More Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories (The Flirts! Short Stories Collections)

by Scott, Lisa

  With a sigh, she went to the bathroom and splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth with her finger. She really should keep her own toothbrush here, but that would seem too much like something a girlfriend would do. Boundaries were important in this relationship—mostly for her sake. She could not—would not—fall for Eric. Fortunately, she had years of practice keeping her feelings to herself.

  She tiptoed into Eric’s room, which was unnecessary. He’d probably be in bed snoring for a few more hours; she could tap-dance into his room and he wouldn’t move. But surprisingly, when she pushed his door open, he sat up, smiling.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. She fought the urge to make some smart-ass comment about him drinking more in a night than she had in her life. But Emily knew he hated hearing her lectures on drinking, so she’d stopped giving them. To be fair, he’d sat through quite a few without protesting because he knew about her father. So he’d nod and pretend to listen while she ranted about responsibility and disappointment and pain.

  But eventually she realized it wasn’t Eric’s fault they had different views on partying, and that he shouldn’t be the object of her misguided anger. Not that her stance made any difference; Eric more than made up for her sobriety. Their friendship should have ended after his first binge, but you don’t leave a guy who’s been your best friend since kindergarten just because you think he drinks too much. If anything, he needed her even more because of it. And she needed him. He’d consoled her when her father died; she was there for him when his mother passed away a year later. And he found her lost dog, Sam, when she was seven, and she’d never forget that.

  “Hey,” he croaked, stretching in bed.

  “I didn’t expect you to be up so early,” she said a bit nervously. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t remember the night before. Damn, she was praying he wouldn’t remember the night before.

  He rubbed his head. “I know. But I can’t stop thinking about last night.”

  She couldn’t swallow. “Really?” she managed to say.

  “I feel like a total ass.”

  The blood drained from her face. “Why?”

  “Because I kissed someone last night and can’t remember who.”

  Thank god. She blew out a breath and ran her fingers over her lips. “Really? That’s…that’s too bad.”

  He swung his feet out of bed and onto the floor, but sat there, not quite ready to get up. “I know, right? Did you see who I was with?”

  She nibbled on her lip. “No. No, I didn’t see you with anyone.”

  “Damn. I was counting on you.”

  “Sorry.” She looked down at her feet. “So, was it…was it good?”

  He laughed. “Incredible. All night, I dreamed about the way her lips felt against mine. How her silky hair slid through my fingers. And the arch of her neck. Damn—it was just a kiss. We were in a bar, so nothing more than that happened, but it was…” He scrunched his eyebrows together, thinking. “It was incredible.”

  “Incredible?” Emily’s voice sounded squeaky.

  “Yeah. Because of how I felt with her. Happy. I don’t know, like whole or something.”

  Emily faked a laugh. “That’s probably just your pals Jimmy Beam and Johnny Walker talking.”

  “No.”

  “You were probably just trying to console yourself that the cute brunette picked your brother over you.”

  Eric’s smile faded and he shook his head. “No, this girl was different. All the other ones always feel, I don’t know, interchangeable? Same girl, same lines, different night. No regrets when they leave. This one felt like one to keep.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself like she was cold. “All that from a kiss?”

  He shrugged. “Like I said, crazy. I wonder why I didn’t bring her home?”

  Emily cleared her throat and shrugged. “She must’ve run off like Cinderella. Too bad you’ll never know who she was.”

  He stood up and tottered for a moment. “I’m not giving up that easy. I’m going to find her. I’ll keep going back to that bar until I do.”

  Emily’s heart quickened. “Do you even know what she looks like?”

  He frowned. “No. But I’ll ask around and see if anyone saw me with her.”

  “What if no one did?” God, she hoped no one did.

  He grinned. “Maybe I’ll just have to kiss every girl who comes along until I find those lips again; kind of like Cinderella and her shoe, but more fun. Hopefully, it’ll have the same ending.”

  Like that wouldn’t be pure torture to watch. She could just confess and save him the trouble—and save herself the heartbreak watching him make out with all of Boston. But how could she explain why she’d let him kiss her? Fine. Why she’d kissed him back, too. She hadn’t been drunk. She should’ve pulled away. But it felt so good with his hand wrapped around the back of her neck, and his lips on hers like they’d been made just for Emily.

  Figures. They kiss and he couldn’t even remember it was her. That said it all, didn’t it?

  The night before, she’d never imagined their kiss would mean anything to him. Eric had locked lips with his share of women. She’d probably ruin their friendship if she owned up to it. She toyed with the air freshener hanging from his door. Maybe he’d give up on the idea of finding his mystery girl once he sobered up a bit. “Well, good luck finding her.”

  He grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “Thanks. Too bad I was so drunk.”

  She pressed her lips shut.

  “What?”

  “I’m not saying a word.”

  He sighed and kicked off the blanket he’d bought on spring break in Mexico the year before. Yep, he’d graduated from college a few years back, but he still went on spring break. “Maybe it’s time to grow up, settle down a bit.”

  She froze, and then laughed. “You’re joking right?”

  He didn’t crack a smile; he was serious. “Can’t be a party boy forever.”

  “Uh, yes you could.” He could spend the rest of his life partying. When his mother had died four years ago, she’d surprised everyone by having amassed a fortune through careful investing. Her five kids were each left with millions. Eric would never have to work a day in his life.

  He walked over and squeezed her cheek. “Not if it means missing the woman of my dreams.” He walked into the kitchen and got out the ingredients to make his hangover cocktail—a prairie oyster.

  “That’s disgusting.”

  He grinned. “That’s what you say every time.” He cracked an egg in a glass, with a shot of hot sauce and Worcestershire sauce and a dash of salt and pepper. “But it works.”

  She looked away so she wouldn’t gag.

  He swirled his glass. “I think the best chance of finding her is going out tonight.”

  She sat down at the kitchen island. “You think she’d go to the same bar again?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe she’s looking for me.” He tossed back the slimy concoction and winced. “Will you come with me? Tell me if you recognize anyone?”

  “Sure. But I don’t think you’re going to find her.”

  “That’s what I love about you—your overwhelming positivity.” He winked at her.

  “Someone’s gotta keep you anchored to reality.”

  “And someone’s gotta help me find my dream girl. I’ll make you my best man in the wedding.”

  “Fine. But I’m not hiring strippers for the bachelor party so you might want to rethink that.” She let herself out the door before he threw something at her.

  ***

  After Emily left, Eric went to the gym, because sweating off a hangover usually helped some. He straddled a bench and grabbed the hand weights, but he couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. He’d never even felt like this after spending a whole night with someone.

  Ridiculous. How could one kiss throw him off like this? He could have any woman he wanted. Most women found him attractive even before they learned about his mon
ey. Being six foot four and built had its advantages. But they always found out about the money. And that always made women want him more. Setting down the weights, he frowned. He’d never really be able to know if someone loved him for himself, and not the money. Most guys wouldn’t mind what the motivation was, just so long as they were getting plenty of action.

  But Eric did care. His mother’s inheritance had brought a boatload of consequences he’d never counted on. It didn’t matter if he ever worked a day in his life. And since he had no idea what he wanted to do, he did nothing. Nothing but party. It had been a dream for a few years. But for some reason, that kiss last night changed everything. It was the first time in a long time he’d woken up with a purpose—to find the girl.

  After his workout, he napped for a few hours, took his dog to the park, did some shopping, and got ready to meet Emily for dinner and go over their game plan.

  He slipped on the t-shirt he’d had made just for the occasion, and threw on a jacket so he could surprise Emily with it later. She’d pretend to be outraged by what was written on it, but she’d really think it was hilarious.

  If Emily hadn’t been acting like she was his mother since age five, she’d be perfect for him. They laughed at the same jokes. She was the only woman he knew who admitted she liked the Three Stooges and Funyons. They both moved to Back Bay after college. Plus, she was beautiful. But the one time he kissed her after they went to junior prom with a group of classmates, she told him it would never happen between them—they were just friends. And that would have to be enough. Hopefully the girl from the night before was just like Emily—minus the non-stop nagging gene.

  Eric got to the restaurant first, and ordered Emily’s standard drink: a diet coke with a lime and a lemon. “You know who to live!” he always liked to tease her.

  “I know how to live healthy,” she’d always say. He knew where she was coming from, and he couldn’t fault her for being cautious. Her dad has been a first class ass who made her life hell. Back in Taunton when they were kids, whenever Emily was real upset, she’d run deep into the woods behind his house. Of course, he’d always chase her.

  “Let’s run away and live back here by this creek,” she’d say, grabbing his arms. “You’re a boy scout, you could start the fires and I could cook. We’ve got water back here and everything. We could do it.”

  Eric had always been able to smooth her hair back and wipe away her tears and remind her that bears would probably eat them their first night there.

  But she’d always argue back. “We could build a tree house and the bears won’t get us.”

  And then he’d say, “Some day, Emily. Some day. But today we have to go back home.” She’d usually be mad at him for a day, but then she’d get over it.

  He tipped back a beer, washing away the memory, while he waited for her to get to the restaurant. He spotted her at the door and waved. Then he leered at several guys watching her walk over to the table. He narrowed his eyes. He should jump up and kiss her so they’d stop looking. But that would be stupid. He couldn’t try that again and risk losing her. Even through all the totally wrong girls he’d dated, Emily had been there. Sometimes she faded into the background a bit if things seemed like they were getting serious. But that didn’t happen often for Eric. Did he do the same for Emily? He spun the beer bottle around, thinking. Emily had never been too serious with anyone either. Huh, he thought to himself. Just one more thing they had in common.

  Emily sat down, the sweet scent of her body lotion settling around him. He took a deep breath and smiled.

  “Thanks for the drink.” She took a long sip.

  Eric rubbed his hands together. “You ready to spend your Saturday night helping me find the love of my life?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re really serious about that?”

  He flashed open his jacket at her. “Does it look like I’m serious?”

  She paused, reading the front of his shirt. “’Kiss me, I’m looking for Mrs. Right?’”

  He shrugged. “Genius, I know.”

  She wrinkled her cute little nose. “I think you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.”

  “That’s the same thing you said when we camped out for Aerosmith tickets, but you stayed with me and we got front row seats, didn’t we?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, it’s just that….”

  “What? Why not try?”

  “What if you don’t find her?”

  “What if I do?”

  She looked down, her mouth opening and closing, but saying nothing.

  She’s afraid you’re going to find her! She’s afraid this one is serious! He reached across the table for her hand. “Emily, no matter what happens or who comes into my life, you’ll still be my best friend. You’ll still be my best man. I’ll get one of my brothers to hire the strippers.”

  She didn’t even laugh. Biting her lip, she shook her head. “It’s not that. Never mind. Let’s see if we can find her tonight.”

  Eric held up his hand in a high-five move, then fluttered his fingers. “Come on, fancy-five, fancy-five.”

  “We haven’t done that since sixth grade.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “It’s time to bring it back.”

  She finally smiled and imitated his move, fluttering her fingertips against his.

  “New nail polish. Aren’t you more of a pink girl than dark blue?”

  She set her chin in her hand. “I needed something different.”

  “And so do I. Hopefully, I’ll find her tonight.”

  ***

  Emily was distracted during dinner, wondering how long Eric would keep up this search. She’d thought he was joking, but he’d gone and had a t-shirt made? Hopefully, he’d just find someone new to fall in love with tonight and end all this ridiculousness over a kiss.

  A damn good kiss.

  They made it all the way from the restaurant to the bar before she realized she hadn’t given Eric money toward dinner. “You shit, how much do I owe for my half?”

  He rolled his eyes. “And here I thought you were finally being reasonable, letting your rich friend pick up the tab.”

  She pulled a twenty from her wallet and held it out to him. “You’re my friend and that’s exactly why I won’t let you pay. I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

  Eric snatched the money from her. “Only because I know you won’t shut up about it. Someday, you’re going to let me pay. You’re the only person I actually want to pick up the tab for, but no, my second mom has rules and standards and…”

  She gave him a look. “Do not call me your second mom.”

  “Fine. My second sister.”

  “That works. Kyla’s cool.”

  “Not anymore, she’s a fool in love. Crazy, crazy, love. She moved in with her new boyfriend, Stone, after like, two months.”

  “And you’re ready to marry someone you kissed once in the back of the bar.”

  “How do you know it was the back of the bar?”

  She could feel herself flushing. “I was just guessing. That would be the most likely place for a passionate kiss.”

  “Well, you’re right. It was in the back of the bar.” He held open the bar door for her. “Now let’s go find her.”

  ***

  Eric sat at the bar facing the door so everyone could see his shirt as they walked in. He got smirks from the guys and giggles from the girls, most of who came over to give him a smooch, all while Emily considered taking up drinking after all. Eric pulled a few of the girls back toward him for a longer kiss, and even twirled and his hand through the long hair of two blondes.

  “Any luck?” Emily asked, flipping her own long, chestnut hair over her shoulder.

  “No,” Eric said with a sigh. “But I am remembering more. She definitely had long, straight hair, and it was light. Like yours, with the highlights.”

  “That describes half the twenty-something female population in town. Unless she was older…”

  He shook his head
. “No, she was definitely my age.”

  Another girl pushed past Emily and took Eric by the shoulders. “I doubt I’m Mrs. Right, but I am ten kinds of wrong. And you know what they say about ten kinds of wrong.” She pointed her chest at him.

  “It doesn’t make five rights?” Emily offered.

  “What?” The woman gave Emily a dirty look, then she started making out with Eric, who was trying his hardest not to laugh.

  “Okay, I think you can handle this on your own,” Emily told him, slinging her purse over her shoulder, ready to leave.

  Eric pulled away from the brunette. “No, don’t go! This isn’t her.”

  The woman ran a finger up his jaw line. “I could be her. You’re one of the Carter brothers, right?”

  “A girl after your money,” Emily said. “How novel.”

  “No, it’s not her,” Eric said.

  The brunette tipped her nose in the air. “You’ll never know what you’re missing.”

  “I’ve got a good idea what I’m missing. I’ve seen it all,” Eric said. “And you’re not the one!”

  The girl frowned and stomped away.

  Emily crossed her arms and glared at him. “Really? You sure it’s not her? You’re probably too drunk to know.”

  His eyebrows went up, more hurt than surprised. “Damn, what’s with you tonight? I’ve only had two beers so far.”

  “Bull. Shit.” Emily started tapping her foot.

  “It’s true. I’m not going let her slip through my fingers again. I could lose the girl of my dreams because I was too drunk to know who she was. I think it’s time to slow down with the partying. There’s gotta be more to life than that.”

  Emily finally let go of the breath she’d been holding. “Really?”

  “You think I can’t?”

  “No, no. I do. I just didn’t think you’d ever want to slow down.”