8. Austin
CHAPTER 8
Austin
“ I have to ask again.” I place my beer on the bartop and look over at Mia. “Why are we on a second date?”
“Well…” Her shoulders sag with the long sigh she lets out. “I guess it’s more of a friend date. I could really use some advice.” Her expression looks desperate, a far cry from her polished exterior.
“From a stranger?” I crook my brow curiously. “A man stranger?”
“I know.” She laughs, shaking her head, clearly aware how awkward it sounds. “Maybe I just want to be able to speak freely about this breakup and not be judged.”
“Who says I’m not judging?”
“You can’t; you’re too scared to make a move on that woman you said you were in love with.”
“True.” I hang my head, my thoughts instantly fixated on what Taylor is up to right now. “Okay then.” I attempt to regain focus. “What’s the advice you need?”
“Do you think I’m wasting my time—waiting for this guy, I mean? I know I explained a little about things during our first date, but the reality is, there wasn’t a reason for the breakup other than he just felt he needed some time to himself.”
“Time to himself?”
She nods. “Like just to get his head straight and decide what the next steps were for his life.” My eyes drop from hers. “Because we’ve been together for so long. We started dating when we were sixteen, met at fifteen—high school sweethearts.” She smiles, and an uncomfortable know forms in my stomach. “Which is a really long time when you think about it, already twelve years and we aren’t even married yet.”
“Yeah.” I try to sound enthusiastic, but her smile begins to fade.
“You think it’s hopeless, don’t you?” Her eyes fill with tears instantly.
“Whoa, whoa.” I hold up my hand. “I didn’t say that. Just take it easy,” I say, trying to calm her but at the same time, I’m not an idiot and neither is she. A man doesn’t just walk away from twelve years with a woman because he isn’t sure about marrying her.
“It’s just stupid.” She wads a tissue and dabs it against the corner of her nose. “I didn’t even see it coming.”
Shit.
“Look,” I say as she sniffs, looking up at me, “I don’t know this guy, Mia. Truthfully, I don’t know you either. I can only speak to you as a man who, if given the chance to be with the woman I love, wouldn’t walk away from her for anything. But that’s just me. From a guy’s perspective, having zero insight into his head, it seems odd that he wouldn’t know by now if he wanted to marry you. Is there possibly someone else?”
I don’t know why I’m sitting in this bar peeling the label off this beer I’ve been nursing when all I can think about is telling Taylor exactly what’s on my mind right now. I guess Mia and I are both here because misery loves company.
“But she’s in love with someone else,” she says, interrupting my thoughts and completely avoiding my question. “Isn’t that what you said?”
“Yeah.” I lift the bottle and take another drink. “They broke up, I guess.”
“Oh?” Her hand darts out in excitement. “Wait, why are you acting like that’s a bad thing?”
“Doesn’t really change things, does it?” I look over at her, her lips twisted into a frown. “Being her rebound is the last thing I want.”
“Good point.”
We both turn our attention back to our drinks, silently sitting side by side as we watch the television on the wall opposite us.
“We’re pretty sad,” she finally says, bumping her shoulder playfully against mine. “Two lonely hearts drinking away our sadness in a bar on a Monday night.” We both laugh, finishing our drinks and ordering another.
After a beer and two glasses of whiskey, I’m buzzed. Mia, finishing her second martini, is right there with me.
“Wait, wait, wait.” She flaps her hands to get me to stop talking. “So she knows that you know about the account of you that she created?”
“Yes,” I say finally after thinking through what she just said another three times. “She showed me and we’ve read comments together.”
“Oh my God, can I see it?” She giggles, then stops. “Oh, but wait. You said you don’t have social media.” She picks up her phone and swipes the screen open. “What’s the account? I’ll look it up.”
“Didn’t have social media,” I correct her as I swipe my screen over to the app and open it. “I, uh, I made a secret account so I could follow her.”
“Impressive,” she says slowly as she places her phone back onto the bar and grabs mine. I watch her eyes as she flips through the videos and photos, letting out a soft whistle. “Damn, she knows what she’s doing.” She glances up at me. “Really knows your good angles.”
“Do I have a bad angle?”
She laughs and flips the screen around to face me. “Did you see this?” She points to comment that Taylor left under the woman’s request.
“Yeah.” I laugh, explaining to her how it all went down. “I guess if it gets that many likes, then she’ll agree to do it. Think it’s possible?”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “The likes probably won’t be the hard part; it’s the comment by a famous person that’s going to be hard. Know anyone famous?”
“Huh?” I take the phone and look at the comment she wrote, the requirements not the same as what we agreed to. “I do actually but they’re all clients.” I flip over to my texts, about to ask her why she added that little detail, but then it would give away my burner account I’m using to follow her.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing here?”
I open my mouth to ask the question but I pause, the words stuck in my throat. I’m definitely buzzed, enough that my guard is down, but I’m not sure I’m drunk enough to hear the truth out of my own mouth. Somewhere along the way, I decided that once I finally said it out loud, I’d have to take my shot and be honest with myself and her.
“Fuck it.” I’ll deal with the consequences later. “I swear when I look at her sometimes… I can see it in her eyes.”
“That’s not a question, Austin.”
“When she and I first met, we were clearly attracted to each other; we almost kissed but decided it was better to keep things strictly professional between us. We’ve maintained those boundaries, but recently, there’s a tension. An underlying layer of sexual chemistry that is so fucking insane it’s practically palpable between us.” I think of the look on her face earlier tonight when I crossed that boundary.
“Or maybe she feels lost and confused coming out her five-year relationship. You probably provide a very tempting distraction from that heartache. And yes, you’re very attractive, so of course she notices that. It doesn’t mean she wants anything beyond that.”
“Well, fuck. Quick and painless.”
“Sorry.” She frowns again. “Look, like you, I’m only speaking from my personal experience. I said yes to you because sometimes a really sexy guy is exactly what you need to knock the memories loose of the other guy, but clearly, I’m not there yet emotionally. Which is unfortunate because you really are hot as hell.”
“I asked you out because you look like her.”
We stare at each other for several seconds, both of us bursting into laughter at the reality that this really is cathartic.
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head again. “That was so fucked up of me.”
“Here’s to us trying and failing miserably at attempting to get over love.” She lifts her glass of water and clinks it against my tumbler.
“What are you thinking about your ex?”
She keeps her gaze forward for several seconds before looking over at me. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue. I’d like to say fuck him, his loss and move on, but I probably won’t yet. I’m not ready to walk away from him. Pathetic?”
I shake my head. “I don’t fault you. Like I said, I’m just some schmuck in a bar you barely know. You have to follow your heart. But you have to be willing to risk it getting shattered again.”
“And are you going to take that risk?”
I look back down at my phone, still opened to the app with her comment. I glance at the likes; it’s still just under four hundred thousand. A fucked-up thought starts to churn in my brain.
“You don’t happen to know anyone famous, do you?” I laugh, unsure if I’m joking or not.
“Yeah, actually. You know Dante Miller?”
My eyes bulge. “Rookie of the year Dante Miller? Point guard for the Chicago Bulls Dante Miller?”
“Yeah.” She giggles. “That one. He’s my brother-in-law.”
You can’t drive down a single highway in Illinois or watch a single commercial without seeing his face smiling back at you. And thanks to social media, the man has become an overnight international legend with endorsement deals that will set him up for life.
“Any chance you can get him to comment and share that stupid video?”
She looks up from her phone. “Already done. Just sent him the video and told him I need a favor for a friend.”
This is stupid. Tell her to undo it.
“I actually thought of it the second I saw the comment,” she says, placing her phone into her purse.
“I was joking; it’s just the alcohol.” I lift my empty tumbler, saying just enough to ease my conscience but knowing damn well I’m going to let it play out and see what happens. “I should, however, head home before I stupidly decide showing up to her apartment is a good idea.” I toss more than enough bills on the bar to cover the tab along with a generous tip.
“Some might say that’s romantic.” She slides down from her stool and links her arm through mine as we walk out of the bar.
“And some might say it’s desperate and pathetic.”
She turns to face me just as her car pulls up. “For the record, I don’t think you should give up. I think love is always worth the risk. Even if it makes you seem desperate and pathetic.” She rolls her eyes, using air quotes.
“Thanks.” I smile. “I’m glad we were both able to let some things out tonight. It felt good.”
“Me too.” I walk her toward the car and open the door for her, letting her slide in.
“But word to the wise. There’s no investment that’s risk proof. Love has always been worth it for you so far, but you have no idea what kind of risk you’re taking in the future. What you stand to lose with the next person or by going back to your ex to ask for a second chance.”
Her hand darts out so I can’t close the door. “Why not? What’s the worst that can happen—a broken heart?”
“No.” I shake my head. “A broken heart can heal. It’s having to live the rest of your life knowing they didn’t think you were worth the risk.”
“But aren’t you taking a risk either way? You risk never having her because you’re too afraid.”
“I can’t lose what I’ve never had, Mia.” It’s a raw confession, one I hadn’t even made to myself before now. That’s the real fear. It’s never been a question of risk or worth to me. It’s always been the fear that I’d lose what access I have to her now if she doesn’t feel the same. The dynamic would shift and most likely our friendship would cease to exist. But even I know it’s only a matter of time before I break.
Her eyes glisten with the threat of fresh tears, a sad smile tugging at her lips as she mulls over my answer.
“I’d rather live knowing I tried than with regret knowing I didn’t.” And with that, she shrugs and reaches out to close the door, leaving me on the sidewalk, wondering if I have it all completely wrong.
I sling my suit coat over my shoulder, lost in thought as I walk aimlessly down the block. Mia’s words echo through my brain and before I realize it, I’m standing outside Taylor’s building. I stare up at the high-rise, dozens of windows glowing with televisions and overhead lights.
I stop, pulling my phone out to look at her account again. This time, I watch the video she posted earlier, the one I pressured her to. I read the caption: When work daddy says you have to be a good girl.
If she had said those words to me in her office, there would be no boundaries left between us. I wouldn’t have just crossed the line; I would have sprinted so far fucking past it there would be no confusion about my intentions.
“Fuuuck,” I groan, trying to talk myself out of walking inside. I scroll through a few comments when one that has more likes than any other catches my eye.
The way he looks at you is going to get all of us pregnant.
My cock stirs, an insatiable craving building in my balls. I click the comment, reading through dozens of replies, hoping to see one from Taylor but there isn’t. Maybe she hasn’t seen it yet. I put my phone back into my pocket, walking up to her building without a clue what the hell I’m going to say when she opens the door.
“Good evening, sir. Can I call someone down for you?”
I glance over at the doorman, a questioning smile on his face. I don’t recognize him. Not surprising since the last time I came to her building to get her was close to four years ago. It was a company event, all of us going to a summer concert at Wrigley Field after signing our largest client to date. Pretty soon after that, Noah moved in with her and that put an end to any outside work hangouts.
“Yes, please. Taylor Harrington.” I run my hands nervously through my hair before rifling through my pocket for a breath mint. Then it hits me. Maybe she moved somewhere else when they broke up. This might not even be where she lives anymore.
“I’m sorry, sir.” He smiles apologetically. “I’m not getting an answer at her unit. Would you like to leave her a message?”
I glance down at my watch; it’s half past nine on a Monday night.
There’s no way she’s gone to bed this early.
“No, no, thank you.” I offer a wave and make my way back outside, a sick feeling settling in my stomach at the thought of where she might be at this hour.
Maybe I’m more fucked up in the head about it than I realize as an image of her laughing at some asshole’s unfunny joke sours my stomach further. Maybe she’s doing what Mia was attempting to do with me, get over one guy by getting under the next. Jealousy burns through my chest.
I look up just as a cab turns onto the street. “Hey!” I hold up my hand, jogging across the intersection as the driver slows and I climb into the back. “Thanks.” I give my address and lean back against the seat, letting my gaze wander out the window.
We’re halfway down the block, the driver slowing to take the turn, when I look up and see Taylor walking down the sidewalk. I sit up, ready to tell the driver to stop, to dart out of the cab, when I notice her laughing, smiling at something the man next to her said.
That’s when I realize she’s not alone. She’s walking slowly, deeply engaged in conversation with a man I’ve never seen before. I turn my head, craning my neck to see if they stop at her building or go inside, but it’s no use. Once the driver makes the turn, she’s completely out of my sight.