit. Which answer gets me in less trouble?”
She laughs. “It’s okay, Thad. I, uh… I felt really good that morning, too.”
“Yeah?”
“Once the shock wore off, of course.”
I bite my inner cheek. “Felt good because of Max… or because of me?”
She sits back, breathing in as she thinks. “Both, actually.”
“I like you, Phoebe,” I say, feeling a little more comfortable. “I didn’t think I would but I do… and I would love to like you some more.”
Her pink cheeks shine again. “You have a fun way with words,” she notes.
“Oh, you have no idea.”
She tilts her head down to obscure her growing grin.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
She relaxes and nods. “I could eat.”
I pour back the rest of my drink and set the empty glass down. “Finish off your tonic and we’ll get out of here.”
Phoebe raises her glass, still half-full, and brings it to her lips. She takes one large gulp of it to catch up with me and sets it down next to mine.
“All right,” she says, wiping the moisture from her bottom lip. “Let’s go.”
Goddamn.
This is definitely my lucky night.
Fifteen
Phoebe
“Do you like sushi?”
I flinch. “Yeah, why?”
Thad looks at me with a wide grin and points down the crowded street. “I know a great place just up ahead here. Best damn gyoza in Hollywood.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, holding my breath. I glance around the familiar corner. Oh, god, he’s not taking me to the same place as—
