Chapter 9
Chapter 9
As I walked up the stairs of my apartment building, I could still feel Nash’s lips on mine. It was the perfect end to the perfect evening with the perfect guy. How had I managed to find him, Bailey had asked? Right now, I had no idea, but I was deeply thankful I had. Not only was he everything I could hope for, he got me, meeting my commitment-phobia head on. Maybe Paige was right? Maybe there was one perfect guy out there for all of us, just waiting to be found.
And a small voice inside of me told me I’d found mine.
As I rounded the corner, I could hear a TV blaring from one of the apartments above. I walked up the final flight and realized with a shock the noise was coming from my own apartment, and not only that, there were loud voices added to the TV din.
I unlocked my front door and pushed the door open to be met with the sight of my brother and three other guys sprawled over my beautiful furniture, drinking and talking loudly over the top of a rugby match being played on the big screen TV.
I let the door slam behind me, but no one even noticed. They were too engrossed in their drunken banter—which completely lacked in wit, despite the fact they laughed at what each other said. I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter and walked over to them. Still unnoticed, I picked up the remote and switched the TV off. That got their attention. They all turned with a start to look at me.
“Oh, hey, sis! Everyone, this is my little sis,” Ryan slurred from his spot on the sofa—the very spot he was in when I had gone out on my date five hours ago. I wondered how he had managed to get all the takeout and collect three drunken friends without moving.
“What’s going on, Ryan?” I asked, my hands on my hips like I was , scolding her naughty son. Which is exactly how I felt, only Ryan was my big brother and had always been Mr. Golden Child in that highly responsible and successful way firstborn offspring often are.
“Hanging with these guys,” he replied, gesturing to the motley collection of men currently messing up my once pristine living room. “Hey, do you want a drink? We’ve got beers, right, guys?”
“Yeah!” one of them replied with gusto. He was half sitting and half lying across one of my armchairs, his feet dangling down the side. His T-shirt didn’t quite cover his midriff, and I caught sight of his pale, hairy belly poking out the bottom.
I shot him a dirty look and returned my attention to my brother. “Ryan? A word?” I asked, my voice like steel.
“Sure. What is it?” he asked, taking another swig of his beer. Half of the drink missed his mouth and instead ran down his chin and onto his T-shirt, leaving a growing wet patch across his chest. It was as disgusting as it sounded.
I looked around the room at the men. They all appeared to be as inebriated as Ryan; a large collection of empty bottles scattered across the floor. One of them looked like he might have nodded off to sleep, lounging on the sofa next to Ryan. There was even a pair of dirty socks slung across one of my lampshades. What had they been doing for socks to land there? I decided I didn’t want to know. I pursed my lips. “I’d like to speak to you alone, please.”
“Anything you have to say can be said in front of my crew, right, guys?” Ryan replied.
“Yeah!” Hairy Gut Guy repeated—until he looked up at me. “I mean, that’s fine with me.” He shot me a weak smile. I didn’t return it.
“All right, then. I want you all to leave. Now.”
“But, sis,” Ryan whined.
“No buts! Just do it!”
I really do sound like .
“All right, guys, I guess we should call it a night,” Hairy Gut Guy said, shooting me an apologetic look. Maybe he thought by helping me out I wouldn’t kill him? I was still undecided.
“Thank you,” I said, mustering as much control as I could manage.
Finally, once the men had gone and it was just Ryan and me, filling the recycling bins with empty bottles and pizza boxes, I asked him what he had been thinking, bringing those gross men into my home.
“I thought you’d be happy.”
“On what planet would I be happy that you and your he-men friends messed up my living room? I mean,” I added, pointing to a splotch of something unidentifiable on one of my armchairs, “look at this! It’s ruined.”
“I meant because I wasn’t just sitting around, feeling sorry for myself.”
I stood up straight and looked at him. “Oh.” I felt bad. Ryan had been in such a funk over his relationship breakup, it hadn’t occurred to me that this evening was some sort of progress for him. “Sorry.”
He slumped down onto one of the armchairs, landed on an empty bottle, pulled it out from underneath himself, and dropped it into the bin. He let out a sigh. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“You do?” I asked, crouching down next to him and trying not to breathe in his scent, a combination of pepperoni pizza, garlic bread, and stale beer. Ugh .
“‘Getting wasted isn’t the answer,’” he said with air quotes. “But you know what, sis? Sometimes it is the answer.”
I noticed tears welling in his eyes and it got me, right in the heart. Ryan was my older brother, I don’t remember the last time I saw him cry. He had always been strong and stoical, his life under control, with him in the driver’s seat. Not . . . this.
Despite his stench, I hugged him in close. “Maybe you’re right,” I said softly, wishing I could take his hurt away for him.
I found a box of tissues, obscured by a banana peel (really?), and handed him a wad. He took them and wiped his eyes in the way guys do, like they’re angry with their face. Women dab, men scrape. On this score, I was more than happy to be a woman.
“Did something happen?” I asked once he was more composed. Ryan had been more than a little maudlin since he arrived, but he hadn’t been hitting the bottle—or bottles, as was the case tonight.
He studied his hands for a long time, then glanced up at me, and back down again. “Amelia’s seeing someone else.”
“What?” I screeched. Clearing my throat, I said in a calmer voice, “I mean, so soon? She’s not hanging around.” Ryan and Amelia had only broken up a matter of about a month ago. For her to have moved on this quickly seemed more than a little suspicious to me. Maybe she’d developed feelings for someone else while she was still with Ryan? Or, worse yet, maybe she’d even had an affair .
“Yeah,” he replied glumly.
“Are you sure? I mean, how do you know?”
“Greg saw her with some guy last night at a bar.”
“He might have been a work colleague?” I suggested.
“They were kissing.”
“Ah.” Not a work colleague, then. Or at least, not the type of work colleague I had.
I rubbed his forearm. “I’m sorry, Ryan. That really sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Anyway, enough about me and my crap life. How was your date?”
I thought of Nash, and I couldn’t help a smile spreading across my face. “It was nice.”
“This was with the dog guy, right?”
“Nash, yes. But he’s more than just ‘the dog guy.’ He’s smart and kind and fun. He did this picnic for us, and it was so romantic.” I let out a contented sigh.
“Sounds like someone’s smitten.”
I shrugged, a few butterflies batting their wings inside at the thought. “Maybe.” I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “And I know what you’re going to say: ‘it’ll end in heartbreak.’ But I’ve decided to give it a shot anyway.”
And I had. For better or for worse, as the saying goes.
“Good for you.”
“What? No ‘love is for wimps,’ no ‘it’s doomed from the start,’ no ‘it’s all a waste of time’?” I replied, quoting a few of Ryan’s favorite current sayings.
Really, he’d been a wonderful roommate to have around.
Ryan managed a short-lived smile as he knitted his eyebrows together. “It’s love, is it?”
I could feel a blush form on my cheeks as my heart beat in my ears. Love ? Was he certifiably insane ? “Oh, it’s far too early to say. This was only our third date.”
“Well, that’s two more dates with the same guy than you usually manage,” he replied, pushing himself up off the sofa to a standing position. “Woah,” he muttered, grabbing onto the arm of the chair. “Make the room stop spinning, would you?”
I took him by the arm and led him to the bathroom. “Go, wash up. I’ll get the sofa bed ready for you. And a large glass of water.”
He leaned up against the bathroom door frame. “You know it’s doomed.”
“Yeah, sure.” I smiled at him.
I waited until he was in the bathroom and had closed the door before I set about getting my living room back to the way it should look and making up Ryan’s bed for him. My big brother may be bitter and twisted, but I had a new-found seed of hope inside of me.
I was beginning to believe in love again, and this time, I wanted my happily ever after.
Monday morning rolled around and I was sitting at our usual table by the window at the Cozy Cottage Café with Cassie, when Bailey arrived to deliver our morning treats.
“A slice of flourless raspberry and chocolate cake for you,” Bailey said, placing the cake in front of Cassie, “and a slice of orange and almond syrup cake for you.”
“Thanks,” we both said, smiling up at her.
“I’ll be right back with your coffees,” Bailey added.
“Then, you can help me quiz Marissa on her third date with Nash,” Cassie said with a smirk.
After I’d informed the girls of my second date success with Nash at Alessandro’s, they made me promise to give them a full debrief after Saturday night’s big date. Although I intended to keep some of the more personal details to myself, I was as eager as a child at Christmas to tell them how it went.
Bailey raised her eyebrows, her eyes wide. “Third? Oh, this I want to hear. Don’t you dare start until I’m back.”
I shook my head, grinning, warmth spreading through my belly. “I won’t, I promise.”
I turned to Cassie. “I guess we’ll have to talk work, then.”
“Actually, I’m interested to know what you think of Antoinette? You know, I can’t say her name without imagining her with her head chopped off.”
I let out a giggle. “Poor girl. You can’t blame her for her name.”
“True. So, how is she?”
“You know, I think she’s all right. She’s eager to learn and really quite sweet. With the right training, she might just shape up to be an asset to the team”
“That’s great to hear. I’ve had my doubts. Are you happy to have her tag along on a few more of your meetings this week?”
Thanks to Nash—who I had been texting up a flirtatious storm with since our last date—I was in a generous mood. “Sure, why not?”
“Did I miss anything?” Bailey said as she placed our cups of coffee in front of us.
“Nothing,” Cassie replied.
“Good, because I only have a few moments and Paige made me promise to report everything back in full.”
I looked over at the counter, where Paige and Sophie were busy serving customers. I caught Paige’s eye and gave her the thumbs-up. She beamed back at me, clearly getting the message my date went well, before returning her attention to the task at hand.
“So?” Bailey led.
My face broke into a smile the size of Texas. “It was perfect.”
“Perfect?” Cassie asked, her eyes huge as Bailey put her hand on her heart and sighed.
I nodded. “Yes. He picked me up, and we went to his house first where I got to meet the most adorable puppies I’ve ever seen.”
“Puppies? I love puppies,” Bailey gushed.
I chuckled. “Who doesn’t?”
“What type were they?”
“Nash said they weren’t one hundred percent sure, but the mother is an abandoned German Shepherd.”
“Were they all squishy and wriggly and lick-y and cute?” Bailey asked.
“Oh, my, yes! Super, super cute. You’ll have to come see them, Bailey, you would die.”
“Hey, you two,” Cassie said, her hands in the “stop” sign. “Can we focus on the actual date here? I have a meeting shortly, and Marissa has a lot of work to do.”
“Sorry. Okay, as I said, the date started when I met the puppies and it was all good.”
“You’re completely over Slobbergate, then?” Bailey asked.
“I am,” I replied with a smile. “Then, get this, he’d packed a picnic basket with a blanket and pillows and yummy food, and we went to Mission Bay where we sat together, watching the sun set, talking. It was wonderful,” I said with a smile. “Well, other than Nash’s dancing. He dances like Carlton.”
“Carlton?” Cassie questioned.
“You know, from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air ?”
“Oh. That’s not good,” Cassie replied, shaking her head.
“No, but you know what? In the past, that kind of thing would have had me running for the hills. Literally. But now?” I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I still want to date him.”
Cassie sat back in her seat, sizing me up. “Marissa Jones: all grown up.”
I let out a light laugh. She was right, I had grown up. I wanted to be with Nash—I was going to do my best to make it work.
“You see? Right there. That look on your face. That’s what I want,” Bailey said.
“She’s fallen for him, that’s for sure,” Cassie said, grinning at me.
“Oh, I don’t know about that yet. It’s early days,” I protested, even though I knew it myself. I slid my fork into my cake and took a bite, hoping to deflect attention from me. “Bailey, this is extra good today.”
“It’s because you’re in lurve ,” Cassie teased. “Everything seems better.”
I shot her a look. I turned to Bailey and asked, “Have you ever tried speed dating?”
“Speed dating?” Bailey guffawed. “No!”
“Isn’t that a bit nineties?” Cassie asked.
“I guess. I saw an advertisement for a speed dating night at O’Dowd’s.” I thought back to my date at the bar with Blaze. Wow, that felt so long ago. “I thought of you, now that you’re looking for your Last First Date, too.”
“I’m not sure it’s really my style,” Bailey replied, looking dubious.
“Actually, I think it’s perfect,” Cassie said, leaning forward in her chair. “Think about it, Bailey. That way, you can date any number of guys, all in one evening.”
“Maybe,” she replied noncommittally. “Anyway, now that I have all the date gossip, I think I’d better get back to it. I’m sure Paige and Sophie need my help.” She stood up and slipped her chair under our table. “I’m really happy for you, Marissa. You deserve this.”
I beamed at her. What had started out as a knee-jerk reaction to Eddie’s engagement announcement had turned into something so much more.
And I couldn’t wait to see where it went.