Five First Dates : A Brother's Best Friend Romantic Comedy Standalone

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Five First Dates : A Brother's Best Friend Romantic Comedy Standalone Page 4

by Erin McCarthy


  As soon as the waitress left, Dakota said, “Wait. So, are we one hundred percent sure she can’t have sex with the nanny? I mean, how convenient. Hey, I want to bang tonight and you’re five feet away. Yay. It sounds awesome to me.”

  “He’s my little brother’s best friend,” I said. “Not only does that make him off-limits, that makes him like twenty-three years old. Maybe twenty-four, tops, I can’t remember when his birthday is.”

  “Oh, you’re worried he’ll pop off too soon since he’s young and uber horny? Fair enough,” she said.

  I should have known this conversation would get away from me. “No! I mean, I never thought about that. But I doubt it.” I pictured Maddox’s intense stare. “You don’t understand. Even as a kid, his concentration was crazy. He’s a tattoo artist. He obviously has to be focused. No. I think he’s probably the kind of guy who just draws it out on and on while you slowly go crazy with the intensity of it…”

  Damn it. I could feel myself getting wet just thinking like that. I was wet. In a bar. Thinking about Maddox. If I had told my twenty-year-old self this would be the future, I would have laughed hysterically. The waitress put my drink down and I gulped half the iced tea in one sip. I was burning up from the inside out.

  “Let’s start with buying a vibrator,” Felicia said. “Because I think you’re a wee bit undersexed right now.”

  “Do you have a picture of him?” Leah asked. “I’m really curious what this guy looks like given how you’re practically drooling.”

  “I bet I can find his Instagram.” I pulled my phone out and scrolled through my apps. I should have done this before he showed up on my doorstep because at least I would have been mentally prepared. There it was. Primarily pictures of tattoos he’d done on other people. But there was one of him leaning against his motorcycle, arms crossed over his chest, expression brooding.

  I passed the phone to Leah across the table. “Here he is.”

  “Holy fuck,” Leah said as she looked at the screen. “He’s so not your type.”

  “I know, right?”

  She passed the phone around the table. One by one they exclaimed over the hotness of Maddox.

  “If you’re going to shatter stereotypes by having a male nanny, this is the way to do it,” Isla said. “He’s straight out of Breaking Bad.”

  “Can I have sex with him?” Dakota asked. “Since you can’t for reasons I still don’t understand.”

  “No!” I knew she was joking but it still irritated me.

  “Don’t tease her. She’s in crisis,” Felicia said. “Okay, so I’m following this better now. The solution is to date other men so you don’t shag your nanny?”

  “No. The solution is to date so I can have an orgasm and someone to spend Friday nights with. But I don’t trust myself to pick guys out on an app or even in person. So here’s what I’m proposing. Each of you picks a guy for me.”

  “This is the best thing I’ve ever heard,” Dakota said. “You’re telling me I can pick anyone?”

  “Anyone that would be a good fit for me.” I felt the first flutter of nerves over my seemingly brilliant idea. She looked downright gleeful.

  “Anyone that I think would be a good fit for you, correct? Not your idea of a good fit. Because you’ve already dated every white suit-wearing prick in all five boroughs.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, then realized I had exactly zero leg to stand on. She was right. I was a prick magnet. The whole point of this exercise was to break away from the patterns that had resulted in nothing but heartbreak. If I always was drawn to the exact same type of guy, wasn’t the outcome going to be the same?

  “Yes. You can choose whoever you think would be a good fit for me. Not a fit for you. A fit for me.”

  “This is gold,” Dakota said. “I have at least five guys at work that I’m mentally considering right now.”

  Dakota danced in music videos and for the pro football dance team. I was intrigued by who she might come up with. Me with a rapper? It boggled the mind and yet was kind of exciting. The whole point was new possibilities.

  “Can we use an app?” Felicia said. “You know I’ve become a recluse since Sam and I split. I know no one in person to set you up with and I definitely want in on this.”

  Felicia had been dating older, wealthy men, being whisked away on vacations until she’d had a horrendous breakup. Now she hadn’t dated in close to a year, and seemed to have lost her confidence entirely. She spent most of her time in her apartment, working. Maybe this wouldn’t just help me. Maybe Felicia would join an app herself and get back out there. “Yes. Download an app if you don’t have it already and I will give you my login. You can pretend to be me.”

  “That is a power that must be wielded responsibly,” Isla said. “But I swear, you can trust me. I don’t know about these other bitches, but I promise I won’t muck around in your account.”

  “I trust all of you.” I did. Implicitly. “That’s why I’m doing this.”

  “I’m going to put feelers out with Grant’s cousin,” Leah said. “He’s the CEO of a hotel chain.”

  “Sold,” I said, grinning. This was going to be fun.

  If I was going out on hot dates with four totally different curated men, obviously, I was going to forget all about Maddox and how he looked naked.

  “You’re getting your dream, aren’t you?” Isla asked, expression amused. “It’s your own real life rom-com.”

  “It is!” I said, eyes widening. I hadn’t thought about that, but she was so right. “This is going to be epic.”

  “It’s going to be something,” she agreed.

  Out of our squad Isla and I were the most different but I would argue the closest. She got me fully and I got her too. I knew things about her past the other girls didn’t. And she knew my love of the romantic comedy bordered on extreme.

  I raised my iced tea. “To four first dates.”

  They all raised their glasses.

  “To having sex,” Dakota said.

  “To the rom-com,” Leah chimed in.

  “To having man candy living in your apartment,” Felicia said.

  I looked at Isla expectantly when she didn’t offer her own toast. “Well? You have to say something too.”

  Isla tapped her glass onto mine. “To living close to the train station and reasonably priced poke bowls.”

  “Ugh! You’re the worst,” I told her.

  She laughed. “Just keeping it real.”

  “I don’t want real,” I protested. “I want love.”

  Isla sipped her beer. “Yeah. And that’s the problem.”

  “I refuse to let you ruin this,” I told her. “I’m going to have fun and you can’t stop me.”

  She held up her hands. “I’m not standing in your way.” She lifted her glass again. “To Savannah’s adventures in dating. How’s that?”

  “Better.” I sipped my iced tea and felt confident in a matter of a few weeks I could be having sex again.

  Ripped out of sleep, I immediately realized what had woken me up. A baby crying.

  Savannah’s baby crying.

  Lying on her couch under a blanket I stayed there for a minute, eyes still closed, gauging the level and volume of his crying to see how realistic it might be that he’d settle down quickly and I could fall back asleep.

  It didn’t sound promising.

  It was way beyond whimpering or fussiness. It was hard, sharp crying that was growing in sound and intensity. It was swelling to full-on wailing. Nope. That kid was not going back down any time soon.

  Prying my eyes open, I let them adjust to the dark and threw the blanket off of me. I was sleeping in sweatpants without a shirt. Fumbling on the end table, I found my phone. 2:24 a.m. Savannah had been true to her word. She hadn’t even been gone meeting up with her friends for a full two hours. Sullivan had been fine for me. We’d played and then he sat tucked in the crook of my arm while we watched the Eagles kick ass on Thursday night football.

  He h
adn’t even made a peep about needing to eat. Savannah had gotten home at nine, nursed him, then he’d been out like a light. So had she. She’d stayed up to talk to me for about fifteen minutes, then had yawned so many times I’d let her off the hook and sent her to bed.

  Now little man was screaming bloody murder.

  I went down the hallway and knocked on the door.

  Savannah yanked it open a second later. The nightlight in her bedroom cast a glow onto her and the baby. “I’m so sorry, Maddox,” she said, juggling Sully up and down. “I know tomorrow is your first day at the shop. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” I told her, sincerely. I wasn’t someone who needed a ton of sleep. “I just wanted to see if I can do anything to help.”

  “I don’t know what to do. He’s been changed, fed, he doesn’t have a fever.”

  She looked so flustered, I reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. Sometimes babies just cry.”

  “It’s the worst sound in the world,” she said, blowing her hair out of her eyes. “It hurts my heart that he’s suffering.”

  I eyed Sully. His face was beet red from his exertions and he had fat, wet tears clinging to his eyelashes and rolling down his cheeks. His head was lolling back and he had fists tightly gripping Savannah’s loose T-shirt. A bubble formed in his mouth. The kid was either pissed or in pain. That was clear.

  “Does he sound angry to you or in pain?”

  “I don’t know!” She bit her lip.

  “Yes, you do. You know your baby. Just take a deep breath and relax.” I touched Sully’s arm. “What are you trying to tell Mommy, little man?”

  Savannah smoothed his wispy hair back and stared at her son. “Why would he be angry? He was sleeping. It has to be pain, then. Maybe it’s gas. I shouldn’t have eaten broccoli. They say it’s hard to digest.”

  Her tone had changed from panic to guilt. “Here.” I reached out for him. “Let me burp him. Maybe that will knock something loose.”

  Savannah was flustered enough that she handed Sully to me without protesting. “Do you know how to burp a baby?” she asked.

  I scoffed. “Are you kidding? I’m the king of burping babies.” I lifted a hand and showed her. “Big palms, loads of experience.”

  Putting Sully over my shoulder I massaged his back, then patted firmly but gently. The first few taps yielded no results but then he let one rip. I felt warm spit-up roll down my bare skin. Damn. I ignored it and continued to massage his back as the shrill crying settled down into wet hiccups and shuddering.

  “I think that did it,” Savannah said, sounding relieved. “Thanks, Maddox. Here, let me settle him down so you can go back to sleep.”

  “I think he’s falling asleep already,” I said, as Sully started to sniffle. “He wore himself out. Let’s sit for a minute until we’re sure he’s out, then I’ll transfer him to his crib. I know how dicey the transfer is.”

  Savannah gave a soft laugh. “It’s like dismantling a bomb.”

  I sat down on her bed and leaned against the headboard, making sure Sullivan was comfortable and had plenty of space and air. I lifted my legs onto the mattress and raised my knees. Savannah sat down next to me. She gave a sigh as she leaned back, pulling the blanket over her feet.

  “You have fun with your friends?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  She nodded. “Thanks again for watching the baby.” She reached out and ran her finger lightly over Sully’s leg, covered in a soft pajama bottom.

  Watching her, seeing her expression of love, was fucking with my resolve to let her dictate the boundaries of our relationship. I didn’t think she had any idea how beautiful she was, inside and out.

  “That’s what I’m here for,” I said. Sullivan’s weight grew heavier as he relaxed. It felt like a huge achievement to calm him down, and I had to admit, I was feeling proud of that fact. “So are your girlfriends all single?” I asked, just trying to make conversation.

  “Three out of four are single,” she said. “Why, do you want an introduction?”

  “No, of course not. I was just curious. Wondering what dating in New York is like.”

  “Leah has a new relationship and she’s insanely happy. Isla doesn’t date. Felicia is something of a recluse in recent months. And Dakota is a wild child. It’s hard to tie her down.” Savannah turned slightly toward me. “Why isn’t my brother dating anyone? Or is he? He won’t tell me anything.”

  I wasn’t going to give up Steve’s secrets but I could give her an abridged version of the truth. “Steve dates lots of girls. Just not one in particular.”

  She made a sound, like she didn’t like the idea her brother was potentially a manwhore, which he was. I had no opinion on what my buddy did or with who. He took home a steady stream of women who were perfectly happy to have sex with him and nothing more, so I figured it was all good. Steve wasn’t ready or interested in a relationship and was just having fun.

  “And you?” she asked.

  “That’s not my style. I’m not a casual sex kind of guy. I like to settle in and get to know a woman, and when we have sex, I want it to be about her, about us, not some routine of moves I use on everyone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you have a hookup, you go in doing what you normally do, right? It’s a standard set of steps. When you know someone, when you’ve been burning for them, when you look at them and want them so much your cock is aching, you do it for them. Every kiss, every touch, every lick, is based on what you know about them. What they like. What they crave. How do you do that with a stranger? You don’t. It’s based on what you want.”

  Her eyes were wide. “Oh. I see what you mean,” she whispered. “I don’t like casual sex either. But I’m not good at reading men. I always think they want a relationship when they don’t.”

  “That’s because you’re a nice person.”

  “It’s because I’m an idiot who thinks romantic comedies should be real life.”

  Good information to have. “What is your favorite romantic comedy movie?”

  “I can’t pick just one. Ten Things I Hate About You is up there. The Proposal. Leap Year. Always Be My Maybe. There are just too many.”

  I hadn’t seen any of those. We were more of a horror movie kind of family. “What is it that makes those special to you?”

  “I think it’s the idea that we basically overcomplicate love and relationships. It’s there, all around us. If we want it. That’s the message.” Savannah touched her son’s foot again. “Not that it’s worked for me. Which is why I told my friends tonight they each have the authority to set me up on a first date.”

  Yeah, fuck that. But I kept my expression neutral. “With whoever they want?”

  “Yes. Because they know me and should be able to gauge who I can click with. Do you mind watching Sullivan? It’s only four dates, but you know, the goal is one of those will be second-date-worthy.”

  Watch her baby while she went out and tried to find Mr. Right? That sounded like fucking hell. But I didn’t have a choice. If I said no, she’d think I was a total dick. So I would bide my time and assume her dates were going to suck.

  All while I showed her that I could be her happy ending.

  “I don’t mind. I just have one condition.”

  Her gaze lifted to meet mine. “What?”

  “I get to pick your fifth first date.”

  She looked confused. “You want to set me up with someone too?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I’ve known you longer than all your New York friends.”

  “Yeah, but, it’s not like you know what I like.”

  It wasn’t a matter of what she wanted. It was what she needed.

  “You can tell me what you like in a guy. Come on, what’s the risk? It’s just a first date.”

  With me.

  In the dim room, she gave a soft laugh, her expression amused. “Sure, why not? The whole point is statistics, right?”

/>   “I thought the whole point was finding forever,” I told her, my hand cupping Sully’s body against my chest.

  Savannah’s mouth fell open softly and almost imperceptibly she glanced at my mouth, like she wanted to kiss me. Like the intimacy of a dark bedroom, a warm bed, and a sleeping baby had made her see me in a different light.

  Or maybe I was reading more into it than I should.

  I let my gaze drop to her lips.

  She reared back, like she’d been shocked. She twisted the ends of her red hair and cleared her throat. “Why don’t you try to put the baby back in his crib?” she said. “You need to get some sleep.”

  I did what she suggested without a word. Sullivan was worn out and when I eased him into his crib he didn’t react at all. I drew the blanket over his legs and stood back up. Savannah hadn’t moved from the bed. She’d pulled the comforter up over her and was clutching it to her chest, as if to protect her.

  I rubbed the back of my head and padded toward the door. “Goodnight, Savannah.”

  “Goodnight, Maddox.”

  I closed the door behind me and stood there for a minute, listening. For what, I had no idea. After a minute, I went back to the couch, where I lay awake for an hour, cock hard, wishing I was in her bed, inside her.

  I punched the pillow. “Not helpful, asshole,” I murmured out loud.

  Chapter 4

  “Are you even listening?” Xander asked me, his nose wrinkling as he stared at me via Skype.

  I wasn’t. “Of course, I’m listening. Best Holiday Outfits for under fifty dollars. I’m on it.” I wasn’t. Not really. It wasn’t a hard assignment. I could do it in two hours. Normally, I jumped on something easy like that as a way to round out the afternoon and feel accomplished.

  But I sat at my desk in my living room, gaze going back to the couch where Maddox had carefully folded his blanket and set his pillow on top of it. There had been something very comforting having him there in the middle of the night, easing my anxiety about Sully’s crying jag.

 

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