The Left Side of Perfect

  “You bet me anything?” I challenge her.

  “Well . . . not anything. Name your price.”

  “All right.” I take a giant bite out of my burrito and chew, thinking about what I could possibly bet her. And then it hits me, a smile spreading across my face. “Okay, if I’m right, you have to get a tattoo with me.”

  Her consistent chewing ceases and her eyes widen. Blinking a few times, she swallows, and says, “A tattoo?”

  “Yeah, a tattoo. What, are you scared?”

  “No,” she scoffs. “But, why the hell do I have to get a tattoo about how to say the time? That’s a huge commitment, Brooks.”

  I shrug, my demeanor casual. “Well, if you think you’re wrong, then don’t make the bet.”

  “I’m not wrong.” She points her fork at me. “I know I’m right.”

  “Then shake on it.”

  “Hold on a second there, chappy.”

  “Chappy?” My brow lifts in question.

  Ignoring me, she says, “What do I get when I’m right?”

  “Up to you. I chose a tattoo.”

  “Oh, I like this. I can choose anything?”

  I slide my jaw back and forth, speaking between my teeth. “Within reason.”

  “Hmm . . .” With an evil glint in her eye, she stares at the ceiling giving her answer some thought.

  “It’s not rocket science, Ryan.”

  “I’m aware, Colby, but it’s not very often I get to have the upper hand over you, so I need to make this good.”

  “Christ.” Instead of waiting for her to answer, I focus on my burrito. So freaking good. There is this place outside of Nellis that looks like a shanty, but it should be on Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives because it’s so good. I took Sage there the a few weeks ago and she was skeptical, but I convinced her it would be the best burrito she’d ever eat. She admitted I was right, which was satisfying, so was the fooling around we did after.

  “I got it,” Ryan finally says, slapping her hand on the table.

  “What is it?”

  Sitting up tall, she tilts her chin up in pride and says, “If you are right, I get a tattoo. But if I win, which I know I will, I get to ask you any question I want about your relationship with Sage and you have to answer truthfully.” She’s been on my ass wanting to know everything, and I know it’s because she’s a girl who loves love. We’ve talked about it before, how she wants a solid, loving relationship, so I’m not offended by the prodding, because I can see why she’s desperate to know. I hold back a lot, I always have, but she wants in. She wants to know all about her friend, and she’s choosing this moment to cash in. Well played. Too bad she’s going to lose.

  I let out a long breath. “What is your obsession with knowing the details of my relationship with Sage?” I ask, just to confirm.

  “You’ve made me obsessed by not sharing anything with me. How long have you guys been dating now?”

  “Three months,” I answer, knowing exactly how long it’s been and how great it’s been having Sage at my side. She’s funny, and sweet, and gets my job and me. When I talk to her about my day, she understands . . . for the most part.

  “Three months and I know nothing. That is unacceptable as your friend. I need details, Colby.”

  “Fine, whatever. If you win, I tell you everything.”

  Bouncing in her chair, she claps her hands together in excitement. “Oh, I have so many questions to ask you. I can’t wait to invade your privacy.” The humor in her eyes makes me smile. I love the teasing side of Ryan.

  “You have to win first in order for that to happen.”

  “Oh, I’m winning.” She winks at me, as if she knows something I don’t and for a minute, I’m nervous I might be wrong, that her asinine reasoning might actually be true. But, no. Noon means twelve o’clock.

  Taking my phone from my pocket, I say, “Okay, I’m going to look it up.” When I unlock my phone, I notice a few missed texts from Sage. “Hold that thought for a second.”

  I scroll through the texts.

  Sage: Have fun eating the best burrito ever with Ryan. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you for going there without me. I’m addicted.

  Sage: A kid came into the office today with the thickest glasses I’ve ever seen, the poor guy, and I wish there was more we could do for him.

  Sage: I wish you didn’t have to work tonight. I’m really wishing I could stay the night.

  Sage: Tomorrow night, can we keep that night for us? Do something at your place . . .

  Sage: And when I say do something at your place, I mean, you know . . . fun things.

  I inwardly groan and shift in my seat. Fun things means she wants to get handsy, and I want nothing more than for her to lay her hands all over my body.

  “Why are you licking your lips like that? It’s weird,” Ryan says, a disgusted look on her face.

  Ignoring Ryan, I send a quick text back.

  Colby: Tomorrow night, you and me. Can’t wait.

  Now to prove Ryan wrong. It’s about time that smirk is wiped off her face. Noon as a timeframe—ridiculous. I open up my browser on my phone and type noon into the search engine.

  Right away, noon is defined as twelve o’clock, and I smile to myself.

  “Are you still sexting?” She points to the grin on my face. “It’s weird to me that you’re getting all excited in front of me. Could you save it for later?”

  “I’m not sexting. I’m trying to figure out what kind of tattoo I want you to get. Maybe one of my face, right on the middle of your chest.”

  “What?” She snags my phone from my hand and looks over the right answer. “No, noon is a timeframe.” She’s shaking her hand, searching for anything to prove me wrong.

  “Face it, Ryan, I won.”

  “No, what kind of life have I been living? Noon is a timeframe. Like morning and night.”

  “Noon is twelve hundred hours. You’re wrong, I’m right, and now I get to decide your tattoo.”

  With a grumpy look on her face, she slides my phone across the table and crosses her arms over her chest, indignant at losing. And then it hits her. Her head snaps up, mouth wide in shock. “Wait a hot second. I never agreed to you choosing the tattoo. I only said I would get one.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nods. “One hundred percent positive. There is no way in hell I would ever let you choose my tattoo. Knowing you, it would be some really awful tattoo I’d have to cover up with an intense amount of makeup on my wedding day.”

  “That’s not true. I’m considerate.”

  “Yeah, right.” She shakes her head. “Not going to happen.”

  “What if . . .” I pause and gnaw on the side of my mouth. I have an idea for her. It’s one of the reasons I suggested getting a tattoo, because I think she needs this as a reminder. But I want to surprise her, so I offer a way to get her to trust me. “What if I let you ask me questions about Sage, if you in return let me pick out your tattoo?”

  “I’m not that desperate.” She leans back in her chair and crosses one leg over the other.

  “Okay.” I pick up my phone and smile to myself, pretending to text Sage.

  “Whatcha doing over there?” She leans her head to the side, trying to take a look at my phone screen.

  “Talking to Sage about tomorrow night.”

  “Is that right?” She scoots over a little bit more, and when I shield my phone away, she groans with irritation. “Ugh, why do you torture me?”

  “Just trust me.”

  “Trust you? Do you really think I’m going to let you choose my one and only tattoo?”

  I nod. “I really do.”

  She mulls that over, working the idea back and forth in her brain. I can see that she’s leaning toward yes, only because she is a romantic at heart and loves to talk about relationships and offer advice. I know she did a lot with Rory and now she’s turning it on me.

  Letting out a long exhale, she says, “You’re not going to be mean and do so
mething stupid, right?”

  “Never.”

  She runs her teeth over her bottom lip and tilts her head back, giving in. “Fine. You can choose my tattoo.”

  “Smart choice, Ryan. Smart choice.”

  * * *

  “You’ve avoided me enough. Get on with it; it’s time to answer my questions.”

  Ryan is curled up on my couch, one arm balanced over the back, the other in her lap. I have the TV on low, not really watching anything important, just filling the silence when we’re not talking.

  “Okay, hit me with them.”

  Excitedly, she sits up and rubs her hands together, her smile contagious. Oh shit, I should have negotiated a limit of questions by the way she’s looking at me, devil horns peeking out the top of her blonde head.

  “Let’s see . . . Have you had sex yet?”

  “I knew that would be your first question.”

  “Then you should already have an answer ready for me. And you have to be truthful, none of this tiptoeing around the truth. I want the down and dirty version, the dirtier the better.”

  “You do realize how weird it sounds that you want to know so bad.”

  She waves her hand at me. “It’s normal. Now go on, tell me.”

  Hand on my forehead, I rub it back and forth and answer, “Not yet. We’ve done pretty much everything but the actual deed.”

  “Have you seen her boobs?”

  I nod, hating her so much right now. “Plenty of times.”

  “Do you like them?”

  “Jesus Christ.” This was a bad idea. “Yes, I like her boobs.”

  “Is she a good kisser? She seems like she would be a good kisser, those pouty lips are perfect for kissing.”

  I smile inwardly. “She’s a very good kisser.”

  “Awww, look at you. You’re blushing.” Ryan tilts her head to the side. “You really like her, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I really do.”

  “Like . . . what kind of like level are we at? From one to ten, ten being I love her and will kill myself if she leaves me, to one being I tolerate her face. Where are you on the scale?”

  “I tolerate her face?” I chuckle. “There is something seriously wrong with you.”

  She nudges me with my foot. “Just answer the question.”

  “Uh, I mean, I don’t know . . . an eight?”

  “An eight?” Her eyes bug out and she repositions herself so she’s sitting on her knees. “That’s serious, Colby.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m serious about her.”

  “Really? Like she could be the one serious?”

  Without skipping a beat, I nod my head. “Yeah.”

  Shocked, Ryan sits back on the couch, mouth parted, completely stunned. “Wow, it happened that fast for you? Three months, and you know like that?”

  A flash of pain crosses her eyes, and a piece of my soul breaks for her. It’s why I don’t really want to talk about Sage to Ryan, because I know how sensitive she is about her own love life, or lack thereof. She deserves someone amazing, someone who’s going to be her rock, her person, and for some fucking reason, she can’t seem to find him.

  Which is mind-boggling to me.

  She’s a fucking catch. Beautiful, smart, funny, sexy as shit, and she’s a really good time. Hell, she pushes me out of my comfort zone most of the time, which is a rare accomplishment.

  Feeling guilty, I say, “Maybe we should talk about something else.”

  She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. I’m just a little shocked, that’s all. I didn’t know things were going that great for you two. I’m super happy for you.” Cracking a smile, humor written all over her face, she holds up her fingers an inch apart and says, “Maybe a little jealous.”

  See? Funny. And honest.

  “It’s okay to be jealous. We’re the type of couple people are usually jealous over.”

  “Oh boy.” Ryan rolls her eyes. “Settle down there, pony boy.”

  “Pony boy?”

  She shrugs. “Seemed right at the moment. So you’re at about an eight which means, do you think you could see yourself proposing to her?”

  Biding myself some time, I run my fingers through my hair and slowly nod. “Yeah, I could see myself proposing. It’s almost like when you know, you know. Sage is that person I think I’ve been looking for all this time.”

  “Holy. Shit.” She whistles out a low breath. “Well, if that’s the case, I better be the one who goes ring shopping with you.”

  “Ha.” I shake my head and turn back to the TV, switching the channel. “That won’t be happening. You’d end up spending all my damn money.”

  With a wink she says, “But it would be worth it.”

  * * *

  “Why are we here again?” I ask, following closely behind Ryan who is like a kid in a candy shop.

  “Because it’s fun. Plus, what if we find a stone?”

  “A stone?”

  With a glint in her eye, she nods. “Yeah, you know, an engagement ring.”

  Have you ever told someone something and immediately regretted it? That’s where I am right now. Two weeks ago, I confessed to Ryan all the things she wanted to know about my relationship with Sage, and she has yet to drop it whenever we’re around. She’s constantly making sure I’m doing everything right. She says I’m lucky to have Sage and she doesn’t want me to “fuck it up.” I get that. I don’t need the reminder.

  “Is that why you brought me to this pawn shop?”

  “Of course not,” she scoffs, giving me a get real look. “We’re here to find something special, something I can put in my little efficiency apartment and make it my own. The glamping I’ve been doing needs some spice. Plus, it would be nice if you came over to my place every once in a while. The drive to Nellis plus the interrogation with the guards is getting annoying.”

  “They ask for your ID. How is that interrogation?”

  “Uh, they ask what I’m doing on base, and what if I was going for a booty call? Am I supposed to tell them sex-fest, leave me alone?”

  “I’d pay you fifty bucks to say that to them. But you have to record it to earn your money.”

  She tsks me. “You clearly don’t know who you’re dealing with, Brooks. Consider that fifty bucks mine. Now help me find something for my apartment that will make it more appealing for you to visit me. It would be nice if YOU brought ME burritos.”

  “You realize that if I lie down in your apartment, my arms and legs take up the entire space.”

  “Oh wow, way to over exaggerate.”

  Her place is not that small, but it’s pretty damn small and the camping chairs are only nice for the first hour, and then they start cutting into your legs.

  “What if instead of finding some random decoration, we find you some furniture?”

  Eying an old umbrella, she flips it between her hands, examining it. “No furniture until I can find a bigger place. My chairs and blowup mattress work for now.”

  “First piece of furniture to replace is that bed.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my bed.”

  I level with her. “You have to blow it up every night because it has a hole in it, and you end up being sucked in like a human taco by the morning.”

  She jiggles the umbrella at me. “And you know what? It’s comforting, because it feels like my bed is hugging me, and what a wonderful thing to wake up to. A hug.”

  I remove the umbrella from her hand and set it back in the bucket it came from. “We really need to find you a guy if you’re getting love from an air mattress.”

  She chuckles. “I’ll take it where I can get it. At least I know the mattress will always be there for me, even if it doesn’t stay erect for the whole night.”

  “You just had to say erect, didn’t you?”

  “I did.” She smiles up at me and then wraps her arm around my waist, pulling me into a hug. “Seriously though, thanks for coming with me. I like it when we get to hang out, just you and me. I like the boys, but
they can be . . .”

  “Obnoxious?”

  “So obnoxious. By the way, you told Sage to meet us for dinner, right? At Pine?”

  “Yup. She’s excited.”

  “Good. The manager is obsessed with Heather from the show, and she told me to drop her name in front of him, and he’ll give us the best seats and foods on him. Can’t get better than that.” Pausing, Ryan turns toward me, head bent back to look me in the eyes. “Is it weird that he said bring a date and I’m taking you and Sage? Will he think we’re sister wives?”

  I chuckle and pull her into another hug. “I fucking hope so. Shit like that is funny.”

  * * *

  “Go ahead, tell her what you got.” Ryan motions to me once we’re seated at Pine, water in our glasses and bread on the table with some of the best homemade butter I’ve ever had.

  “You got something at the pawn shop?” Sage’s face is lit up, excited to hear about our shopping adventure. It’s why I . . . why I . . . like her so much. She’s a bright beam in this dull and scary world, and instead of being jealous of my relationship with Ryan, she’s supportive, always making sure I’m checking up on her.

  Although, sometimes Sage gets too involved. She keeps telling me that Rowdy and Ryan should go out together, that they are soul mates and don’t know it yet. Even though Rowdy is my boy, I don’t see it. Yeah, they’re both fun and entertaining, but Ryan needs someone who will balance her out, someone who will give her guidance, and Rowdy is in need of the same thing.

  I might be old-fashioned, but in my mind there are two types of people in a relationship. There is the responsible and organized one, the realistic person. And there is the dreamer, the person who pushes their partner to try new things, to think outside the box, to let loose. Ryan and Rowdy are both dreamers, which is a dangerous match. They might have fun at first, but someone needs to step up to ground the relationship and neither of them have the capacity to do that. Dreamers should be allowed to dream, and their partners should ground them when necessary.

  “Don’t be shy, tell her.” There is a giant smile on Ryan’s face, having way too much fun with this. “She’s going to find out at some point when you hang it above your bed like you said you wanted to.”