Crash Ride (11 page)

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Authors: T Gephart

BOOK: Crash Ride
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“True.” It’s not like I could disagree.

Hannah waved her oven-mitted hand and called everyone to attention. “Okay everyone, grab a seat. It’s time to eat.”

The rowdy group that we were moved to the table. Asses found their seats with no real thought given to the seating plan. Conversations not interrupted during the process.

Rather than pussy out, I pulled out a chair and gave her a nod. “Megs.”

It could have gone either way, but I was glad when she took me up on my offer and sat down. Keeping my hand from running down her bare arm while she took her seat had been fucking difficult. Although the bigger challenge was not looking down the front of her dress, which was doing a wonderful job and showcasing her perky… not fucking helping.

Megs shuffled back in toward the table, rewarding me with a big smile. “Thanks, such a gentleman.”

“For pulling out your chair?” I took my seat beside her; surprised she’d had been so easy to impress. I know the whole pulling-out-the-chair thing was a bit cliché, but when the mood took me, I could play nice.

“Nope.” Her eyebrow rose as she leaned in to whisper. “For not looking down my dress.”

Uh-hum, had it suddenly gotten warmer in here? “Oh, I looked; I’m just good at not being caught,” I lied, and apparently I was a comedian because my response had made her laugh. Like a real laugh— not some half-assed chuckle. It was a nice sound too and I really liked the way it made me feel. I was going to need to hear more of it.

A bunch of separate conversations zigzagged over the mountain of food that sat in front of us. Alex and James were talking shop. Hannah, Ash and Lexi were talking babies, and Dan and Jason were in a fierce car debate about whether American muscle was more superior to European design. No one paid us any attention.

“Have you been good?” I leaned over and picked up a plate of some kind of chicken and offered it to Megs.

She smiled and helped herself to some food before answering. “Yeah, I’ve been buried in work but I’ve been okay. How about you?”

This felt good. We were having a normal conversation, and look we weren’t fucking each other senseless up against a wall. Who knew?

“I’ve been doing band stuff. Same old, same old.” I grabbed a spoonful of potato salad and slapped it onto my plate. “I’m glad you came tonight.”

Megs scrunched her nose up at the potato salad, opting for the garden salad instead. “I’m glad too. I’ll be honest, I didn’t want to.”

I froze. She didn’t want to? Not sure I wanted to know the answer, but I had to ask anyway. “Why? Because of me?”

“Yeah,” She shrugged. “We said we wouldn’t let it get awkward and it got awkward. I wanted to call you; I just thought it would be easier if I didn’t.”

Yeah, not happy with that. Last thing I wanted was for her not to wanna be around me. How was that a good thing? Nope, that was not okay. The only way the stupid hell of not being with her would make any sense was if I could still be sure she was okay. Wow. When did that happen?

“We both probably could have handled it a little better; I mean, I didn’t call you either. But, Megs, you want to call me, call me. We said we’d stay friends and we can’t do that if we are avoiding each other.”

“You’re so wise, Troy Harris.”

“Well playing drums only takes up so many hours in the day, everyone needs a hobby.”

She laughed again, this time the light hit her eyes and made them sparkle. If I hadn’t already been sitting down, I would have needed to. She was so freaking beautiful and when she laughed she did things to me I just didn’t understand.

So this was our deal now, laughing and talking but no fucking. Yep. This was going to blow.

 

That first post-sex
encounter hadn’t been so bad. After the initial, hey-let’s-pretend-I-don’t-know-what-you-look-like-naked, we were actually in a good place. Not to say that I didn’t wish things could be different and that we could see each other naked again—with everything else that comes with that— but friendship is where we seemed poised to stay. So I kept telling myself.

Because I couldn’t leave well enough alone— really, I’m a hazard to myself— I suggested we should
probably
date other people. The conversation went something like this: “So, Troy Harris, seeing as you aren’t dating me, and there’s no hope of that happening, you should let some other lucky lady have the privilege. It will help me move on and this is, after all, all about me.”

Okay so maybe the conversation didn’t go exactly like that, but it was mentioned we should see other people—by me, the idiot — and Troy, who seemed to have no problem with it, readily agreed. I’m not even sure how it was interjected into the conversation. Clearly I suck when it comes to making my mouth not say stupid stuff, so it really wasn’t surprising.

At least we’d finished the evening on a positive note, promising to stop avoiding each other and work our way to a decent friendship. More than sleeping with him again, it’s what I desperately wanted. Just to be able to call and see him again without it being weird would be a start. Okay so not weird was a tall order, maybe less weird than it had been was what I should be aiming for.

Troy and I became somewhat of phone-buddies—yeah I know it sounds like some obscure anime themed App— but we often called each other and had lame-ass conversations. Ridiculous even, but I looked forward to them. Completely nonsexual and everything. At first it was a challenge trying to not picture him naked but we eased into a friendship that was actually kind of nice.

The person to make the first call had been me, when on Monday I dialed his number.

“Megs.” Troy answered the phone almost immediately.

“So, I was thinking.” I didn’t even bother with formalities like hello.

Troy laughed. “Sounds good to me, I usually like it when you get thinking.” I didn’t need to ask where his mind had wandered.

“Awesome, so can I sign you up to be on the next season of
The Bachelor
?” Genuinely curious as to what he would say.

“No, you can’t.” He shot me down, not even entertaining the idea.

“You are no fun, Troy Harris.” I pouted, despite him not being able to see it. I’m sure he heard it though. I had a very pouty voice.

Troy laughed. “Goodbye, Megs.”

The next volley came from Troy on Tuesday.

“Hey, Troy Harris.” I smiled as I placed the phone to my ear. Did I mention how much I really liked seeing his name on my caller ID?

“Hey, Megs, I heard one of the Jonas brother’s is single. I have no idea which one it is, but they all pretty much look alike. You want me to set you up?”

“Please. Like I’d date a Jonas brother.” I exaggerated my displeasure.

He chuckled. “Right, you like your men a little more rock and roll, got it. Ummm let me check TMZ and see who’s available. I’ll call you back.”

My follow up had happened on Wednesday and the conversation had turned from dating to something else entirely.

“Hey, Troy Harris.” His name left my lips as soon as he’d pick up the receiver.

“Hey, Megs, I hope this is important. The Vampire Dairies reruns are on and that Nina whatever-her-name is hot.”

“Oh, I love Vampire Diaries. Damon Salvatore is so misunderstood. This is important. Does your cock ring set off metal detectors at airports? I mean, do you need like pull your pants down and let them wand you?”

“Er, no. Why?”

“Oh, I was bored and thought we could take a drive out to La Guardia and mess with some TSA people. Back to square one I guess. Bye.”

By Thursday I was not only expecting his call but also anxiously waiting for it. My pulse racing a little every time my phone went off.

“Megs.” I heard the smile in his voice. “I hope you found another satisfactory way to amuse yourself yesterday.”

“Oh I sure did. I bought a huge dildo online instead, and I’m going to pack it in my carry on for my next trip.” It took everything I had to suppress my laugh.

“That’s awesome; remind me never to fly with you. Anyway, I got a new Tat today and while I was there I picked up a gift certificate for you. Figured we could get a
return to
label inked on your ass, you know in case you fall down again.”

“Aw, you shouldn’t have. You are so sweet.”

“My pleasure, Megs. There was also a discount on
Ace
bandages at
Walgreens
. I know I shouldn’t spoil you, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“Goodbye, Troy Harris.”

“Bye, Megs.”

Friday had me buzzing with anticipation over his call.

“Hey, Megs.”

I loved hearing him say my name. “Hey, Troy Harris.”

“I used your address to do some internet shopping. I know I should have asked first, but we’re so cool with each other, I figured you’d say yes. I really hate it when people see my name and address and then before you know it…boom a stalker.”

“Sure, no problem at all. What did you buy?”

“Chinese throwing stars and a sword. Hopefully it doesn’t get flagged by the FBI; you don’t have an existing record do you?”

I couldn’t even respond I was laughing so hard. Those calls had been the highlight of my day. It wasn’t just phone calls; there were voice messages as well. At the end of my workday, there would always be a missed call and message from Troy. I’d put my headphones on and would listen on my cab ride home from work. It almost became a sort of therapy for me, a way to unwind.

The mix of feelings that I was experiencing for him was new and exciting. They confused me slightly, not being able to package them up neatly, but I knew my days were better with him in them; even it was just phone calls.

It was official— apart from being sexy and so incredibly funny— Troy Harris was also very sweet and sincere. It was so unexpected. One more thing to add to the list of his perfections; I’d stalled greatly on his imperfections after those original two. Hated coffee and the R2D2 in the kitchen (in case anyone needed a refresher) and even now, those two didn’t seem so bad. The no coffee thing could actually be a positive. I would never have to compete with him for the last cup.

Saturday’s call had been a little bit different. Rather than wait until later in the day, I instead gave him a five a.m. wake up call and played Britney Spear’s “Oops!...I Did It Again” at ear-splitting decibels through the phone. Even though I had also been affected by the sleep deprivation, it had been worth it to hear the expletives that spewed from Troy’s mouth while he tried to work out what was going on. It had taken me at least ten minutes before I had been able to catch my breath. Tears streamed down my cheeks, I had been laughing so hard.

After Troy warned me that we were now at war, the conversation took a more serious turn.

“So, are you dating anyone?” The words leapt out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop them.

“Not really, Jase and I hung out with a couple of girls on Wednesday but nothing really serious.”

“Oh, okay,” I managed to say without choking. My voice almost sounded normal, indifferent. There, something to be proud of.

The thought of him with someone else made my blood run cold. Did I want to know any of this? I should have stopped, but of course I didn’t. I had to dig a little bit deeper, maybe torment myself a little more. It would have been too much to ask to just end the call on a happy note.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It wasn’t any of my business and I had no right to ask.

I heard a small sign. “It wasn’t important. It wasn’t some hot date or anything. What about you? You dating?”

What about me? I hadn’t even looked at a guy since I’d slept with Troy, not seriously anyway. I mean, I’d appreciated the guy in his underwear on the billboard in Time’s Square, but it would have been rude if I hadn’t. The poor guy was in his underwear, demanding attention.

“Me? Sure, there’s this guy I’ve kind of been interested in. Who knows, we might even go out tonight.”

“Really? Well that’s good.”

What did that mean? He wanted me to date? Why couldn’t
he
be jealous? Not that I was jealous. Nooo, of course I wasn’t. I was just curious. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Not sure yet. I’ll probably go out.”

It was his non-committal reply and lack of jealousy that was responsible for my next move. Rational Megs would have never suggested what I was about to suggest. A time machine would have been good. So I could’ve either gone back and kicked myself for being so stupid or clamp my hand across my mouth so the words didn’t come out.

“Well, you know what would be fun,” I said. The world moved in slow motion as I finished the last part. “We should go on a double date.”

It was like a car crash. The minute it left my mouth, I regretted it and prayed that Troy would shoot down the idea. Who even suggests something like that? You didn’t have to look too far to get your answer. This was by far my dumbest idea.

“Sure.” His words had sealed my fate.

****

Panic set in as the reality hit me. I needed a date, like now. That guy I had kind of been interested in—Fictional. Non-existent. It was something to say so I didn’t sound like a pathetic loser who had been sitting at home waiting for someone who wasn’t interested in her. Yeah, all right. I’ll admit. Me being cool with Troy and I not dating wasn’t entirely the truth. I was fine with it as long as he wasn’t dating someone else. Now I was not only going to have to be
okay
with it but watch it, all night long. Damn it.

So was there dial-a-date service? I sure as hell could use that right now. Trust me, at this point hiring an escort was not off the table. I had no shame and I would rather turn up with Juan Pablo on my dime, than show up alone.

It also didn’t help that I was working against the clock. Assuming I could find someone who would be bearable, what would be the chances they were available on a Saturday night?

I could do this. It was one night. It would be fine. Troy and I were fine, now. I could even look at him and not need to stick panty liners under my armpits to stem the ridiculous amount of perspiration he seemed to induce. See? Totally, fucking, fine.

Was it too late to fake an illness? Something contagious but not so grotesque he would never want to see me again. I paced nervously around my living room. Fuck. I was in deep shit. Think. I willed myself to come up with some master plan but nothing happened, other than giving myself a headache and the possibility of an angina attack from the stress.

The walls were closing in on me as the first two hours ticked over with not even a possible name of a willing victim I could ask. I pulled on my runners and left my apartment for the solace of
Jilly Beans,
my lack of caffeine adding to my distress.

It was there while I ordered my extra large, extra hot latte with an extra coffee shot from hot coffee guy that inspiration struck me. Or was it desperation? Which ever it was, I was thankful. And if I didn’t think it would have earned me some seriously judgmental stares, I would have gotten on my knees and praised God.

“Hi.” I handed over a twenty-dollar bill and gave my best flirty smile.

“Hi,” hot coffee guy responded. His cute smile teased beneath his neatly manicured beard.

“I’ve been watching you for a while…” What the fuck was I saying? I’ve been watching you for a while? I sounded like a freaking stalker. Had I suddenly lost the ability to flirt?

“I meant, I’ve been coming here for a while and I’ve noticed you.” Not much better but we were going to work with it. “And…” I continued hoping that at some point the seductress in me would kick in. “I was wondering if you had any plans for this evening?” Not my best work and probably too direct, but I was on the clock.

“Are you asking me out?” Hot coffee guy leaned against the counter, amused.

Look buddy, this isn’t a sideshow. It’s a yes or a no. “Well, sure. I mean, if you want to. I understand if you have plans. It’s short notice.”

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