by Lauren Rowe
Ryan can’t help but chuckle at that.
“She was really grateful I’d offered him up,” Z continues, snickering. “And you know what women do when they’re grateful, don’t you?”
Ryan grins. “Yeah, I sure do.”
Zander’s smile stretches across the full width of his handsome face. “Peenie was just being a good wingman, Captain, going the extra mile for his beloved wife.” Z smiles at me lovingly. “Thanks again, Peenie. You da best. Best night of my life.”
“Anything for you, Z. You know that.”
Zander looks at Ryan again. “You wouldn’t blame Peen for dying his hair blue if you saw this girl.” He sighs reverently. “Daphne.”
“Good times?” Ryan asks.
“I think I’m in love.”
“So did this Daphne girl wind up dying her hair to match Peen’s after she saw the color on him?”
Z motions to me like the answer’s self-explanatory. “What do you think?”
Ryan and Zander burst out laughing.
“Hey,” I say, but I’m smiling.
“You owe him one, Zander,” Ryan says. “He looks fucking ridiculous.”
“Oh, I know. Peenie fell hard on his sword for me this time.”
Ryan glares at me. “Wipe that goofy grin off your face, Papa Smurf. I was really worried about you. And Dax is going out of his head. He thought maybe you fell off your balcony or something—which, knowing you, isn’t outside the realm of possibility.”
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I just didn’t check my phone for a few days, that’s all. You know how I get sometimes. I hate being reachable every minute of every day—it stresses me out.” I flash him my dimples, the ones the ladies can never resist, and Ryan returns my smile, which I take as a very good sign. “Sorry, Rum Cake,” I continue. “I really am. I was just taking a technology-vacay for a bit, I guess—I wasn’t avoiding anybody in particular. I was just...” I sigh. “You know how I get sometimes.”
Ryan looks at me sympathetically. “Yeah, I know.”
There’s a long beat, during which all anger seems to evaporate from Ryan’s body.
“So, you’ve got a thing for MILFs these days, huh?” Ryan asks.
“Divorced soccer moms.” I wink. “The produce section during school hours is a MILF-y wonderland. Highly recommend. Five stars.”
Ryan chuckles.
I shrug. “Nothing serious for me these days; you know how it is.”
“Are all the MILFs divorced?”
“Mostly.”
“If they’re not, you’re following the Ten Year Rule like a good boy, right?”
“Yes, Master Yoda.”
“Good boy.” Ryan exhales again and his eyes flash with unmistakable sympathy for a brief moment. “Keane, you can’t go MIA like that on us, okay? If I didn’t find you here today, we were gonna tell Mom and Dad.”
I’m aghast. “No.”
“Yes.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me. Not Mom.”
“Well, answer your goddamned phone more than once a week and we won’t have to resort to that.”
“Shit. You’re not serious, are you?”
“Yes, I am. Why the fuck didn’t you at least answer Dax? You always answer Dax. He said he called and texted a bunch of times. He was really worried, Keane.”
I shrug. “Dax said he wanted me to do him a favor so I didn’t call him back right away. And then I just forgot. Sorry. I wasn’t avoiding him on purpose. I was just busy, you know, being every woman’s fantasy.” I flash him my dimples again, but this time, Ryan shoots me a look of sheer annoyance.
“You know what, Keane? This is bullshit,” Ryan says. “I know things haven’t worked out the way you’d hoped, but that’s life. It’s time for you to move on and grow up. This stunted-teenager routine is getting old. Everyone faces disappointment in life. Pick yourself up and move on.”
I’m shocked and I’m sure my face shows it. Why’s he turning all parental on me all of a sudden?
Ryan’s face turns sympathetic. “Keaney, you can’t let one setback turn you into a complete loser for the rest of your life.”
I press my lips together. “It wasn’t just a setback, Ryan. It was everything.”
Ryan exhales. “No, it wasn’t. You think so, but you’re wrong. Get up, wipe the dirt off your knees, and move the fuck on. Your dream didn’t work out? So find a new dream.”
I swallow hard, not knowing what to say.
“Well, glad to see you’re all right,” Ryan says after an awkward beat. “I’ve got shit to do. Call Dax.” He turns to leave.
“Ry, wait.”
But Ryan doesn’t stop. He continues striding toward the front door, obviously done with me.
“Ryan, wait. Ryan.”
Ryan stops and looks at me.
“I’ve got a situation that can only be described as an emergency.”
Ryan looks concerned. “What happened?”
I grimace, not wanting to tell him.
“What is it, Keane?”
“It’s bad.”
Ryan’s eyes darken with anxiety. “Did you get some girl pregnant?”
I make a face. “No. I’m always really careful about that.” I look at Z. “Unlike you, dumbshit.”
“Hey, antibiotics cleared that right up.”
We both laugh.
Ryan exhales. “What is it? You owe someone money? Is some guy named Johnny T-Bags threatening to break your legs?”
“No, I’m good on money. Tips have been really good.”
“Then what?”
I pause.
Ryan throws his hands up in a gesture of impatience. “I don’t have all day, fucker. Spit it the fuck out.”
I slowly hand Ryan my phone, my head bowed. “Read all Daxy’s texts in order, starting from the bottom, and then look at the string of texts with someone named Maddy Milliken.”
“Maddy Milliken? Is she related to Kat’s friend Hannah Banana Montana Milliken?”
I roll my eyes and slap my forehead. Jesus. Where the fuck was Ryan four days ago? “Just read everything,” I say. “It’s too much to explain.”
Ryan grabs my phone and takes a seat on my couch, and for what seems like forever, he sits, his head lowered, his gaze concentrated on my phone. Occasionally, Ryan laughs or says, “Oh, Jesus,” but, mostly, he remains very quiet.
Finally, Ryan looks up. “Peen, you’re the biggest idiot I know, hands down.”
“I know,” I say.
Ryan whips his hard glare onto Z. “And you’re a close fucking second.”
“Sorry,” Z says. “I was just trying to help.”
“Help me, Ryan, please,” I say. “I don’t wanna fuck things up for Dax.”
“What am I gonna do with you, Keaney?” Ryan says, rolling his eyes. “Shit.”
“I don’t mind fucking shit up for myself—obviously,” I say, motioning to my blue hair. “But I don’t wanna fuck things up for Dax. All his dreams are about to come true.”
“Yeah, I know. Shit. Gimme a second.” Ryan looks up again, biting the inside of his cheek.
“I must admit I can’t understand how me driving with this chick is supposed to have anything to do with Dax’s record label...” I begin.
“Shut up, Peen,” Ryan barks. “I’m thinking.”
I wait.
“Dax is being crazy about the record-label part, but it doesn’t matter,” Ryan finally concludes. “He’s under pressure and we gotta support him on this one, even if he’s being paranoid. The main thing is he wants to keep everyone happy in Reed’s inner circle, and I get that. Sort of. Regardless, if he promised to help Hannah, then we gotta help him deliver on his promise. We’re not gonna let him look like an idiot with the people who hang out with his new boss.”
I nod.
“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do, shit-for-brains. I’ll call this Maddy girl and pretend to be you.”
I breathe a huge sigh of relief. Ryan’s our family’s fixer. If he’s o
n the job, everything’s gonna be fine.
“I know just what to say to her,” Ryan continues.
“Thanks, Ry.”
“Now go to your room and get your shit packed for L.A. and then get your sorry ass to bed.”
“Wait, what? You’re gonna make me drive to L.A. with this chick?”
“You got a better idea?”
“No,” I admit. “But I can’t go to L.A. tomorrow. I promised to take my wife to the Mariner’s game on Thursday.”
“Yeah, with my tickets, you twat-head.”
“But we were gonna have a romantic night out.”
Ryan looks at Z. “You got someone you can take to the game on Thursday night, Z?”
Zander smiles. “I sure do.”
“Traitor,” I say.
“Go get packed,” Ryan commands, his patience clearly at its breaking point. “You’re going to L.A.”
“Seriously, man,” I say. “Don’t make me sit in a car with this Maddy chick for three fucking days—she hates my guts.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Zander interjects. “She hates my guts—she’s just severely annoyed with you. Once she finds out my dick’s not yours, all will be forgiven. Right, Cap’n?”
Ryan sighs. “Hopefully. I’ll do my best when I talk to her.”
I let out a deep sigh of resignation. Fuck. I can’t figure out a way to get myself out of this road-trip from hell.
“Come on, Peen,” Ryan says. “Time to man up.”
“Yeah, I know.” I let out another long sigh. “Thanks for helping me, Ryan. I owe you one.”
“Dude, you owe me, like, a thousand. You’d need seven lifetimes to pay me back for all the shit I’ve done for you.”
“And that’s why I love you the most.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go pack a bag and get your ass to bed. You gotta be well rested if you’re gonna have any chance of making this girl think you’re a semi-normal human tomorrow.”
“Will you call Daxy for me?”
“Yeah, I got it covered. I’ll tell him to chill the fuck out and stop acting like a fucking lunatic.”
“Thanks.”
“But don’t fuck this up for Daxy—I’m warning you. He’s got a lot riding on this album. We all gotta support him however we can. This is big.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior—handsome and happy, all the livelong day.” I wink at him. “’Night, brah.” I turn and shuffle toward my bedroom.
“Hey,” Ryan calls after me.
I stop and turn around.
“Whatever you do, don’t fuck this girl, Keane. That won’t end well and you know it, and we don’t wanna create unnecessary drama for Dax, like he said. She’s gonna live across the hall from him, remember? He’s not acting crazy about that part. She’s off-limits, Keane.”
I throw up my hands like I’m offended at the suggestion. “Jesus Christ, Ryan, I’m not gonna fuck Maddy Milliken. I can already tell she’s annoying as shit, a total tight-ass. Definitely not my type.”
“Well, I think she’s adorable,” Z sniffs.
“If by ‘adorable’ you mean annoying,” I say. “Don’t worry, I’ll treat her like a little sister—an annoying little sister who hauls off and calls people ‘dickweed’ before she’s even bothered to provide a fuck’s worth of exposition in her goddamned texts.”
Zander laughs. “Don’t forget ‘flaming asshole.’ She called you that, too.”
“Yeah, well, that was only after she saw your baloney pony, you fucker.”
“No way. She called you a ‘flaming asshole’ way before I sent her a smiling photo of Mr. Happy.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“She sure as shit did.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Ryan says sharply, and we both stop and stare at him. “God, you’re both such fucking idiots.”
Z and I smile at each other.
“What the fuck were you two thinking, sending this poor girl an unsolicited photo of Z’s junk?” Ryan says. “Not cool. You can’t be doing that shit, guys.”
“Hey, I had nothing to do with it,” I say, holding up my hands.
“It’s true,” Z says. “That one’s on me.”
Ryan shakes his head. “Jesus, Z. You don’t even know this girl. You gotta be careful with dick-pics, especially with a girl you don’t know.”
“Ah,” Zander says. “But sometimes a dick-pic to a chick-chick isn’t really a dick-pick to a chick-chick, son.”
“E-i-e-i-o,” I add, and Zander laughs.
Ryan looks up at the ceiling, apparently praying for patience. “Go pack your bag, Keane. You gotta be handsome and happy bright and early tomorrow.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” I say, saluting him. “Don’t worry, come tomorrow morning, Maddy Milliken won’t be able to resist my ebullient charm.”
“Ooooh, great word,” Zander says.
“No,” Ryan says emphatically. “Don’t try to charm her, for the love of God. No Ball Peen Hammer shit, okay? Just pretend to be normal, for once in your life.”
“Gotcha,” I say, winking. “Normal shit, all the livelong day.”
Zander chuckles. “Good luck with that.”
“And don’t try to get a rise out of her either, like you always do with people who annoy you,” Ryan adds. “Just engage in pleasant conversation about the weather or, I dunno, ask her about her hobbies, hopes, and dreams.”
“Of course,” I say. “The ol’ H, H, and Ds. I got this, baby doll. Ain’t no thang.”
“And don’t start calling her by some weird nicknames within the first thirty seconds of meeting her, either,” Ryan says. “Not every woman likes to be treated like your fraternity brother, Keane. You gotta feel her out before unleashing the Peen on her.”
“I don’t treat people like my fraternity brother,” I say defensively. “I wasn’t even in a fraternity.”
“I mean don’t start calling her Mad Dog or baby doll or sweet cheeks or some other shit like that within the first thirty seconds, okay? Go easy on her. Get a read on her first before you barrage her with your unbridled Peenie-ness.”
“Save your breath, Rum Cake. Women love me.”
“They do,” Zander says. “Women love Peenie. And so do I, by the way.” He winks.
“Thank you,” I say. “I love you, too.”
Ryan exhales. “You two are Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumbshit, I swear to fucking God.”
Zander and I simultaneously reach out and high-five each other.
“Just pretend to be normal, that’s all I’m saying,” Ryan continues.
“You got it, baby,” I say. “One order of Normal Dude coming right up—hold the mayo. So is that it? Are we done?”
“Yeah.”
“Okeedoke. Thanks again for saving my bacon, brah.” I turn around and shuffle toward my room. “Nighty night.”
“Don’t fuck this up,” Ryan barks at me as I walk away.
“I heard you the seventh time,” I call over my shoulder. “No fucking up will transpire.”
I hear Zander chuckling behind me.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing,” Ryan says. “You’re as big an idiot as Peen. You can’t send a dick-pic to a girl you don’t even know, Z.”
“It was a strategy, Captain,” Zander replies. “I was sussing her.”
“What?”
“I was sussing her,” Z says slowly, emphasizing every sound. “I was sussing Maddy Milliken. Back me up on this, Wifey.”
I stop and turn around, just before reaching the threshold of my bedroom. “Yup. Z was full-on sussing Maddy Milliken.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?”
“Sussing,” Zander says. “You know, like luring a gopher outta hole.”
Ryan makes a face that communicates his disbelief. “Well, I’m sure this poor girl didn’t feel sussed by your big, black cock, Zander—I’m pretty sure she felt more like traumatized. That’s quite a dick you got there, son.”
“And fuzzy balls,” I add.
“
Yee-boy!” Zander shouts, and I laugh.
“Go to your room, Keane,” Ryan says, pointing sternly to my bedroom like he’s ordering a misbehaving beagle into his doghouse.
“Okay, okay,” I say. I turn around and stride purposefully into my bedroom, a huge smile on my face. But just as I turn to shut my door, I hear Ryan’s scolding voice one last time:
“Jesus, Zander. Haven’t you ever heard of man-scaping, for fuck’s sake? Fuck.”
Chapter 10
Maddy
Wednesday, 8:02 a.m.
He’s got blue hair.
“Hi,” I say, shaking Keane’s hand.
Keane Morgan’s got blue hair? Well, that’s an unexpected development. His hair is tousled and spikey at the same time—the kind of hairstyle a guy fusses over in the mirror for a solid twenty minutes in order to make it look like he’s just rolled out of bed... and... it’s... blue.
Huh.
I’ve seen plenty of girls with blue hair—and I typically think it’s a super cute look for them—but I’ve never seen this look on a guy. And certainly not on a guy who looks like he just rolled in from playing beer pong at a frat party. Definitely not what I was expecting.
Other than his unexpectedly blue hair, however, I must admit Keane Morgan’s an outrageously good-lookin’ guy. Hannah warned me all Kat’s brothers are as bizarrely attractive as their stupefying sister, of course, but I wasn’t prepared for Keane to be this big a freak. I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes quite this blue in all my life. Is he wearing colored contact lenses? Or is the implausible color of his eyes some sort of optical illusion, a false suggestion subliminally implanted into my brain by his startling hair?
“Hey, Maddy,” Keane says, shaking my hand and flashing a smile that reveals outlandish dimples and straight, white teeth. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maddy.”
“Uh, thanks?” I warble. Shoot! I’m doing that question-mark thing with my voice again. I pull my palm from his and cross my arms. “Thanks,” I amend.
Holy bajeebus. Keane’s body is crazy-fit. The way he’s filling out his simple jeans and T-shirt is nothing short of insanity-sauce. Even his frickin’ forearms are attractive, for the love of Adonis. His hands. His ears. Is there anything even remotely unattractive on this guy other than his blue hair?
