Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Fuck you,” I mutter, then drown my annoyance—at myself—in a thirsty gulp of the bubbly water. I really should be able to talk about this stuff. Hell, I thought it’d be easy a few minutes ago. I don’t keep shit bottled up inside. But ever since Eva blindsided me with a breakup I never saw coming…after openly discussing rings, and homes, and plans, talking is a little harder. That’s got to be the reason I’m tripping on words.
But he’s right. I need to actually deal with these feelings head-on. Because this situation isn’t about my ex. It’s about the fact that we’re both attracted to the woman we’re about to spend a week with. “This can’t be another Zahra,” I say.
Four years ago, Zahra was an off-season fling when the sophisticated, devotedly single, thirty-something British-Lebanese attorney spent a summer in Los Angeles working for a sustainable energy client before returning to Beirut. We were both drawn to her. She was drawn to us. Even better—she liked it when two men shared her, so she made a deal to teach us “how to make a woman feel like a queen in bed.”
I should seriously send Zahra a thank you gift for all her fantastic lessons.
But even though Ledger and I are both clearly into Aubrey in the same way, the situations couldn’t be more different.
“She’s Garrett’s little sister, but that’s not even the main issue. The main issue is Aubrey almost got married today,” I say, emphatic, my voice rising as I stab my finger against the wood grain of the bar.
Ledger tilts his head. “Do you think I missed that?”
I hold up my hands in surrender. “Just want to be sure we’re both going into this trip with a similar mindset. We’re her friends,” I say. The more I say it, the more I’ll drill it in. It’ll become muscle memory.
“Like we said in the parking lot when we talked. Like we said to her,” Ledger seconds. He lifts his glass but doesn’t drink, just stares at the chalkboard menu behind the bar listing the craft beers. “What do I know about women anyway?”
Truth. I lift my glass in anti-relationship solidarity. “What do either of us know about women?”
Ledger clinks, then sets down his glass. He seems to give the question some real thought before he smirks. “Well, I do know a thing or two about how to make a woman very, very happy in bed.”
“Who’s the cocky fucker now?”
“It’s not cocky if it’s true.”
“Really? Really? Is that the definition of cocky? It’s a lie, not the truth?”
Ledger stares at me like c’mon. “Semantics are not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
He scrubs a hand across his chin and lets out a lingering sigh, his tone flat. “It’d be a bad idea.”
“Yeah, it would. Aubrey’s not the kind of woman we could keep it casual with.”
I think it over, trying, really trying, not to think about how good casual with Aubrey would be.
When Gage finishes with another customer, he heads our way again, giving each of us appraising looks with wise green eyes. “Let me guess. You two are debating the meaning of the universe, the existential nature of hockey itself, or whether you eat or drink soup?”
Like I’m answering on a game show, I bark out “eat” right as Ledger scoffs out “drink.”
“I knew you two wouldn’t agree.” With a tip of his chin, Gage asks, “So, what’s the story tonight?”
Right. The clothes. My pancake shirt and Ledger’s shoes. I’m not sure I want to go into too many details about the story behind the attire. But Gage is good people, and it’s clear something went down. I give him the briefest synopsis about a wedding that didn’t happen.
“Damn,” he says with a whistle. “That can’t be easy.”
“Definitely not. And now we’re just sorting through some things…with women,” I admit, opening up a smidge.
Gage wiggles his fingers. “Serve it up. I’ve been waiting.”
“We’re making sure we both see eye to eye about a woman,” Ledger adds.
“Good. I don’t want to see you getting your hearts broken.” Gage points from Ledger to me. “You hear me?”
Ledger lifts his glass high. “Loud and clear.”
Gage stares my way, waiting for my agreement. Even if relationships aren’t at the top of my mind, he’s not wrong. I lift my glass too. “Same.”
“Good. A ticker can only take so much.” On that stark truth, Gage pats the bar, then wheels around to handle another customer.
After a long pull, Ledger sets his glass down then deals me a dubious stare. “You drink soup, buddy. It’s liquid.”
I snort. “Things in a bowl are eaten. Case closed. Just like the case of the honeymoon trip.”
“Yeah, Aubrey’s just like…soup.”
I just hope I have it in me to keep thinking of her like food or a friend—instead of a woman I want.