Tangling Hearts

2. Brendan

Chapter Two

brENDAN

Earlier That Day

S an Francisco. Age: twenty-five. Five years before Mark meets his future wife and everything changes. Coffee: cold. Coffee shop: rife with gorgeous chicks to plunder.

“ Y ou hooked up with an older woman, huh? Nicely done. How was it?” Mark leans back and eyes a hot brunette whose breasts shimmy in time with her strut. “Mmm.” Both of us scan her.

“Incredible.” A growing line for lattes blocks our vision. We turn back to each other. Reluctantly.

Mark takes a healthy slug from his coffee. “So… how was it?”

My mouth turns up at the memory of the best blowjob I’ve ever had. “I just said it was incredible.”

Mark laughs. “I thought you were talking about jiggles. Well, I’m glad you finally climbed the joy ride and joined the team. How you stayed with only one girl all through college is beyond me.” He looks back to see if the view has improved, but there’re still too many people and he looks back to me. Reluctantly. “What was her name?”

“Rebecca. Rebecca…I don’t know her last name.” This hits me hard. “Wow.”

Mark touches his tongue to his teeth and smirks. “So you go from Boyfriend Of The Year to hooking up with a cougar whose last name you never even got?” He whistles. “I like the new you, B-man. I like it a lot.”

This makes me sit up straighter. Not really, because we’re both slouching as we should. But in my head? I’m standing tall. I’ve looked up to Mark in more ways than literally just his height. He is taller than my six-foot-one inch frame by a few inches, but it’s not just that. He’s also great at numbers, computer programming, speaking to strangers, gathering the respect of pretty much everyone. And women, they drop their skirts before he even says hello. The guy is a god.

There were a ton of stunners at San Francisco State and not one of ‘em could hold his attention for more than a month. He’s my new role model. Following his lead will rip away the last remaining sentimentality I have for the fairer sex once and for all. Good plan, good plan. I’m glad he met me today and hadn’t given up on me. It’s no wonder he’s stoked. He’s been trying to break me down for years. I am never – and I mean never – going to let another woman under my skin. She can nibble and suck on it all she wants, but she’s not getting under it no matter how beautiful she is.

I’m ready for unattached, unbridled fun. And who knows fun better than Mark? No one. If Mark ever settles down, I will keel over from shock.

I rake my fingers through my wavy hair and look out the window. “Yeah, well, I had to get rid of Sara first. That bitch had to go.” Even though she broke my heart, it hurts a little to call her that out loud. Or maybe this ache in my stomach is just a hangover from having drunk too much booze last night. Alone. Mark doesn’t say anything. I wait for a response and none comes so I turn my head and meet his skeptical eyes. “What?”

He waits a second. Decides if he wants to remind me how much I fell all over Sara during my entire college education, even the first year when she was still in high school and I had to deal with her fucking curfew. He probably wants to tease me about how I never let anyone say a bad word about her even when she was rude and snobby, which she more than sometimes was. How I’m calling her bitch now because I’m heartbroken. I really don’t feel like talking about her or the ring I still have to refund. Leave it alone, Mark. Just drop it. But he’s no mind reader.

He purses his lips and opens his stupid mouth anyway. “You okay?”

My eyebrows twist up the middle of my forehead and my eyes go ice-cold blue. “Are we going to have a moment? Should I break out a violin? She cheated on me. You saw it coming. I didn’t. I’m over it.”

“It ended two weeks ago.”

“It ended a year ago when she moved away. I just didn’t know it ended. So I had plenty of time to get over her, because she wasn’t really here anyway. You want me to cry on your shoulder?”

He concentrates on me and says nothing for an uncomfortable amount of time. I glare at him, challenging him to push the sword in deeper. Slowly, he brings his hand up and pats his own shoulder. “Come to papa. Let it all out.”

Smiling, I look away. “Shut it.” Sipping the end of my cold, weak, coffee while he picks up the paper to read the business section, I stare out the window some more. Passing locals soon blur me into a trance and a sneaky flash of not Sara, but Rebecca sleeping next to me last weekend in Mendocino, creeps in without my noticing. The way her hair fanned out in dark sheets on the pillow. How her mouth was open and the light sounds that came out of it. How one beautiful rosy nipple was exposed, laid bare thanks to a pushed-down corner of the quilt. A smile starts spreading on my lips.

Stop it, Brendan. I shove it back down in the depths of hell it came from. I know that she’s just like them all – she showed me that. I’d stared at her a little too long before I’d left, though. The moonlight from the windows made me stay.

Fuck! The old me is still clinging on like he wants me to get my heart crushed a few thousand more times before I learn. Well, screw that faster than a whore on prom night. I can’t take the kind of emptiness that comes from getting attached and having it not work out. Not again.

“You know what I think?”

Sucked into an interesting article, Mark doesn’t look up. “Mmm?”

“I think we’re going to make a good wing-man team. We cover both bases. I’m Black Irish, dark hair, and blue eyes. I’m normal height. You’re tall as a mountain and you’ve got that golden skin, hair and eyes thing going for you. Between the two of us, we offer whatever suits their taste. We can take it all, if we work together.”

Mark looks up halfway through my speech, very amused. After I finish, he says, “You’ve given this some thought.”

“Just now, yeah.” I lean back in the chair, legs spread out and my hand resting just below my crotch. “A blinding flash of inspiration comes when things are meant to be.”

Mark looks back at the paper. “I’m in.”

I stare, taking in his answer. Holy shit. It’s on! I’ve got the King Of Pussy to lead the way! A new life full of tits, ass, and zero commitment! I grab his newspaper with a big laugh. “We are going to kill it!” I crinkle it up in an extremely tight little wad and throw it at the ceiling.

Mark grins and slouches against the backrest. “I feel sorry for them already. You should move in with me, too.”

I didn’t see that coming. I lean back in my chair, cock my head to the side. “What about Greg?” Greg’s been Mark’s roommate all through college, the yin to Mark’s yang. Greg is quiet, introverted, serious. Not at all a ladies man, but Mark brought pretty women home and Greg was so happy about it, he never griped about the late hours or the sexual noises coming through the walls at all hours. “It seemed like the perfect scenario. Why give that up?”

“Greg’s moving in with Diana. Bought her a ring and everything.” Mark shakes his head. Marriage, the noose none of us want to fall into.

“Diana Cross? How’d they hook up?” Mark points a thumb at his chest. “Ah. Wow. Diana and Greg. I can’t really see it; Diana’s hot. Hey, wait… didn’t you hook up with her?”

“Oh yeah! Lots of times. But she wanted something I couldn’t give her.”

I smirk and scratch an itch on my chest. “Monogamy.”

“You got it. So, you want his room?”

It takes me a second to answer because moving in with Mark means leaving the place Sara and I got together. She hasn’t been in there for a year, except when she came back to visit, but it’s always been ours in my mind. I’m taken aback by the fear of leaving all of it behind, but the fear is definitely there. “Let me think about it.”

I can see Mark understands why I’m hesitating. He picks up his coffee cup and goes to chuck it in the trash. “I can always offer it to Tommy.”

The instant I picture Tommy taking my place, I know I’m on the edge of being shut out. Tommy already has been closer to Mark than me. Plus he’s an asshole. I don’t want him blocking my new life. I pick up my coffee cup that’s been emptied out already, and pretend to drink the last sip just so that I come off appearing nonchalant. “Fuck that. I’ll take it.”

Mark sees more than I think. He nods. “Good.” He picks up the rest of the paper – the part I didn’t send to the ceiling – and hands it off. “You want this?”

A woman in her early thirties with a corporate vibe and a permanent frown line, smiles at him. She gratefully takes it. “Sure. Thank you.”

“No problem,” he smiles. He holds her look just long enough to give her hope. “Have a good day. I like your blouse. Matches those pretty eyes of yours.”

Really pleased, she smiles and touches it. “Thank you.”

He walks back to me like he didn’t just make her day. He does this stuff and always acts like it’s nothing.

I stand and we head for the door. “Why do you do that when I know you’re not going hook up with her?”

“Who says I wouldn’t?” I raise an eyebrow and he laughs. “Nothing wrong with brightening up someone’s day.

I make a mental note of this. “When’s Greg moving out? Or is he already gone?”

“Oh, he’s gone alright.” He means metaphorically, and walks out the door with me following him out onto the sidewalk. “He’s moving out today. What is it – Saturday? You could move in tomorrow if you want. Or whenever. He doesn’t have a whole hell of a lot to remove.”

“Wait a minute. He’s moving out today?”

“Yeah?” Mark side eyeballs me like what’s the big deal?

A couple of hippy granola-eaters pass by, taking up massive amounts of sidewalk. I move out of their way, holding my breath to avoid the Patchouli oil. As soon as I can breathe again, I ask, “How were you going to cover his half of the rent until you found someone?”

Mark shrugs, the sunlight catching in his eyes and making them look pretty cool. I idolize the guy. Sue me. I’ll never tell Mark I look up to him. That would take the kind of conversation we guys don’t have. Women compliment each other all day long – but we don’t. Because then we’d be girls.

He hits me on the shoulder, a knowing look in his eyes. “I wasn’t going to. You were. Come over whenever you’re ready.”

Totally sideswiped, I watch him walk off, a slow smile spreading on my lips. “You’re so fucking smart, aren’t you, Mark?” I call after him.

He raises a hand up and yells back without turning around, “You know I am!”

“Fucking guy,” I mutter to myself, feeling good, like I’m looked after, like I’ve got back up. I don’t have to do this whole getting over my ex and starting a new life thing on my own.

Back at my place, I open the door and look around with new eyes. Evidence of Sara is everywhere. She’s off with that fuckhead who stole her, and here I am with all of her things mixed in with mine like I’m some dweeb who doesn’t matter. Most of this stuff belongs to both of us and I don’t know what to do with it. Sitting on our couch, I pick up one of her stupid flower pillows, remembering the day we began our downhill trek.