Soft Shock (3 page)

“I guess.”

“And that guy
was pretty hot. Admit it.”

Tyler removed
his glasses and the hood of his hoodie. A slow smile crept over his lips. “He
was
scrumptious.”

“Scrumptious?”
Marci laughed. “Did you really just say scrumptious?”

He laughed and
bumped her shoulder with his. “I did. Come off it. You’re still in the doghouse,
you know. So you better be on your best behavior.”

“Okay, how am I
going to make it up to you?”

“You can start
by going out with me tonight.”

“Where do you
want to go?”

“The Hops.”

“You and Ronnie
love that place.” Marci wasn’t a big fan of beer. She was a liquor kind of
girl—might as well get right to the point.

“Hey. This is
your penance. Besides, they have wine. And a full bar.”

“I’ll do it.
For you.”

“You don’t have
to say it like it’s killing you.”

“But it is a
little bit.”

“Ha ha,” Tyler
said dryly.

“Only for you,
love.”

He threw his
arms around her. “I’m so glad we’re friends again. I hate being mad at you.
It’s so stressful. And Gary’s couch is beyond uncomfortable.”

Marci laughed.
“Is that where you were the last few days?”

“Staying over at
ex-boyfriends’ places is so not a good idea. Don’t even get me started on the
debauchery that was the last few days. I’m getting too old for this.” He flung
the back of his hand against his forehead and leaned his head back in an
exaggerated pose of despair.

“You’re
twenty-three.”

“That’s forever
in acting years. I’m fast approaching celebrity middle age before I even get my
big break.”

“That’s not
even close to true.”

“See why I need
you in my life?” Tyler asked. “Okay, so tell me what you’ve been up to while I
was away. Then I’ll tell you all about how I got kicked out of a club in D.C.,
lost my favorite jeans, and almost got in a fight with a queen all in one
night.”

“Sounds like
yours
is
more exciting than mine. I want to hear yours
first,” Marci said, knowing how he loved attention. And he was right. By Tyler
standards, she’d abandoned him over the last few weeks. A little selfish and
moody when he wanted to be, Tyler was still a great friend.
Very
loyal.
Really good friends, the kind that brightened your day just by
being around you and made you realize that the word “family” could mean so much
more than blood, were hard to come by. She didn’t want to lose any of hers.

“You first, you
first. We’ll save the best for last.” Tyler grinned.

“Deal. But
let’s get started while we talk.” Marci gestured to a pile of black garbage
bags stacked across from them on the cement floor. As they tore into black
garbage bags and pulled out mounds of donated clothes, Marci began to tell him
about her fateful encounter with Owen. Only she had no idea at the time how
fateful that encounter truly was.

Chapter Four

Saturday night,
Owen and Dante walked into The Hops. Dante had been messing with his phone
since they’d gotten out of the car earlier.

He finally
looked up after they’d shown their I.D.’s and gotten into the bar. “Brynn
should be here soon,” he said, once again glancing down at his phone. “She just
texted me. She’s running a little late.”

Owen nodded,
looking around the bar as he did. He knew it was irrational to do so, but he
found himself looking for Marci everywhere he went nowadays. It was almost as
if he was willing himself to bump into her. He looked everywhere—from the
student union to the quad to the road on campus where he’d accidentally run her
over to the main library near the chapel—every freaking place he went.

“You’ve been
quiet tonight,” Dante said.

Owen took a
deep breath, catching a good whiff of the yeasty beer smell that was The Hops
in the process. “Thinking, I guess.”

“Not about that
girl.” Dante gave him an incredulous look from behind his black-framed glasses.
“Give it up, man. You’re never going to see her again.”

Owen shrugged
and stuck his hands in his pockets. “You don’t know that. We go to the same
school after all.”

“I don’t know
what’s worse. This lovesick over a stranger mess, or the moping you were doing
before Thursday when you met that woman because of Kristin.”

Kristin was
Owen’s ex-girlfriend who’d left him for a trust fund baby she’d met during a
trip to Nantucket with her parents over the summer. They’d apparently stayed in
touch secretly after the summer unbeknownst to Owen and Trust Fund Baby’s
girlfriend. Then a few weeks ago, Kristin had declared she was in love with
Trust Fund Baby and dumped Owen. She was “so sorry,” and she “never meant to
fall in love with someone else.” Yeah right. She was in love with the fact that
Trust Fund Baby’s family was Very Prominent in New York and had so much money
they shat gold bricks, as Dante had so eloquently put it. Owen could never
compete with Trust Fund Baby in that department.

Owen’s mom had
never liked Kristin—always called her a spoiled rich brat. All Owen’s
friends had predicted Kristin would leave him for a bigger wallet one day.
Foolishly, Owen had ignored them and all their warnings. He’d thought Kristin really
loved him, and that love was more important to her than money.

Owen’s parents were
middle class—or at least had been until his father passed away. Owen was
paying his way through college, and it was a struggle even with work-study and
his second job at Java Time. Owen was by no means ashamed of the fact that his
and Kristin’s families were not on the same financial footing. And he hadn’t
thought it mattered to Kristin, either. Not until she left him for Trust Fund
Baby.

“What’s old
dude’s name anyway?” Dante asked. “The one she met in Nantucket.”

“Dunno.” Owen
had never bothered to learn his name. He didn’t want to know it. “Don’t care.” It
wasn’t like knowing it would bring Kristin back. And everybody except Owen
thought that was a good thing. He wanted to see it as a good thing, but he just
couldn’t. Or at least he hadn’t been able to until Thursday.

He would’ve
married Kristin. He’d really thought that was the direction in which they were
headed. They’d started dating in their first semester of freshman year after
meeting in the lobby of their dorm when she was on her way back from a frat
party, and Owen was on his way back from a late-night run. They’d stayed up all
night on that cheap dorm furniture sofa in the common room and talked. When
he’d told her about the losses his family had suffered, she’d really seemed to
care. He’d known. Just known no one could be more perfect for him. Apparently,
no one could be more perfect for Trust Fund Baby, either.

#

The Hops had
two bars—a main bar and a bar in the back room. Marci followed her
friends to the bar in the back. Tyler’s friend worked back there and always
took care of them. That was another reason Tyler loved The Hops so much.

Tyler and
Ronnie ordered beers—local brews they really liked that Marci couldn’t
pronounce the names of. Marci ordered a whiskey on the rocks. Their friend,
Sadie, was with them as well. She ordered the cheapest swill on the menu. Sadie
had a thing for cheap beers. She blamed it on being a struggling entrepreneur
trying to get her jewelry design business off the ground, but Marci knew better.
Even when someone else was paying, like Sadie’s mega-rich
fiancé, Sadie would order those gut churners.
Marci didn’t have to be a
beer person to know that Sadie made some poor choices in beer.

“So, Marci,”
Sadie said after she got her beer. Sadie wore a long, reddish brown dress that
looked great on her slender frame. “What happened to what’s-his-face? That you
left Tyler’s party with?”

Marci gave her
a look. “You know I don’t keep them around.”

“But that one
was crazy good looking. And you two seemed to really have a thing for each
other. Couldn’t hardly anybody come between you all night.
”

“Yeah, well.
Gone.” Marci had learned the hard way that it was better to get rid of them
before they had the chance to get rid of you.

“When you gonna
stop playing the field?”

“Maybe when I
stop being able to pull any guy I want any time.”

Sadie threw her
head back and laughed. “Now you just talking shit. I like it, though. I like
it.”

Tyler took a
long, thoughtful sip of his beer. He narrowed his eyes at Marci. Then he shifted
his gaze from Marci to Sadie and back again. A slow grin spread across his
face.

“What?” Marci
sipped her whiskey. She hadn’t eaten much all day because they’d been so busy
at the Hope Center, and her drink was going straight to her head.

“You two are
the biggest trash talkers I know,” Tyler said. “And Marci, you are just a
man-eater.”

“Well, some do
it better than others,” Marci said, laughing as Sadie pulled a face at her.
They often joked like this.

“I’m gonna let
you get away with that because I’m attached. That and I feel sorry for you,”
Sadie said. “We can’t all be the fabulous dream of every man in the room. It’s
lonely at the top, true, but I like it up here.” Sadie struck a pose, and
everyone bust out laughing.

“Oh, please,
girl,” Marci said. “I can get any man in this room to go home with me.”

“Okay, Marci,
wanna put all your big talk to the test?” Tyler asked.

“What do you
mean?”

“A friendly
wager.”

“Huh?”

“You take home
the hottest straight guy in this bar tonight,” Tyler said.

“Stakes?”

“You fail, we
get a big fat tab on you at our fave martini bar,” Tyler said, gesturing to
Sadie and Ronnie. “You win, we’ll pay your tab.”

“Deal.” Marci
nodded. “Too easy.” It was all in good fun. She didn’t mind paying a tab for
the three of them. Her neurosurgeon mother often threw guilt money at her in
place of affection. Money was never an issue. Besides, she didn’t plan on
losing. “Okay.” Marci started to walk off.

Tyler grabbed
her arm. “Wait, where you going?”

“To get the
guy,” Marci said.

“Oh, no no no.”
Tyler grinned. “We pick the guy.”

Ronnie stepped
in closer. She wore a low cut black top that night, her generous cleavage
spilling out of her push-up bra. “Oh, okay. I like this game.”

Sadie tossed
back the rest of her swill. “Hell yeah. Me, too.”

“Uh-oh,” Marci
said, but they paid her little attention as they were already scanning the bar
for her quarry.

“Ugh, there’s
no one back here. Let me get another beer, and we’ll head to the main bar.”
Tyler turned around and leaned on the bar, signaling to get his bartender
friend’s attention.

“What are those
looks you two are giving me?” Marci looked warily into Sadie and Ronnie’s
faces.

“I’m just
thinking about all those free martinis,” Ronnie said, downing the rest of her
beer. She called to Tyler, “Hey, get me another one, too!”

“He better not
be gross and no married men. Or involved men,” Marci said.

“Oh, we’ll find
you someone completely single. Don’t worry.” Sadie nodded, her ‘fro flopping as
she did.

“And what about
you? How come you don’t have to do this?” Marci asked.

“Rafe being on
another continent don’t mean I’m free to roam. Besides, you was talking the big
talk tonight,” Sadie said. “Now it’s time to walk the big walk.”

Ronnie, Tyler,
and Sadie walked Marci out to the main bar. They looked around, judging people
by their clothes, whether they “looked” single, and a whole bunch of other
spontaneously made up criteria. As they were giggling and discussing various
potentials, Marci’s eyes landed on Owen. Oh no. Not him. Why had she agreed to
go to a bar so close to campus? Why couldn’t Tyler have picked a bar downtown
or in D.C.?
Or New York for that matter?
The farther away, the better.
Maybe she could return to the
back bar before he noticed her.

She opened her
mouth to tell her friends she was heading to the back, but before she could,
Tyler said, “Him.”

She followed to
where he was pointing with her eyes, turning her head slowly, afraid to look.
He was pointing to the general direction in which she’d seen Owen standing with
an attractive, well-dressed black man who was a little shorter than Owen. Sure
enough, he was pointing to Owen. Ronnie and Sadie immediately and
enthusiastically agreed.

“Oh no,” she
said.

“Oh yes,” the
three chimed at the same time before breaking into yet another round of
giggles.

“He’s
definitely the hottest,” Tyler said. “And he looks single. And definitely straight.”

“You don’t
understand. That’s him. Owen,” Marci said.

“Owen?”
Sadie said, sounding puzzled.

“The guy who
ran her over on the bike last week,” Tyler said. Sadie nodded her
understanding.

“Ooh. That’ll
make it even more interesting,” Ronnie said.

“You can’t make
me do this.”

“Of course we
can’t. You can always admit defeat and get ready to open up that tab,” Tyler
said. “Him or no one.
Them’s
the rules.”

The tab was one
thing, but admitting defeat was something Marci didn’t do. That just wasn’t in
her DNA.

#

Grabbing
blindly to his left for Dante’s shoulder without taking his eyes off her, Owen
said, “That’s her. That’s Marci.”

But Dante
wasn’t listening. “Good. Brynn just showed up.”

Owen turned to
Dante and grabbed his shoulders. “It’s Marci,” he nearly shouted, unable to
contain his shock and excitement. “I knew I would see her again, somehow some
way. It’s fate.”

Dante rolled
his eyes. “Stop being crazy. Leave that poor woman alone and come meet someone
you might have an actual chance with. Someone you haven’t burned with her own
coffee.”

Owen started to
protest when a tall blonde walked up to them and gave Dante a hug hello. Damn.
Must be Brynn. He’d never get away now without looking like a rude crazy
person. He’d keep one eye on Marci, though. If she left the bar, he would run
after her, whether he looked rude and crazy or not. He wasn’t going to lose her
again.

“Brynn, this is
Owen, my friend I was telling you about. Owen, Brynn.” Dante made the
introductions. Owen shook hands with the blue-eyed blonde. Dante had been right
about the Nordic thing. She was almost his height, and that was a rare thing to
run across because he was six-foot-four. She was
gorgeous
as Dante had promised. Maybe a little too thin for his tastes, but she was
definitely striking. But Owen was distracted. He kept looking for Marci out of
the corner of his eye even as Brynn started to talk to him.

“Isn’t this a
nice bar?” Brynn leaned closer. She must have thought he was having such a hard
time answering because he couldn’t hear in the noisy crowded atmosphere of The
Hops. He caught the scent of something sweet whenever she leaned in close.
Cake or vanilla or something.
He remembered how the girls in
high school had worn enough vanilla to make him gag. It had been overpowering.
Cloying.

“Yeah. It’s
great.” Owen smiled. “So what do you do? You a student at CVU?” He made an
effort to be nice, but he found it hard to focus on their conversation. He was
worried about losing track of Marci in the thick crush of bodies that was the
usual Saturday night crowd at The Hops.

“No, I
graduated last year actually. Dante and I are working on a project we hope will
turn into a business partnership.”

“Oh. That’s
nice.” He couldn’t keep up with his roommate’s crazy entrepreneurial schemes.
He vaguely wondered what their project was, but he had more important things on
his mind than asking right now. He glanced over his shoulder in what he hoped
was a casual way to track Marci on the other side of the bar. He did a
double-take
. She wasn’t there. Where had she gone?

#

“Look,” Marci
said. “He’s talking to someone.” She gestured to the tall blonde woman.
“Taken,” she said in a
sing-song
voice.

“Not so fast,”
Tyler said in a similar tone. “She hugged the friend, but she only shook Owen’s
hand. And look how awkward they are. Bet you anything the friend is trying to
set them up.”

“And you want
me to interrupt that?”

“Or lose the
bet. Completely up to you.”

Marci handed
Tyler her empty glass. “I gotta pee.”

“And then?”

“And then we’ll
see.” Marci sauntered off in the direction of the restroom. Maybe she could
escape through a window in there like in the movies.
Not that
Owen wasn’t cute.
He just wasn’t a good idea. Even if the coffee thing
hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t be a good idea. In the brief time she’d known him,
he’d been so…unassuming. Those were the dangerous kind.