4. Iris
4
IRIS
“Wait. Wait. Wait,” Sandy says, placing her coffee mug back on the table as she leans forward. “Let me get this straight. You were stranded in a snowstorm and stayed the night at his place and didn’t do it?”
“It wasn’t his place,” I explain again. “It was an extra apartment his sister has above her tattoo shop, and no, we did not do it.”
“Was he bad-looking?” Mikayla asks.
“No. He was probably the best-looking man I’ve ever seen. He’s way out of my league and I’d bet he’s broken a lot of hearts, and there was no way I’d add myself to that list.”
“Having sex with someone doesn’t mean you’d get a broken heart,” Mikayla explains with an eye roll. “You can get laid and then never see him again. Lord knows you could use an orgasm. ”
“I have plenty of orgasms,” I tell her, lifting my chin slightly.
“I’m not talking about masturbating, I.”
“It gets the job done.”
Mikayla folds over, placing her head on the table, and mutters something about me being a moron. “Ridiculous,” she says a little more clearly before straightening and staring at me in disbelief. “You had the perfect chance.”
“Did you get his number?” Sandy asks. “Please say you at least have that.”
I shake my head.
Sandy and Mikayla groan in unison.
Sandy lifts a finger. “But you know where he works.”
“Um,” I mumble, already knowing where they’re going to go with this. We’ve been friends since middle school, and I know them probably better than I know myself. “Yeah.”
“You need to go back.”
I widen my eyes. “No.”
“Yes,” Mikayla says with a devilish grin.
I let out a loud sigh. I wish I were the type of girl who would put her pride and heart on the line to go after someone I wanted, but my past has made sure any sliver of that person is gone forever. “I’m not going back. He didn’t ask for my number either. If he were interested, he would’ve asked for it. I’m not going to embarrass myself by going back to the bar to see him. How mortifying.”
“Babe, you need to go after the things you want,” Mikayla tells me. She is never afraid to chase anything, including men.
“I didn’t want the original date you set me up on. I’m just not ready yet.”
“No one said you need to fall in love with him,” Sandy says, like it’s so simple not to catch feelings for someone.
“He was nice to talk to in a pinch and even better to look at, but I think it’s best if he stays behind me.”
“So, are you going to start dating casually again?” Mikayla asks.
The thought of dating makes my skin break out in hives and has me immediately scratching myself. “No. Not yet.”
“How many years is it going to take?” Sandy asks as she stares at her phone. “Oh. Wait. I found another winner.” She turns her phone screen toward me and then flips it toward Mikayla. “Look at this one.”
“Damn. He’s hot,” Mikayla replies.
I have no response.
I didn’t even focus my eyes on the screen before she moved it away. I don’t want to look. I’m not interested in hooking up with men on dating apps. They aren’t serious about love, relationships, or monogamy. No one can convince me that dating apps are anything except a tool to find people for sex .
“I swear your cooch is broken,” Sandy teases me. “It’s not like Lucas was even a good lay.”
I blink a few times, hating the sound of his name coming out of her mouth. Not because her words are a lie, but I do my best not to think about him every day—or, at least, not more than once. “He wasn’t the worst.”
“Darling, I love you more than anyone,” Sandy starts to say.
“Hey,” Mikayla interrupts. “What about me?”
“You two bitches are my favorite people in the world. I’m not going to get into an argument about who I love more because it’s a freaking tie.”
“Whatever,” Mikayla mutters and goes back to sipping her coffee.
“But to say he wasn’t the worst isn’t saying anything good. The man had a penis so small I’m surprised you could find it with a magnifying glass.”
I regret telling them about his body. Maybe I knew we were never going to make it down the aisle and that’s why I told them his biggest insecurity. I would’ve married him even without a decent-size dick. Sex isn’t the most important thing in life…is it?
“You deserve to find someone who’s going to make you walk funny the next day,” Sandy says.
I stare at her for a minute. “That isn’t real.”
Sandy slaps her hands on the table and gasps. “Are you shitting me?”
Mikayla slides her hand on top of mine. “Baby, it’s very real and, also, very sad that you don’t know it is. Things need to change in your life. Someday, you’ll be old, and when you look back on this time, I don’t want you to waste your youth and that hot body you’ve got grieving over some guy who wasn’t worth it. It’s time to use it before you lose it, mama.”
“What’s the name of the bar again?” Sandy asks.
“Hook & Hustle.”
Her fingers are moving fast against her phone screen. “Found it,” she says, and a sense of dread settles deep in my belly.
“What are you doing?” I ask her, trying to grab her phone, but she’s too fast for me.
“Oh. My. God. Is this him?” she asks, turning the screen toward me.
I stare at the picture, seeing Brax standing behind the bar, looking every bit as handsome as he did last night. “Yeah, but don’t you dare do anything.”
“I think we need to have a drink there one night this week.”
“No,” I say quickly.
“Yes,” Mikayla says.
Sandy’s smile is so damn big I want to smack it off her cute face. “Just a beer or two. If nothing happens or he doesn’t ask for your number, we’ll drop it forever and forget he exists. But if he?—”
“He won’t,” I interrupt. “Trust me.”
“Oh. He will,” Mikayla says, taking the phone from Sandy. “Damn. That man is fine, and I bet his pecker isn’t tiny either.”
“You two are the worst.” I shake my head, but they are right.
He didn’t look like he had a tiny pecker, and if my memory serves me right from this morning, the tent in his pants when he was sleeping on the couch gave me proof.
I may have watched him a little too long as I sipped my coffee and ate cupcakes. I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t as if I would ever eat them in the bedroom, and it was on full display, begging for me to look.
“A few drinks and then he’s in the past?” I ask them, making sure we are all on the same page.
Sandy gives me her best innocent look and blinks her big doe eyes rapidly. “I swear.”
“Scout’s honor,” Mikayla says with two fingers in the air.
“When were you a Scout?” I ask.
“Never,” she says with a chuckle. “But it sounded good, right?”
I scrub my hands up and down my face with a soft groan. “Can we not?” I ask them, glancing between the two of them.
“We must,” Mikayla says.
Sandy motions toward Mikayla. “I agree with her.”
“This may be the worst idea you two have ever had. ”
“Not if it gets you the hot guy,” Sandy says, like it’s going to be that easy.
If Brax were interested in me, he would’ve asked for my number, right? I mean, that would seem like the way the events would’ve happened. I don’t have a ton of dating experience—definitely not as much as Mikayla or Sandy—but even with my limited knowledge, I think I would’ve known if he was interested, and he clearly was not.
“I’m not ready.”
“Will you ever be?” Sandy asks point-blank.
I sigh again. “I don’t know.”
“You’re annoying me,” Mikayla adds.
“Hell, I annoy myself,” I tell her.
They chuckle as Mikayla pats my hand again. “It’s time to stop grieving what could’ve been and start getting excited about what will be.”
“You’re so wise,” Sandy tells her with an approving smile.
Mikayla gives her a half bow. “I’m tapping my inner love goddess.”
“You two are ridiculous,” I mutter.
“You won’t be thinking that when you’re underneath that hottie, screaming out his name in pleasure.”
I let my thoughts drift to what she described. Sex with Lucas was nothing like that. It was a quiet affair. Missionary was always his preferred position, and I didn’t have a problem with that. Did he give me orgasms that had me screaming his name? Yes and no. He was successful in getting me to climax using his hands and mouth when I was able to concentrate fully. But they were never mind-blowing enough to have me screaming in pleasure.
I don’t even know what Lucas would’ve done if I’d done that. The man was silent from start to finish. I barely knew when he was done. He’d just roll off and gasp for air.
Did he ask if I had an orgasm when he was done? No. Never.
But I never pushed him because I was happy the deed was over. Sex wasn’t awful, but it wasn’t something I looked forward to with him either.
“When should we go?” Sandy asks. “Tonight?”
“No. The city’s still a mess from the storm,” Mikayla answers.
“Not tonight. I was just with him this morning.”
“Friday night, then. We’re not putting this off any later,” Sandy tells me.
“Fine,” I grumble under my breath before straightening my back in the wooden chair. “Friday night it is, and then, he’s in my past forever.”
“What do you know about him?” Mikayla asks as she starts to tear apart her cheese Danish that looks like someone stepped on it because it’s so flat.
“His stepmom owns the bakery next to the bar.”
“Goodness. The man keeps getting better and better. I would kill to have someone in my family who owns a bakery.” Mikayla takes a bite of the unfluffy pastry. “It has to be better than this garbage.”
My gaze dips to the Danish. “It was the best bakery I’ve ever eaten at.”
“He’s getting bonus points,” Sandy says. “And we need to go to the bakery too.”
“It’s not open at night.”
“Damn,” she whispers. “Another time, then.”
“What else?” Mikayla asks.
“His sister owns the tattoo shop, Inked Southside or something like that, across the street. It was her spare apartment I slept in.”
Mikayla shakes her head. “Can you imagine having a spare apartment?”
“Not on my salary,” Sandy says.
“And she’s a tattoo artist? This family sounds amazing.”
“And he’s a bartender?” Sandy asks.
“His family owns the bar,” I explain.
“Do they own the entire damn block?” Mikayla asks, staring at me in disbelief.
I shrug. “I have no idea.”
“If you don’t marry him, I will,” Sandy teases me.
“Maybe the sister is a total bitch,” Mikayla tells her.
“No, she’s nice. She was at the bar, and I met her. She’s the one who offered the apartment to me.”
I could see being friends with her. We didn’t talk much, but she was totally my type of person. She’d easily fit in with Sandy and Mikayla too.
“And her husband,” I say and then whistle. “He was something else.”
“How did you meet him?” Mikayla asks.
“He came to walk her home.”
Sandy fans herself. “I would die for a man like that.”
“He was covered in tattoos.”
“You saw his entire body?” Sandy was quick to ask.
“No, but from what I could see on his hands and neck…I’m sure they were all over underneath his coat and clothes.”
Mikayla sighs. “He’s a dreamboat. Where do I order myself one of those?”
I shrug. “Hell if I know.”
“Not online. I’ve looked. They’re sold out,” Sandy says with a giggle.
“So, he has a cool sister and a hot brother-in-law, his mom makes the best pastry in town, and his family owns a bar. Plus, let’s not forget, he’s hot and built. Sounds like the worst type of guy to date.” Mikayla stares at me, and I stare back.
“I know. I know. He sounds like the total package, but he’s still single, and at our age, that means something is wrong.”
Mikayla smacks my hand this time. “Bitch, we’re all single. There’s nothing wrong with us. ”
“Lala, you are kind of a nympho,” Sandy tells her, lifting her hands. “That’s a hard sell when it comes to being wife material.”
“What man wouldn’t want a woman who wants to have sex every single day?” she asks Sandy.
“Clearly, they’re not trampling each other to make it happen,” Sandy replies.
“What about you?” Mikayla says back to Sandy. “You’re a clean freak and scare off every man who isn’t as tidy as you.”
“I like things how I like things.” Sandy shrugs. “I won’t live in filth just to have a ring on my finger. I’m picky.”
Mikayla rolls her eyes. “You wash your sheets every day.”
Sandy tilts her head, giving Mikayla a pointed stare. “And?”
“It’s not normal,” Mikayla replies.
“It’s my normal.” Sandy gives Mikayla the middle finger before grabbing her coffee, trying not to get into her obsessive need to clean. “I’m not forcing you to wash your sheets every day.”
“If mine make it into the washing machine once every two weeks, it’s a miracle,” Mikayla tells her.
Sandy wrinkles her nose. “That’s gross.”
“You two are something else,” I say.
“How often do you wash your sheets?” Sandy asks, wanting my vindication .
“Every weekend.”
“That’s normal,” Mikayla says, “and impressive.”
“Maybe Mr. Romeo doesn’t wash his sheets ever, and that’s why he hasn’t found a wife,” Sandy explains. “Any sane woman would run the other way after getting one whiff.”
“His name is Brax,” I correct her.
“Brax doesn’t look smelly,” she says as she enlarges his picture standing behind the bar, because she never scrolled away from it. “Does he?” That question is pointed at Mikayla.
Mikayla leans over, glancing down at the photo. “No. He looks like he’d wake up smelling like pine and man.”
I roll my eyes. “What is wrong with you?”
“Too many things to get into right now.” Mikayla winks at me. “But there are some guys who look smelly and are smelly. You know what I mean?”
“No.” My friends are so damn quirky, and I love them for it most times, but this isn’t one of them.
“Totally like pine and man. Maybe with a hint of bourbon too,” Sandy adds, ignoring me.
“I’m going to smell him on Friday,” Mikayla says. “But I’ll be quick so he doesn’t notice I’m doing it.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, resting my forehead in my hand, wishing I could take back agreeing to go back to the bar to see him. “You two are crazier than I ever realized. ”
“You have no idea,” Sandy says, giving me a cute little wink when I lift my head and look in her direction. “But you will.”