Ball Peen Hammer

by Lauren Rowe

  “No, I am. It’s just that I’m Ball Peen Hammer. Don’t you understand?”

  Dax shakes his head.

  I exhale with exasperation. “I can barely stand to be away from her, and when I’m near her, I gotta touch her every second or else I feel like I’m gonna die. It’s not normal how much I wanna touch her. And I’m not even talking about sex—I just gotta hold her hand or touch her hair or rub her thigh or I else feel like I’m gonna explode.” I rub my face. “She looks at me with those big brown eyes of hers and I melt. And worst of all, the thing that’s the absolute worst, is how guilty I feel if I even look at another woman. Shit, Dax! I couldn’t even flirt with any of the hot chicks at my auditions today because I felt like I was cheating on her somehow—and I’m a guy who makes his living making women want to fuck me! How the fuck can I make the horny pickles wanna hurl themselves outta their jars at me when I’m feeling like this? It doesn’t pencil.” I’m rambling—I know I am—but I can’t stop myself. “I just met her, Dax. I barely know her. She could be planning to chop me up and put my parts into six trash bags, for all I know.” My mind is reeling. My chest is heaving. I had no intention of saying all that. I rub my face. “Feelings this intense and fast can’t possibly be real. It’s just not normal.”

  There’s a long beat.

  Fish is wearing a facial expression I’d label as, “sucks to be you,” but Colin and Dax are looking at me with nothing but sincere sympathy.

  “Colin, hand me one of those beers,” I grit out, my jaw muscles pulsing.

  Colin hands me a bottle. “Numb the torturous pain of love, Peenie Weenie.”

  I take a long guzzle of my beer. “I can’t make it work,” I say, filling the silence. “I’m fucked.”

  “I guess that depends on your definition of ‘fucked,’” Dax says. “Because it sure sounds to me like you’re the opposite of fucked.”

  “What’s the opposite of ‘fucked’?” Colin asks.

  “Fuuuuucked,” Fish offers suggestively, a smirk on his face, and everyone but me laughs.

  I sip my beer, my pulse pounding in my ears, but I don’t speak.

  “I totally knew you fucked her, by the way,” Dax says. “The minute I met Maddy, I knew it.”

  “Well, that’s not exactly a psychic phenomenon,” Colin says. “Keane and Maddy haven’t been able to keep their hands off each other since they got here. They haven’t been what I’d call ‘discreet.’”

  “No, I mean, before they got all hands-y. I’m talking about when I very first opened my front door and laid eyes on Maddy, I knew. I was like, ‘Oh, boy, he fucked her.’”

  “Ha! Well, guess what, Millionaire Matchmaker?” I say. “You were dead wrong about that. When Maddy and I first arrived, we hadn’t even fucked yet.”

  “Semantics. I’m saying I saw her and instantly knew it was a done deal, one way or another.”

  “And how’d you know that, genius? Just because she’s a pickle? Because I’ll have you know I’m very selective.”

  “No, dumbshit, because she’s exactly your type.”

  I’m flabbergasted. “What are you talking about? Maddy’s not my type. She’s the complete opposite of my type.”

  “No, I’m not talking about all the Barbies and Bambis you’ve been ‘hunting’ lately to numb the pain of your tortured soul. I’m talking about your real type of girl—from before you became a complete douche.” He snaps his fingers. “Who was that girl who used to live across the street from us? Oh man, that girl owned your ass. Remember her? I’ve never seen you so into a girl before or since—well, until now, that is.”

  “Kelsey,” I say softly, the hairs on my arms standing on end.

  “That’s right. Kelsey Kerrington. Nothing like your first love, right, bro? Maddy reminds me of her. Curvy. Sweet. Girl next door. Kind of snarky but not too edgy. Your type on a silver platter, right down to those little freckles on her nose.”

  My heart lurches in my throat. Holy shit.

  “Yup,” Fish says, swigging his beer. “We’ve all got our types, huh? It’s like we’re all just avatars of ourselves.”

  “What?” Colin says, chuckling.

  “Hey, Keane,” Dax says softly.

  My eyes train on my baby brother, but I can’t speak.

  “Go across the hall and talk to her, man,” Dax continues. “When Maddy came over earlier, she looked pretty rough. At the very least, give that poor girl some verbal duct tape for her heart, because I’m pretty sure it’s shattering right about now.”

  “Oh, that’s a sick lyric,” Colin says. “Fish, write that shit down. ‘Verbal duct tape for her heart.’”

  I exhale. Dax is right. It’s time for me to nut up and tell Maddy this friends-with-benefits thing isn’t working for me anymore.

  “Just tell her the truth,” Dax continues. “It’s not Maddy’s fault she’s fallen for a guy with the emotional IQ of a pollywog.”

  I can’t even be offended. Dax is right: I’ve got the emotional IQ of a pollywog.

  I put down my beer bottle and begin shuffling toward the front door of the apartment. “Thanks, Daxy,” I say, my heart panging as I open the front door.

  “Any time, big bro.”

  “I can always count on you to give it to me straight.”

  “That’s ’cause I love you the most.”

  Chapter 49

  Maddy

  Tuesday, 11:52 p.m.

  I feel Keane’s warm body spooning me in the bed and I let out a low moan of relief and pleasure. “Hi,” I whisper, a huge smile overtaking my face. I clutch his arms around me. “I missed you.”

  “Sorry to wake you,” Keane’s voice says softly in my ear.

  “Are you kidding? I’ve been horny for two solid days, sweet cheeks.”

  I turn onto my opposite side to face him and lean in to kiss his soft lips, but Keane pulls back. “Hang on a second, Maddy. We gotta talk.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Oh, shit. I was right. This is it. “How were your auditions?” I ask lamely, wanting to stave off the bad news as long as possible.

  Keane pauses.

  “I’m dying to hear about your day,” I whisper. “We’ll talk after that, okay?” I swallow hard. “Please?”

  Keane proceeds to give me brief descriptions of his various auditions throughout the day, his face mere inches from mine in the dark, but his voice is stiff and restrained. Clearly, this isn’t what he came in here to talk about.

  I nuzzle my nose against Keane’s and close my eyes as I listen to him talk. Something tells me this is the last time I’m going to feel his body against mine and I want to savor it. “Sounds like everything went great,” I say when he’s finished giving me the rundown of his day.

  “We’ll see.”

  “So do you have any more auditions coming up or was today it?”

  “One more,” he whispers. “Tomorrow morning before I head to the airport.”

  My breathing hitches. “You’re heading home tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been gone a full week. I gotta get home, make some money.”

  “But aren’t there gonna be... I dunno... callbacks and stuff?”

  “If I’m lucky, yeah. But maybe not. If so, I’ll fly back down. Flights are cheap right now. I really gotta get home.”

  “Oh.” I feel like I’m gonna cry, but I stuff my emotions down. “Do you need a ride to the airport tomorrow?”

  “No, Fish said he’d drive me to my audition, and then I’ll just Uber it to the airport when I’m done.”

  I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. “Okay,” I manage to say.

  Keane lets out a long sigh. “Maddy, listen, I—”

  “Don’t say it,” I say abruptly, my body stiffening in the bed.

  “No, but, listen, I—”

  “No,” I say emphatically. “Please, Keane. Don’t say it.”

  There’s a beat.

 
; “You don’t need to say it out loud to me,” I say evenly. “There was an expiration date on this thing and I knew it from the start. We agreed it would last only as long as you’re in town and now you’re leaving so it’s over. Nothing else needs to be said.”

  “You don’t wanna talk about it? About what happened Sunday night?”

  “No. It’s over now so there’s no point in talking about anything.”

  There’s silence for a long beat.

  Oh my God, I can’t stand it. I swore to myself I wouldn’t spiral into pathetic desperation during this conversation, but now that it’s actually happening, I’m gonna explode if I don’t speak my mind. “Except for this one thing I wanna say,” I blurt. I take a deep breath. “It turns out I don’t do the friends-with-benefits thing all that well, okay? I admit that. I’m sorry, I thought I could do it, but I can’t. I’m sorry, I...” I swallow hard, stuffing down tears. “I just totally suck at it.”

  “Maddy,” Keane breathes. He touches my face in the dark, but I pull back and swat him away.

  “Don’t,” I say. “Please. It’s too confusing for me. I didn’t mean to mislead you. I thought I was capable of flinging, but I’m just not wired that way.” I don’t want them to, but tears flood my eyes. “I’m sorry. I am what I am.”

  “What you are is amazing,” he whispers. “Don’t cry. You’re perfect.”

  “Just not for you.”

  “Maddy, please understand,” Keane says, his voice quavering. “I’m not at a place in my life where I can—”

  “I know. You’ve been straightforward about that, all along. This is all on me. I’m not mad at you. I don’t feel misled. I truly thought I could be a man-eater, but I can’t.” I don’t know how I’m keeping my tears at bay, but I am. “I don’t know how to give my body to someone without giving my heart, too. It’s just not in my DNA.” I snort to myself. “I guess I’m more like my mother than I realized.”

  “Maddy,” Keane breathes, his voice full of emotion. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. That’s the truth. I love being your friend. I don’t want to lose you.”

  I pause, processing what he’s said. “I have no idea what that means,” I finally say.

  “It means I still want you in my life. I wanna talk to you. Find out how you’re doing.” He touches my hair. “It means I still wanna be your friend.”

  I stiffen, all the hurt and anger I’ve felt all day rising up inside of me. “No, thanks. From what I’ve seen, you can be a pretty shitty-ass friend.”

  Keane sits up in the dark. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  I sit up in the bed, too. “It means you didn’t even bother to return my texts today, even though you knew I was sitting here, dying to hear from you—even though I’ve been here every step of the way, cheering you on.” I wipe my eyes and jut my chin at him in the dark. “It means my heart is too invested to sit around and let you act like I’m just one of the many friends you choose to ignore when it suits you. It means I have feelings and you’ve hurt them and I’m not gonna pretend otherwise. ”

  Keane is quiet for a long beat. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was just wrapped up in my shit today. I won’t ignore you again. I was a total prick today.”

  I exhale but don’t reply.

  “So if I promise not to ignore your texts, does that mean we’re good—you’re willing to be my friend when I leave here?” he asks feebly.

  “Honestly, I don’t know if I can, Keane,” I say, my voice brimming with emotion. “I mean, yeah, I’m sure I can be friends with Ball Peen Hammer. That’s easy. We’ll still do the videos—I’ll send you a homework assignment every morning and edit whatever you send me.”

  “Goddammit, Maddy, I’m not even thinking about that stuff. I’m talking about us.”

  “And will you still be in my movie?” I ask, ignoring his comment.

  Keane breathes deeply and I can see the silhouette of his head shaking in the darkened room.

  “You won’t?” I ask, incredulous.

  “Of course, I will. But that’s not at all what—”

  “Good. We can shoot whenever you’re here in L.A. for auditions or whatever, okay? No need for you to make a special trip or give me any special treatment.”

  “Maddy, stop it. You’re going all hardcore friend-zone on my ass. Please, I’m not even thinking about my videos or your movie. I wanna know if you’re gonna be my friend after I leave—my real friend—you know, answer my calls and texts. Laugh at my jokes. Talk to me the way you always do.” He sighs. “You know, not totally hate my guts.”

  I let out a long exhale. “Keane, I won’t hate your guts. I couldn’t even if I wanted to—though I’m sure it’d be easier for me if I could.” I rub my face. “I’m not saying you’re dead to me, okay? This isn’t The Godfather. I’m just saying I can’t handle being ‘friends’ with you the way we were before. Everything’s changed for me and I can’t go backward. I can’t open my heart to you anymore or hold your hand or cuddle with you while we watch a movie. I can’t let you move the hair out of my eyes.” I swallow hard, stuffing back my tears. “All that stuff is over, Keane. Because being touched by you like that will just make me want to...” I swallow hard again. “Make love to you,” I squeak out. My chest tightens. “And I’m not willing to torture myself that way.” Oh, God, my voice is trembling. “Everything’s different now and I’m not willing to pretend it’s not.”

  “So what does that mean for us?” Keane asks softly. “We’re not even friends?” His voice is strained.

  I pause for a long time, considering my answer. “I can be ‘friends’ with Ball Peen Hammer, like I said,” I finally reply, my voice strained. “But when it comes to Keane Morgan...” I swallow hard, stuffing down my emotion. “I can’t pretend I don’t want more.”

  Keane is quiet for a long time. I can’t see his features clearly in the darkened room, but I can make out his silhouette as he lowers his head and runs his fingers through his hair.

  The long silence between us is excruciating, but I can’t think of anything else to say. I’ve already said ten thousand times more than I’d sworn to myself I would. The ball’s in his court. I’ve laid myself bare.

  “Can I kiss you one last time?” Keane finally asks softly, his voice barely audible.

  “No,” I say flatly. “My heart won’t understand, even if my brain tries its best to explain the situation to it.” I take a large gulp of air, trying to keep my emotions from seeping out of my eyes.

  Keane makes an anguished sound as he rolls off the bed to standing. “Okay, Maddy. See ya ’round, I guess.” His voice breaks. “I’m so sorry, Maddy. I’ve loved every minute—”

  “Please don’t,” I say. “This was the deal. I knew it from the start. Nothing to apologize for.” I take a deep breath. “And no need to say goodbye. We’ll be doing the videos. We’ll talk or text every day, I’m sure.”

  “I’m sorry, Maddy.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for. It was fun while it lasted.”

  Keane shuffles toward the door of my bedroom in the dark, but he stops before leaving and turns around. “Maddy?” he says softly.

  My eyes are stinging. My throat is in danger of closing up. I don’t reply.

  Keane lets out a long exhale. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Good luck with your audition tomorrow,” I say calmly in reply. “There’s no doubt in my mind they’re gonna fall head over heels in love with you, Keane.” I bite my tongue, forcing myself not to say the words that are practically lurching from its tip: Exactly the way I have.

  Chapter 50

  Keane

  Tuesday, 11:42 a.m.

  “Peenie,” Zander says. “Wake up.”

  I don’t stir.

  “Peenie!” Zander barks. “Melissa called. She wants you to call her right away. She’s got a job for you.”

  I don’t move a muscle.

  “Get up, baby doll!” Zander booms, whacking my shoulder.

&nbs
p; I jolt at his assault. “You’re Satan,” I grumble. “I was having a sex dream. Now I’m totally traumatized.”

  Zander pushes on my shoulder. “Get the fuck up, sweet meat. Oh, nice woody.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Rub that monster out and then call Melissa. She said she’s got a huge job for you. Come on, Peenie. We got rent to pay and I’m not gonna pay you alimony after I divorce your ass for being a lazy, self-pitying gold-digger.” Zander shoves my phone at me. “The Z-train leaves for the gym in exactly thirty-eight minutes and you best get your miserable ass on it.” He claps his hands together loudly, right into my ear, making me jolt again. “No more feeling sorry for yourself, baby doll!”

  “Motherfucker!” I shout. “Stop it!”

  “I’m gonna get some endorphins pumping into that bloodstream of yours and cheer your mopey ass right up!” He whacks me across the head. “Get the fuck up and stop feeling sorry for yourself, fool. It’s been three fucking weeks. She’s obviously moved on and so should you.”

  I put my forearm over my eyes. “Stop yelling at me, fucker. Me no likey.”

  “I’m making eggs and turkey-bacon for you, sweet meat,” Zander shouts over his shoulder as he leaves my bedroom. “Get the fuck up.”

  Jesus. Talk about a rude awakening. No man should be awakened by a dude screaming in his ear when he’s in the middle of dreaming about eating a woman’s pussy.

  Maddy.

  Goddammit, I can’t stop thinking about that girl night and day, no matter how hard I try. I thought once I got home to Seattle and back in the swing of my awesome life again, all those crazy-intense feelings I’d been having for Maddy would quickly fade—but, man, was I wrong.

  I reach down and grab my hard-on underneath my briefs and begin jerking myself off, giving The Talented Mr. Ripley yet another dose of the only kind of action he’s seen for the past three weeks since I’ve been home, and, despite my best intentions to not think about Maddy again while jacking off, my thoughts immediately drift to her. I swear to God I could taste Maddy’s pussy in the dream I was just having. And, man, she tasted good.