Lips that were my deliverance.
Lips that could be kissing some other guy within twenty-four hours.
I smiled reassuringly through the fire in my ribs. “I know the feeling. What’s his story?” I asked, not wanting to know.
“He’s an artist named Steve. I don’t know too much else.”
“What’s his medium?” I was genuinely interested, only because I hoped it was something I could hold against him.
“Not sure, though I know he makes furniture at least.”
I nodded, impressed despite myself. “Lots of math, which is why I never got into it.”
She laughed. “Right? My high school algebra teacher was a friggin’ liar. I’ve never once had to solve an algebra problem as an adult.”
“Try learning it on your own. Joel attempting to help me while I was getting my GED was a fucking riot.” I snickered at the memory.
Those smiling lips again. I couldn’t look away. “Oh, my God. I can only imagine the swearing involved in that.”
I chuckled and rested my arms on the back of the couch with a sigh. “Shep’s actually the mathmagician of the family, so at least I had him to step in and save the day when quadratic equations got the best of us.”
“So,” she said as she leaned forward to untie her boots. “I think everyone’s going to Habits night after next. Maggie and Cooper are even going to be there.” She made a mock surprised face.
“It’s a miracle.”
Her eyes were on her fingers as they unlaced the first one enough to slip her foot out. “It’s been so weird lately. Everyone’s so … busy.”
With each other, was the rest of that sentence. “For sure. I feel like I haven’t seen Cooper and Maggie in weeks.”
“Because it has been weeks.” She wiggled her toes before getting to work on the other boot. “We’ve barely seen them since they moved in together after like four seconds of dating.”
“Who would have guessed?”
She chuckled and shed the final shoe, dropping it with a thump. “Certainly not West. I’m surprised he only decked Cooper once for nailing his sister.”
“West has two rage buttons: Lily and Maggie.”
“Truth. It’ll be good to see everyone, since they’re all taking a break from being grownups, or whatever.” She wrinkled her nose.
I shook my head, thinking about how much had changed over the last couple of months. “It blows my mind that Cooper, playboy of the century, the guy who never took anything seriously, has a live-in girlfriend and a real, adult job. At an investment firm. Where he wears a suit and tie to work every day.”
“Playboy to professional. At least he has somewhere to wear all those fancy suits of his.”
I chuckled. “Like Coop needs an excuse.”
“True. And then Lily and West are just together all the time. It’s so strange to be here alone all the time now,” she added, partly to herself.
“Mine’s the opposite. It’s strange to feel like you have nowhere to go. Though it’s not like I haven’t been through that before. At least I’m not a kid this time, and at least it’s not like I really have nowhere to go.” I watched her for a beat. “Thanks again for letting me stay, Rose.”
Her face softened. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I can help, even though you’re still a dick for not asking first.”
I put my hands up in surrender. “Hey, blame Lily for that.”
“Oh, trust me. I do.” She stretched and groaned. “Man, I’m beat. Getting up at eight in the morning is horse shit.”
I laughed. “You get used to it.”
“Who said I wanted to?” she asked as she stood.
I grabbed my stuff and followed her to the bedrooms. “Hey, don’t knock it. You’d be surprised at how much you can get done when you’re awake during the day.”
Rose yawned one stretched-out word. “Pass.” She turned in her threshold and looked up at me with dark eyes, most of her hidden in shadows of her dark room. “Sleep well.” The words were soft, full of some emotion I couldn’t quite place. I only knew I wanted to cross the small space between us and kiss her until she was breathless.
But instead, I stepped into Lily’s dark bedroom. “You too,” I said quietly. And I closed my door as she closed hers, putting the walls between us as we always did.
6
SAVE ME
Rose
I WOKE THE NEXT MORNING to the damn cats again, though at least this time they didn’t break up contraband dreams about certain sexy ex-boyfriends who happened to be sleeping in the next room.
Not that it mattered. I had a date with a cute guy in a few hours, and I was optimistic. Maybe he wasn’t as hot as Patrick Evans, but who was? I was sure Patrick was some superhuman, unreachable by mere mortals like me. He was on another planet, in another universe. Completely unattainable.
I knew he was still attracted to me — he was about as subtle as a car alarm — but I didn’t know if what he felt went deeper than that. The man was written in a language I didn’t understand. I thought I did through the things we didn’t have to say. But he was otherwise closed to me. I could see the pieces of him moving behind his eyes, but the meaning was lost on me. The attraction was the only thing that was simple. The only thing that made any sense.
And today, I felt better and worse about him. Last night marked the first real conversation between the two of us since we’d broken up.
Look, I get that it’s crazy. We hang out all the time. But I’d conditioned myself to ignore him, which I think might have made him crank the intensity. I don’t even think he knew he was doing it. He just looked like that. Lily called it resting smolder face.
I called it trouble.
My date was in a few hours, and I was still nervous. It was the kind of morning I’d usually find Lily and curl up in her lap like a cat so she could pet me, but Lily wasn’t here. So I shuffled out of the apartment and down the hall in my pajamas, knocking on the door in warning, opening it when I didn’t hear any protests.
“Lil?” I called.
“In here,” she said from the bedroom.
I closed the door and walked toward their room. “You decent?”
“For now,” West said, and Lily laughed.
“Don’t scare her away. Come in.”
I smiled when I walked into the room. They were stretched out in bed wearing pajamas even though it was ten, which might as well have been four in the afternoon to them.
“Aww, look at you bums,” I said, the words gooey and sweet.
West had a full-sized bed, and Lily scooted, shuffling West against the wall to make room for me. “Pile in, Rosie.”
I climbed in and slipped under the covers.
West propped up his head and smiled. “Maybe I’ll go make breakfast so you two can make out.”
I laughed. “What a gentleman.”
“Just be sure to give the nanny cam over there a good show, all right?” He made a show of it, angling his head to peer at his bookshelf, pointing in its direction.
We giggled, and West kissed Lily on the cheek and climbed out of bed, stretching his long body and twisting his dark hair up into a knot.
“Thanks, LumberWest,” I called. “I’ll have bacon and eggs, please.”
“You got it.” He winked and left the room.
Lily’s cheeks were rosy, her smile soft and sweet. She looked like a princess — wide, blue eyes, long blond hair, creamy skin. And I’d never seen her so happy, not in all the years I’d known her.
“I miss you.” It just slipped out — I hadn’t meant to get all sappy. But I couldn’t help it. I really did miss her, and was feeling sentimental. I might have also been PMSing, or as I sometimes called it, the Filter Deteriorator.
“I miss you too, Rosie.”
“I wish you’d been there last night when I got home. Tricky was sitting in the living room almost like he was waiting on me.”
She raised a brow. “Oh? How’d that go?”
I sighed as
she moved back to West’s pillow, relinquishing hers to me. I gave it a solid punch to fluff it before settling in. “Well, I told him I had a date, which wasn’t weird at all.”
“That bad?”
“I mean, I guess it could have been worse. He asked me polite questions about it with his face like a statue or a robot or something. Then we talked for a little and went to bed.”
She rolled her eyes. “Boring.”
“You’re the worst. What do you expect us to do? Make out?”
“Just take off your clothes and parade your goodies around for him,” she said cheerily.
“I’d rather not have sex with my ex, Lil.” The words were as flat as my face.
She gave me a look.
My eyes narrowed. “You’re really not helping.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh. “I just know that you two care about each other, and you’re both important to me. I want you to be happy. And the thought of double-dating with you guys makes my brain explode.”
I chuckled. “Well, don’t hold your breath.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Rose Fisher.” She pulled the covers up so we were in up to our necks and smiled innocently. “So when are you meeting Sexy Steve?”
Nerves fluttered through my ribcage at the thought of meeting a stranger for a date. “In a couple of hours.”
“So, dating again.”
“Scary. I don’t exactly have a stellar track record when it comes to guys.”
She chuckled. “Who does?”
“Hell if I know. I swear, bad luck with guys must be a Fisher thing. Like, my cousin Ellie. Every guys she’s dated ends up being a jerkwad asshole. She called the other day, I guess this latest one is a real piece of work. She thinks he might be cheating on her.”
“Ugh.”
“And then there’s me. The guys I’ve dated have either been completely unavailable or egomaniacs. Take Jack, for instance. You don’t know rock bottom until your boyfriend and roommate leave town and steal everything in your apartment that wasn’t nailed down.”
She raised an eyebrow. “No, but I did get suckered by the biggest douchewhore in the New York City Ballet.”
“Nice try. Blane at least brought you to West.”
She smiled. “And Jack running off with Liz brought me to you.”
I chuckled. “God, I’m glad you answered my Craigslist ad and not some psycho.”
“You had me at Vaginas only. Penis denied on entry.”
“Seriously, you could have been a serial killer,” I said with a laugh. “Let’s just agree that ninety percent of all humans are assholes. Statistically.”
“You’re so cynical.”
“I know. I can’t help it. Growing up in LA ruined me, and people like Jack and Liz just drove the last nails in the coffin. I mean, I moved here for Jack, and then he fucked me over so hard.” I shifted my voice into jerk-boy tone. “Come on, babe. The LA scene is tired.’ It sounded like an adventure at the time. And then he wanted to turn around and go back when he got picked up by that Indie label in Burbank. I felt like a rubber band.”
She shook her head. “Jack was a dick.”
“That’s true. But he was so pretty,” I said wistfully.
“Douchesparkle. Lead singers of bands have it all over them. You can’t see the douche for all that hair and musical talent.”
“Honestly, I don’t think it would have been so big of a deal if my best friend hadn’t left with him.”
“Yeah, because clearly she was an awesome friend.”
“Who stole my shit.”
She nodded. “Who stole your shit, exactly. No wonder you love me. The bar was pretty low.”
I laughed. “It was just a reminder that people suck. Probably not one that I needed. I mean, I did grow up in LA. I think they issue Fuck Everybody T-shirts to all California residents at the DMV.”
“Sounds like New York and LA aren’t so different after all.”
I snorted. “Shhh, don’t say that too loud. Wouldn’t want to start a fight.”
“Well, let’s look at it this way. Maybe you’ve put in your dues on shitty guys. Maybe it’s time for the Fisher luck to turn around. I mean, you’ve got a hot date today, and if things don’t go well, a hot guy is sleeping in your apartment.”
“Ha, ha.”
“Do you know what you’re going to wear?”
“Duh. That’s obviously what I did when I was trying to fall asleep last night.” When I wasn’t thinking about Tricky like twenty feet away. With no shirt on.
“So are you going to do a three date bang? Does he need to buy you dinner before you give up the goods?”
I cackled.
“What? You’ve got to have a game plan. It’s not Tinder, so at least there’s no unspoken expectation that you’re only meeting to bone.”
“I’m pretty hard up, but I’m not that hard up. I have plenty of Tumblr porn and batteries to get me by without having to resort to Tinder. I think I’m ovulating too because I’m super lucky in the uterus department. Do you know how shitty it is to have PMS and raging ovulation hormones? I was watching anime the other night and totally got a ladyboner. An anime ladyboner. What has happened to me?”
“Anime dudes are sexy, ovulation or not. I don’t know what it is about them.”
“The emotional unavailability?”
She shrugged. “Probably.”
“I don’t know, but clearly I’m extra frisky, which sucks because Tricky is a trigger.”
She waggled her brows. “Yeah, he is. A real pistol.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Sorry.”
“You’re so full of shit.”
She giggled. “I know. So, Steve.”
“Yes. Steve. Thank you. So, I think definitely a three-date situation sounds right. Make sure he’s not nuts. Unless he’s fairly normal and really, really hot. Then I can’t be trusted because it’s been a long, long time.”
“I approve.”
My mind skipped through scenarios of the date, kicking up my nerves. “I wish I could put you in my pocket and take you with me. I don’t want to do this alone.”
She smiled. “You’ll be fine, Rose. It’s like riding a bike.”
“If you say so. Will you be here when I get home?”
“I don’t think so — we’re going to have a late lunch and go to a movie.”
I pouted. “Well, damn.”
“Text me and let me know how it goes. We can talk at Habits tonight too,” she assured me.
“For sure. I’m excited to have everyone in one place tonight.”
“And if your date sucks, we’ll all be there to make fun of him with you. And then we can pick out your next guy. Group effort, and all.”
I raised a brow. “And what if I don’t want to go on another one?”
“Aw, come on, Rosie. Don’t be a party pooper.”
I chuckled.
“Bacon’s ready,” West called from the other room.
I peeled myself out of bed. “Now that is something I’ll get out of bed for, no questions asked.”
Rose
A few hours later, I approached Roasted, wiping my palms on my jeans. My last first date was over a year ago and with one of my best friends, taking its viability as ‘first date’ consideration down a couple of notches. And despite my steady stride and don’t give a fuck expression, I was nervous.
Real nervous.
UndyingArt, otherwise known as Sexy Steve, stood when I entered, smiling. He was a good looking guy, tall and blond, with neatly combed hair. His Henley sleeves were pushed up to his muscular forearms.
I noted that he was wearing a scarf. It was June. Apparently there’s no hipster-o-meter on OKCupid.
“Rose?” he asked hopefully.
I smiled and extended a hand in greeting. “Hey, Steve.”
Rather than take my hand, he grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me into a hug. My eyes widened, nose burning from the scent clinging to him, somethi
ng chemical and sharp. I pulled away first, and he reluctantly let me go.
He sort of smirked down at me. “Sorry. I always say you can tell a lot about a person by their hug. Test number one.” He winked, and I gave him what I was sure was an awkward smile.
Not gonna lie. I was super uncomfortable. I was not one of those people who hugged strangers, especially not strangers who smelled vaguely of a funeral home. My eyes darted to the door.
“Want to sit over here?” he asked.
“Sure.” I followed him to a table by the window, hoping I was just overreacting or nervous, ready to give him the benefit of the doubt, though I really wished I’d planned an escape call with Lily.
Steve took a seat and leaned back, folding his hands over his stomach. “Man, I didn’t even ask you if you wanted coffee or anything. Maybe a lemon bar? I know you like those.”
A tingle crawled up the back of my neck. “How did you know that?”
He waved a hand. “Oh, I spent a couple of hours checking out your Facebook. You took a picture of one the last time you were here. Your entire profile is public, did you know that?”
The tingle found its way up to my face. “No. No I didn’t.”
Steve chuckled. “Anyway, just let me know if you want a little something. And sorry if I smell like formaldehyde. I swear, it won’t wash out.”
I raised an eyebrow in surprise, part of my brain relieved at making the connection to the smell while the other was really glad I’d met Steve in such a public place. “I thought you made furniture?”
“I do. Taxidermy furniture. You know, stuffed chairs, beds, divans.”
I had been looking forward to telling Patrick what his medium was. Not anymore. “Wow, that’s … fascinating,” I said flatly.
Steve nodded, looking really proud of himself. “I’ve always loved dead things. My mom stuffed her schnauzer, Mitzi, when she died, and man, I was so into it. I used to keep her in my room. Like, I love the idea that you could preserve something forever.”
I turned on my bartending skills, which are largely pretending skills, looking for an opening to leave. “It’s cool you get to do something you love for a living.”