Guy Hater

by Sterling, J.

  Coordinating our schedules so I could spend time with Frank had never even occurred to me. I could have smacked myself for not considering how difficult it might be to date someone who owned a bar until I was knee-deep in it. Not that I would have changed a thing, but I might have been more mentally prepared for it. Frank worked long hours and spent the majority of his time at Sam’s, which I understood completely, but it meant I spent a lot of time there as well.

  He came over to my place on Thursdays, his only evening off, but fell asleep as soon as his head hit my lap on the couch. Instead of waking him, I let him sleep while Britney and I watched our TV shows around his snores. He apologized profusely once he woke up, but I assured him there was nothing to apologize for. The man worked hard, and if he wanted to sleep on my lap every night of the week, I’d gladly let him.

  If I hadn’t been spending so many of my evenings at the bar, then I wouldn’t have met Jess as soon as I did. I was beyond thankful that Nick’s girlfriend was nice and welcomed me with open arms.

  “I’m so happy to meet you,” Jess had said, her eyes bright. “And thank you for making Frank smile again. I’ve never seen him so happy. But then again, I haven’t known him very long, so maybe I’m not the best reference,” she said with a laugh, and I liked her instantly. She was career-driven, motivated, and smart. And she adored Nick just as much as he adored her.

  We spent a lot of time together while our guys worked, and she filled me in on her history with Nick. Amazed, I asked her no less than ten times if she was joking, or maybe making up parts of their story, and she assured me that she wasn’t. I wouldn’t have believed it if I’d heard it through the grapevine, would have been sure that the truth must have gotten lost somewhere in translation like a bad game of telephone. Nick and Jess’s story was insane, but in the end, it only proved to strengthen my belief in the power of love and what it was capable of.

  “Do you think you two will get married?” I'd asked her as we’d hung out at the bar one evening. I had never met a couple, regardless of age, who had overcome the number of roadblocks to their relationship that they had.

  “Without a doubt,” Jess said with a smile. “But not anytime soon.”

  I smiled back at her, loving her practicality and her heart. “Not in a rush?”

  “I know I want to spend the rest of my life with Nick, but I don’t want to get married yet. A piece of paper doesn’t change how I feel about him. And I’m not ready for kids, so the whole wedding thing can wait, as far as I’m concerned.”

  I laughed. “You’re so not a typical girl.”

  “Tell me about it,” she said with a grin, lifting her glass in a salute.

  I tapped my glass to hers, still processing all that she had told me. After taking a sip, I said, “I still can’t believe everything you two went through. That must have been really hard.”

  “It was at the time. I was a mess. You and Frank don’t have an easy story either, you know. Maybe all the drama is some sort of prerequisite to landing a Fisher brother.”

  I hadn’t thought about it that way before, and would have never considered comparing my story to Jess’s, but maybe she was right.

  “They better be worth it.” My gaze slipped to Frank pouring a beer, and his eyes instantly darted up to meet mine from across the room as if he had sensed me staring.

  Jess laughed as she sipped her No Bad Days cocktail. “You know as well as I do that they are.”

  I couldn’t have agreed more.

  • • •

  Date number two hadn’t happened the night after date number one like Frank had planned since he couldn’t get away from the bar for very long. The nights we spent together at the bar didn’t count as real dates, he’d said, so our next official date had to wait.

  With those rules in place, the second date had actually been over a week later, a daytime date on a Saturday morning before he went to work. We rode out to his favorite spot in Malibu and spent hours lying in the sand, talking, eating from the picnic basket he had packed, and making out. Being with him excited me so much, I felt like a teenager again.

  “You live in Marina del Rey and you work in Santa Monica,” I said to Frank as I lay back in his lap, sunlight soaking into my skin as he ran his fingers through my hair. “Why do you come all the way out to Malibu to go to the beach? You realize this makes no sense, don’t you?” Malibu was gorgeous, but it wasn’t the easiest place to get to with all the traffic.

  He looked around us, and I followed his gaze to the surfers catching waves and the paddleboarders keeping their distance. Then he shrugged, brushing his fingers through my hair like he’d been doing for the last hour.

  “I’ve just always liked it here. It’s a little less crowded. The waves are nicer, and if you time it right, you can watch the dolphins.”

  I popped up. “Dolphins?”

  “Every morning and every evening. They’re incredible.”

  “And the waves.” Curious, I squinted at him. “Do you surf and I didn’t know?”

  “Yeah. I can’t get my board on my bike, though, so I haven’t surfed here in a while.”

  Crap. Imagining Frank on a surfboard, all wet and muscular paddling in the water, took my fantasies to a whole other level. I leaned back into his lap and grabbed his hand, moving it back onto my head.

  “Now who’s the bossy one?” he asked, teasing me, but started playing with my hair again almost instantly.

  “What can I say?” I sighed as my eyes fell closed. “I like the way your man hands feel in my hair.”

  • • •

  Tonight was officially our third date, even though we’d hung out together way more than three times, and over two weeks had passed since our first date. I had no idea where we were going or what we were doing, but Frank had said to dress casual.

  I still hadn’t seen his place since I left the bar before it closed during the week, and he had insisted that I wasn’t allowed to come over for the first time at four in the morning on the weekends. No matter how hard I begged, he refused to give in.

  “Are you ready for tonight?” Britney raised her freshly threaded eyebrows at me, and I scrunched up my face in response.

  “What’s tonight, exactly?”

  She stomped her foot and pointed at me. “Don’t play coy with me, young lady. Everyone knows that date number three is the sex date. Not that the two of you can count for shit, but according to your boyfriend, tonight is it.”

  My cheeks burned when Britney called Frank my boyfriend. Our relationship was still new, but I couldn’t hide how I reacted to that word, or how it sparked a whole slew of butterflies to take flight in my stomach.

  “Who’s everyone?” I asked, trying to play it off like I wasn’t nervous as hell.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know this.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I tried to hide the smile that wanted to sneak out, but teasing Britney was too much fun.

  “Fine. Play dumb. Answer me this then. You’re wearing a matching bra and underwear, right? True or false.”

  I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, so I threw a towel at her instead of answering.

  “Answer the question,” she demanded, already knowing my answer.

  “Maybe?” I shrugged.

  Glaring at me, Britney folded her arms. “True. Or. False.”

  “True,” I admitted, thinking about the matching red lace set I was wearing under my ripped jeans and off-the-shoulder black top. My hair hung down my back with long loose curls only at the ends, a style that I knew drove Frank crazy.

  “Totally having sex. Not to mention the sex hair.”

  Our apartment’s intercom buzzed, and I was thankful for the interruption. The very idea of my potential first time with Frank was nerve-racking enough; I didn’t need Britney’s help freaking out about it. Even if I wanted it desperately, had planned for it, and fantasized about it constantly.

  “Who is it?” Britney sang into the intercom.
<
br />   Frank’s voice boomed through the speaker. “Delivery!” He didn’t even have to be in the room, and his charisma still filled the space.

  “Ooh, I hope it’s the sex toys and porn we ordered,” she called out before hitting the button to let him in.

  Mortified, I shook my head. “Really, Britney?”

  She cracked up until Frank walked through the door, then she stopped. “Why are all you Fisher brothers so damn hot? It’s not fair to the rest of the male population, you know.”

  “Take it up with my mother,” he said with a wink. “I’m pretty sure it’s her fault.”

  I died inside as I took him in, realizing that we had unintentionally matched. Again. He was wearing faded blue jeans and a black button-down shirt that fit him snug around his arms and chest.

  “We match,” I said as he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

  “We always match.”

  I stifled a laugh because it was true. Frank and I were always showing up in the same color scheme as if we’d planned it. It was as embarrassing as it was adorable.

  “Okay, go already. Take your matchy-matchy selves out of here and go do what people do on their third dates,” Britney said as she shooed us out of the apartment. “She has no curfew, by the way. Keep her as long as you want!” she shouted as we walked down the stairs.

  “She’s totally trying to get rid of you,” Frank teased as he smacked my ass playfully. “By the way, you look beautiful.” He was always doing that, complimenting me and making me feel special.

  “Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself.”

  When we got outside, I looked around for his motorcycle but couldn’t spot it. “Are we walking somewhere?” I glanced down at my high heels and prayed he’d said no.

  The sound of a car beeping diverted my attention, and I was surprised to see Frank open the passenger door of a sleek gray BMW.

  “You got a car?”

  He gave me a nonchalant shrug. “Figured it was time.”

  I moved to get inside before I stopped. “Wait. Did you get rid of the bike?”

  I was surprised at how sad I was at the idea. I loved riding on the back of Frank’s motorcycle. There was nothing like the feel of the air whipping around you from every direction. It was exhilarating and a little scary, but I always felt safe holding on to him.

  “No way. I love that bike. It’s just not always practical.”

  Thank goodness.

  “Oh. Okay.” I sank into the soft leather, inhaling deeply as he folded his long body into the driver’s seat. “It smells amazing in here.”

  “Love that new-car smell.” Frank grinned and placed his hand on my knee. “Ready?” He pressed a button and the car purred to life, vibrating gently underneath me.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Don’t freak out,” he said, giving me a wary look.

  “What is it?”

  “My parents.”

  “What about them?”

  “I want you to meet them?”

  The fact that he’d phrased it like a question made me smile before I started freaking out. “I’d love to meet them. But where are we going? I’m wearing jeans, Frank!”

  He laughed. “I’m wearing jeans too.”

  “Yeah, but you could make a garbage bag look good.”

  “So could you.” He reached for my hand and kissed my knuckles. “We’re going to that Mexican restaurant around the corner from Sam’s.”

  “The one with the seventy different kinds of tequila?” I said, thinking of their ad.

  “That’s the one. My mom really wants to meet you.”

  “You could have warned me.” I narrowed my eyes at him in mock anger.

  “It honestly came up last minute. My parents aren’t usually out this way, but Mom called right before I was heading out to pick you up. I couldn’t tell her no. Plus, I really want you to meet them.” His expression was so sincere, his tone so excited, that I couldn’t help but be excited too.

  “So date three is now meeting the parents.” I gave him a somewhat disappointed look. “The ultimate cock block.”

  “Ha! Date three is dinner with the parents, then dessert at Frank’s.” He gave me a sweet smile before pulling onto the road.

  “I really get to come over?”

  “That’s what I was planning before my mom called.”

  I clapped my hands like an excited child because I was more than ready to see where my boyfriend lived. Even if said place used to be shared with another woman. I could handle that because I was an adult, and adults did things like live with their girlfriends and break up with them too.

  Then a horrible thought occurred to me.

  “What do your parents know about me? Do they think I broke you and Shelby up?”

  “No, no. They don’t think that at all. No one thinks that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He let out a laugh. “Of course I’m sure. They don’t think that because it’s not true. I talked to them the night I broke up with Shelby. They both gave me advice.”

  “What? They did?” I hadn’t known anything about that. Not that I would, necessarily, but I was still surprised.

  “Yeah. They hated seeing me so torn up and miserable. They told me it was okay to want to end things with Shelby. That the world wouldn’t stop turning because of it, you know?”

  I nodded. It felt like that awful time had happened a thousand years ago instead of about three weeks ago. It was funny how quickly things could change, how drastically your emotions could overcome the feeling of being wronged, and how easily you could let go of the things that no longer served you. I could have held on to my feelings of anger and betrayal toward Frank, but it wouldn’t have done any good. Hurting him would mean hurting myself as well, and that didn’t make sense.

  Glancing at Frank, I asked, “So they’re happy that you’re happy?”

  “You have no idea.” He grinned, and I admired his profile as he drove us to the restaurant.

  We walked through the swinging doors holding hands, and I recognized his parents right away. Their faces practically lit up the room the moment they saw us.

  His mom was naturally beautiful, with long light brown hair, and his dad was ridiculously handsome, a mix of all the boys in one. If there was any question how the three brothers had gotten so good-looking, the proof was standing right in front of me in the form of their parents.

  His mom hugged me hard. “Claudia, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

  “It’s a pleasure,” his dad said before pulling me in for a hug too.

  We all sat and ordered margaritas, and when they arrived, agreed how much better Ryan’s were. Dinner was easy, casual, and the conversation flowed like the all-you-could-eat chips and salsa that kept appearing at our table. Frank’s parents were accepting, kind and generous, treating us to the meal and sending us home with all the leftovers, which would keep Frank fed for a week.

  I thanked them profusely, not only for the meal, but for raising such a great man. I’d thought I was lucky before meeting Frank’s parents, but now my gratitude cup was overflowing.

  “I’ve never seen my son so happy.” His mom hugged me as we said our good-byes. “Thank you.”

  My eyes welled up with tears. “Thank you for being so kind.”

  She gripped my shoulders as she said softly, “We loved Shelby. She was a nice girl but she wasn’t right for Frank, and I always knew that. This is different. You’re different. And I know that too. I hope my son makes you half as happy as you make him.”

  “Jeez.” I launched into her arms once more and hugged her tight. “He does; he really and truly does. I never knew I could be this happy.”

  She pulled back and touched my cheek, her eyes shining. “I’m glad. You both deserve it.”

  I watched as she and her husband walked out of the door, his arm draped around her shoulders. Frank and I followed close behind, our own hands intertwined. My heart was so full, I thought it migh
t burst.

  “They’re really great,” I said once we were in the car.

  “They loved you,” he said, his words pushing away any lingering doubts.

  It was far too easy fitting into this family. I’d never experienced such a thing before, and honestly, had no idea that I could.

  Maybe this was how fate worked. Maybe all the pieces fell together perfectly when you were with the right person.

  I wasn’t sure, but a girl could hope.

  Forever Frank

  Claudia

  We drove toward Marina del Rey, and I shouldn’t have been the least bit surprised when we pulled into one of the only high-rise buildings in the city. He drove us underground and parked in an assigned spot. The number of expensive foreign cars parked around us was a clear sign that this wasn’t affordable housing.

  “This is where you live?” I asked.

  “Wait till you see the view,” he said before opening my door and helping me out. He clicked the remote, and the car beeped as it locked.

  Frank led us toward a small bank of elevators, and one appeared less than ten seconds after he had pushed the button. The doors opened and I stepped inside, noticing how perfectly clean the mirrored walls were. There wasn’t a single fingerprint that I could see, making me wonder idly how often they cleaned them. As the doors closed, Frank pressed the button for the twelfth floor and the elevator rose quickly.

  We stepped into a hallway lined with doors, and I followed Frank as he led the way. He took a sharp right before stopping at number 1235. He unlocked the door and held it open for me, waving me inside. Stunned, I walked into one of the nicest apartments I’d ever seen. The space was huge and open, with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in a lot of light, even at night.

  I made my way straight over to the living room window and noticed an oversized balcony. “Frank, this place is amazing.”

  “I know. I fell in love with it the second I stepped inside.”

  “I can see why. Is it yours?”