The Guy on the Right Read online

  “I’m aware.”

  “But you’ve never had it, so it’s only fair I point it out.”

  “Right.”

  “But until you know for sure, keep Gina out of it.”

  “I will.”

  “How long has it been now?”

  “Almost a month and a half, penis free.”

  “Impressive.”

  “Don’t you mock me,” I say, shutting the truck door and leaning over her hood to scorn her. “I’ll have you know I’ve faced off with temptation twice, not only that, but by the same fine-ass man and came out victorious. I’m getting so good at this I feel it might be my duty to write a ‘how-to’ handbook for those like me.”

  Just as I finish my sentence Chase pulls up in his Jeep, his cabin loaded with bulging, sweating masculinity. It’s all I can do to keep my mouth closed when they hop out, muscles rippling with the aftermath of their morning workout.

  Devin tilts her head, weighing my expression with a grin. “That’s right, you haven’t met the groomsmen yet.”

  Swallowing hard, I meet the eyes of tall, dark, and, ridiculously fucking handsome before ripping them away, straightening myself upright and averting my eyes.

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t dip your pen in ink just yet,” Devin says snidely right before her fiancé sweeps her into his arms and I make it safely to the other side of the shop door.

  Theo

  Laney: Good morning. You should be so proud of me.

  Theo: Should I?

  Laney: Yep, I got tested once again yesterday and passed with flying colors. I think I’ll buy myself a taco later to celebrate the nurturing of my celibacy.

  Theo: Proud of you.

  I ignore the twinge of jealousy that threatens. Aside from my confession on Halloween, I’ve kept anything other than my platonic feelings out of the relationship. But those other feelings are getting harder to ignore. It was the drive home from the hero party when I started to feel them. When she asked me what was wrong, I’d blundered the truth a little. The truth was, I was worried I might be making the same mistake with Laney as I did with Nora. I’d been way too laid back with Nora, afraid to use any assertiveness for fear she wouldn’t like that side of me. With Laney, I’m still totally unsure if I should make a move. And if I did, what would her reaction be?

  It bothered me that she wanted me to feel free to hook up with other girls, and that she wouldn’t stand in my way if I did. The budding truth is that I want her to care. It’s that simple. I spent some of the drive weighing if the friendship was worth keeping if these feelings continue to grow one-sided. But at times, I catch her looking at me in a way that suggests more, and it gives me hope.

  My growing attraction is proving to be more than I can handle in the Teddy zone. And each time she looks at me, I refuse the pull. Even if at times I feel like she wants me to kiss her, I’m just not sure that it’s ‘try the nice guy’ curiosity on her part. I could play her guinea pig, but at what cost to me? I’m not that guy anymore. I owe it to myself not to second guess if a girl wants me or not.

  Not only that, it’s the relationship part that scares the hell out of me. Between Laney’s track record, and my disposition on relationships we don’t exactly mesh. She’s told me herself, several times, she has a gypsy heart. And that, in and of itself, is a recipe for disaster. I need to take that statement at face value, and if so, what could we possibly start together?

  Laney: Come get a coffee before class. On me. (coffee emoji)

  Theo: Sounds good.

  Like every day since the party, I push those thoughts away. Until I’m sure, I’m not fucking up our friendship on an inkling. The ball is just going to have to keep bouncing where it is. But it might be time to make her aware it’s there. Faint steps sound down the stairs of the house that I know don’t belong to either roommate. “Good Morning,” I greet as I pull some dripping bacon from the pan. “Have a seat if you want, you’re just in time. Nothing fancy, just eggs and bacon. I hope that’s okay?”

  “Theo?”

  Every muscle in my body clenches in recognition of that voice.

  I turn to see her gawking from the entrance of the kitchen, wide eyes raking over me as she stands covered in nothing but Troy’s jersey.

  “Lightly scrambled, right?”

  Mouth parted, she looks in the direction she came. “I-I—”

  “Don’t run off. What’s it been, a year? We should catch up,” I say, pushing the eggs around the pan doing everything in my power to keep my shit together.

  “What are you…uh…”

  “Doing here? I live here,” I answer evenly, plating her breakfast and placing it on the table. “We’re fresh out of linen,” I say, tearing off a paper towel and pulling a plastic fork from the drawer. “You know how it is. Lot of traffic coming in and out.”

  “I’ll just g—”

  I pull out the metal chair, and it scrapes noisily on the floor.

  “Have a seat. Don’t want you missing the most important meal of the day after that workout.”

  “You have to believe I had no idea.”

  “Take a seat, Nora.”

  Her eyes search mine for empathy she’ll never find, her lips quivering before she slowly sinks down into the seat. I painstakingly take my time pushing her uncomfortably close to the table.

  “There you are. Juice?”

  She nods as I pour her the last of Troy’s juice.

  “H-how have you been?”

  “Peachy.” I slam the empty carton on the table and glare down at her. “You?”

  “I’ve been—”

  “Good to hear,” I snap, “Make sure to sign the guestbook on your way out.”

  “Theo, please believe me. I had no idea. I would never hurt you like this.”

  “Hurt me?” I harrumph, pointing to my chest. “No. You no longer have the ability to hurt me. This isn’t hurt, Nora, it’s disgust. Eat up.”

  “I’m not hungry.” She’s on the verge of tears, and I couldn’t care less.

  From behind, I lean down, placing my hands on the table on either side of her and lean low to whisper in her ear. “This is the part where I typically give my usual pep talk. You know, to comfort those with conscience enough to regret being used. But don’t worry, Nora, I’m well aware you don’t have a conscience. And there’s no way I could possibly think less of you than I already do. But I can promise you this, you’re still very much the same girl you were when you walked through that door last night.”

  She bursts into tears and oddly, I’m not satisfied.

  “What the hell is going on?” Troy asks as he enters the kitchen and glances down at Nora before lifting accusing eyes to mine.

  “Oh good, you can keep her company. I have a full day.”

  “What happened?” Troy asks, leaning down to try and console her, his posture intimate, which only further infuriates me. I spent years knowing her, memorizing her, worshiping her, loving her, and he knows her in a way I never will. It’s dick jealousy, pure and simple, and it should surprise me that I can still feel that when it comes to her. I’m acting like a caveman when I’m the one who gave her the walking papers. And for good damned reason.

  Still, the serrated knife that’s just been daggered into my back is unforgiving.

  Troy looks between us utterly clueless. I should take some comfort in the fact they’re both bystanders of fucked up circumstance due to their own brand of self-destructive and narcissistic behavior, but I’m just angry. Angry at myself for caring.

  “Kudos on this one, she’s a rarity. Truly, one of a kind. She has her picture-perfect future mapped out. But, be careful, she has a pair of sharp scissors and will cut you out without warning.”

  “What the fuck, man?” Troy says, bowing up to me in ridiculous defense.

  “I’d give you more of a rundown on the girl you just fucked,” I say, spitting the word out with intent, “but time is precious, and I’ve wasted enough on her.”

  Gathering my shit from
the hall, I hear their exchanged whispers before I slam the front door and make my way toward my Honda. Fuming, I toss my case and backpack into the backseat when Troy approaches.

  “Jesus, man. I had no idea.”

  Slamming the door, I cross my arms. “Of fucking course, you didn’t.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” He runs a hand down his face. “I fucked up.”

  “Did you even talk to her?” I clench and unclench my fists. “Do you ever really talk to any of them?” His silence is deafening. “If you would have spent more than five fucking minutes luring her into your bed, you might have been able to connect the dots. Instead, you’ve fucked my ex!” I’m seething, and I hate myself for it.

  “Tell me what to do to make this right.”

  “You can’t do anything.” I snap, dangerously tempted to take a shot towards a fight I can’t possibly win. She’s no longer worth it, but I can’t help pointing out the time I thought she was. “That girl meant everything to me, for years, and you fuck her and treat her like she’s disposable. Can’t you see how wrong that is?”

  Eyes cast down; he shakes his head. “Tell me what to do.”

  “How about you grow the fuck up a little?”

  “It was a mistake.”

  “No, hell no,” I say as he brings guilty eyes up to mine. “You don’t get to claim that. That was intentional. She was my mistake. To you, she was just last night.”

  Slamming my driver door closed, I turn the ignition as Nora comes into view on the porch. Her porcelain complexion splotched with evidence of her tears. I can’t help myself, I drink her in. Long dark blonde hair, dark blue eyes. With the stab of recognition, somehow, I know this is how it would have felt had I caught her red-handed, but then it would have been a million times worse. Most of my anger stems from the time that’s passed and the fact that even though I told her differently, she still has the ability to singe me. Because today she just burned me bad. And why? Because there’s no poetic justice for suckers like me.

  Grannism—Everyone should do something bat shit crazy once in a while, it’s good for the soul.

  Laney

  Theo stands at the back of the line, his eyes cast down on his black high-top chucks. He looks adorable today in dark jeans, a V-neck, and a checkered sweater vest. I love the way he dresses—prep meets rock and roll—and his style is all his own. He’s trimmed his beard a little, and it’s closer to his face. His ear length brown hair curled slightly at the ends framing his jaw.

  Though he’s dressed to the nines, his posture is deflated. It’s when I take a second look, and he doesn’t try to catch my eyes while I scribble an order, that I know something is wrong.

  I nudge my co-worker, Carrie, who’s just finished layering the perfect dick on top of a cappuccino. Carrie is not a fan of our mostly male customer base either. “I’m taking ten. It’s important.”

  She nods, stepping in front of me to take the next order as I walk down the line and approach Theo while he rubs a clenched fist along his forehead. I pull his hand away, searching his face.

  “Hey, you. What’s going on?”

  “I made breakfast this morning.” He swallows before bringing tumultuous eyes to mine, “for Nora.”

  “Jesus, Theo,” I whisper. “Come on.” I pull at his hand, encasing it with my own as he tightens our grip and squeezes. He needs me. I try to ignore the zing in my chest at the realization as I walk him to the back of the coffee house. We stand at the open back door, and he pulls his hand away from mine and starts pacing.

  “What happened?”

  “What happened? Troy fucked her. In my house, feet away from me. And I’m jealous. Isn’t that pathetic?”

  “No. Anyone would be pissed.”

  “It disgusts me,” he manages through a clenched jaw. “How can I feel anything after all this time. After what she did?”

  “I think we’re wired to want what we can’t have. It’s not wrong to feel the way you do. You were cheated on and just got your nose rubbed in it.”

  “Why, why him? Why guys like him? Tell me what’s so appealing about that kind of guy. Look, I’m not saying all gene lottery winners are hollow inside. But tell me why, when it’s abundantly clear what some are after, do women temporarily decide to loosen their morals for twenty meaningless minutes?”

  I swallow. “I’m not the spokeswoman.”

  “No, but you’re a subscriber to that same type of asshole.”

  “I promise you, once the buzz wears off and the feelings, or lack of kick in, it can feel pretty shitty.”

  Accusing eyes meet mine. “Yet you go back for more.”

  “Whoa, down boy, used to,” I remind him, “and stop pointing that sword at me. I’m not the enemy.”

  “I want to hate her. I do hate her. I hate that I got all territorial and jealous.”

  “Theo, you’re still a man, and he pissed all over the house. I get it. It makes perfect sense.”

  “How can it make sense to you? You’ve never felt this.”

  “Hey,” I close the distance. “Stop beating the help.”

  “Sorry,” he says, shoving his hands in his jeans. He leans on the frame of the back door and looks up to me with desperate eyes. His hurt circulates through the air between us. “I mean it. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “God, I’m never going back there.”

  “Yes, you are,” I say softly. “This too, shall pass. And you look…you look,” I avert my eyes, “you look really good, Theo. There’s no way she’s not regretting it right now.”

  “Troy is over six foot with an eight pack, and I’ve got mabs.”

  “Mabs?”

  He gives me a reluctant grin. “Maybe abs?”

  I burst into laughter, and he shakes his head with a groan.

  “I can’t ever seem to get a damn leg up with women. Ever.”

  “Well, I’m in the same boat. And do me a favor, don’t ever introduce me to that asshole.”

  “Wasn’t planning on it, but why?”

  “The first reason is obvious, he’s my kryptonite. But the real reason is because l will rip his balls from his body.”

  His lips turn up.

  “It’s cute you think I’m kidding.”

  “I have no doubt you would.”

  “Oh, I will. It’s the version of Crazy Laney you never want to meet.”

  “You’re a good friend, Laney.” His voice is soft, face crestfallen due to what I’m sure is a burning image of his ex-girlfriend post roommate romp.

  “I’m so sorry. But I assure you, that particular brand of poison never tastes as sweet as the first sip. After that, it’s just nasty aftertaste. Abs definitely don’t make the man.”

  I palm his cheek. “And I might’ve been a little trigger shy in revealing this to you, Theo, but you aren’t anything to sneeze at. Like at all.”

  His eyes connect with mine fully, and there’s a sort of recognition in them I’ve never seen before.

  “There’s been times I’ve wanted to tell you,” nerves fire off as he studies me carefully. “It’s just never really been fittin’ to admit it, b-because we’re friends.”

  Something heavy lingers in the air, and I pull my hand away. I’m not allowed to touch him again until I know for sure if I want more than friendship. But don’t I know? I’m jealous right now that he’s jealous about his ex. Isn’t that sign enough?

  Hey, Gina, now would be the time to speak up.

  But it’s not my nether region that’s pulsing faster by the second, it’s the organ in my chest that’s starting to make the most noise.

  “Anyway, I’ve got just the thing for today.” Opening my locker, I pull out the metal container that my buddy, Fraz, gave me in case of emergency and open it, before approaching Theo. “Trust me?”

  “Not even remotely.” He eyes the gummy. “What is it?”

  “It’s a pot gummy, you know, an edible.” I waggle my brows.

  “I don’t do pot.”
/>   “No one says ‘do’ pot. You smoke it. Or in our case, eat it. And we’ll do it together.”

  “What are you doing with that in your purse?”

  “Saving it for days when my new best friend has a meltdown. That day has come, my friend.”

  He gives me a wary glance. “I have class in an hour.”

  “Then class will be a blast. It’s supposed to be super mild. I think.”

  “You think?”

  “I mean we aren’t smoking it, so it can’t be as harsh, right?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never done it.”

  “Me neither. I’m doing it with you.”

  “I don’t think this is the answer.”

  “Neither is obsessing about your ex, and I’m not in the mood for a hangover. Live a little, Houseman,” I say, tearing the disc in half and popping it into my mouth. “Down the hatch,” I instruct holding the other half up to him. “Just a little buzz to take away the blues.”

  “Right,” he takes half of the gummy, chewing it while cringing before he swallows. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

  “Ex-hate will make you do stupid shit, and now we’re both going down the rabbit hole. What class should I pick you up from?”

  “Music Composition. Sam Houston building. 203.”

  “Okay, I’ll be waiting outside the door when you get out. Go, it shouldn’t hit you until you get to school.”

  “That was stupid,” he says, shaking his head and readjusting his backpack.

  “I got it from an old high school friend a couple of months ago. I trust him. This will be great, you’ll see.” I raise up on my toes and wrap my arms around him. He hugs me back while murmuring a low, “Thank you.”

  Backing away, I kiss his jaw, loving the sensation of his beard tickling my lips. What I see in his eyes, lights a fire in me. His gaze travels to my lips, and I sense the hesitation to pull away and grow more curious about the fire brewing in my chest. I want to be kissed by him, but not when he’s in the midst of mourning his past with another woman. I nudge his shoulder.

  “Go. I’ll see you in a bit.”