Another Shot At Love Page 13

  Taking a drink of water, I leaned against the counter, deep in thought.

  The phone rang and on reflex I picked it up without checking the caller ID first. “Hello?”

  “Oh good, you’re home now. Did you get my message?” Richard asked eagerly, breathing heavily into the phone. He was clearly excited to have reached a warm body on the other end of the line. I shuddered—and not in ecstasy.

  I looked at the clock on the microwave: it was ten p.m., only fifteen minutes since his last message.

  “Yes, I got both of them.” I stuffed the phone between my ear and shoulder and began pacing, gesturing with my hands. “Richard, I’m…Listen, I realize something must have changed on your end since you, you know, dumped me, but you had it right. We’re just not compatible. Like you said. Remember?”

  I nodded vigorously, hoping he could somehow sense just how much I believed we weren’t any good together. There wasn’t a future with us—especially not with my mind so focused on Matt’s dimples.

  “About that, I was thinking maybe I was wrong. You know? You’re pretty awesome.”

  Hmm. How could I argue? He was making this very difficult.

  “Thank you. That’s a very nice compliment coming from someone…as awesome as you.” I squeezed my eyes shut and mouthed shit, shit, shit. Then I said, “But the problem is that I’m just not ready for commitment.”

  Yeah. I smiled, satisfied I had finally delivered a fact he wouldn’t be able to argue with. I stopped pacing, feeling pretty damn good about the conversation now.

  Until he said, “I think we should give it another shot. I only dumped you because the guys thought I should play hard to get.”

  I smacked my forehead with my palm. Of course his friends would think humiliating a girl in public was a great way to play hard to get. Probably, none of them had ever had a real girlfriend in their lives. And cyber girlfriends didn’t count. What my generation lacked was a little human interaction; something my dad mentioned every chance he got.

  I shook my head. “Richard, really, I—”

  “And they all think you’re hot,” he added. “Even the guys I play Minecraft with online think you’re hot.”

  I had no clue what Minecraft was. What I did understand, though, was the people he spoke of didn’t work at Bradshaw Insurance. “Oh, they do, huh? How would your Minecraft friends know if I’m hot or not?”

  He’d probably snapped some pictures of me at work. I pictured him and his IT friends hiding behind trashcans and vending machines with their camera phones. My eye started to twitch. I took his silence as an admission of guilt. “Richard?”

  “I, um, well, uh, I just described you to them. Yeah. They think you sound super hot.”

  I didn’t buy it. “You must be really good at appearance descriptors.”

  “Oh yeah, I really am.” He was far too quick to agree, and sounded relieved. “After talking with the guys, I think we could really have something. I think you should come over and game with me. If Xbox isn’t your thing you could bring your laptop and I can set you up with a Minecraft account.”

  I flinched. “Richard, I don’t even know what Minecraft is. But that’s not the problem. I’m just not into that kind of thing. You know?”

  “Oh, you’d like it. You can even try on my War Zombies 4 helmet. It has a switch on the side so you can see in the dark.”

  From the excitement in his voice, I assumed I wasn’t supposed to be horrified by the offer. I knocked over the glass of water and swallowed a few swear words. How the hell was I supposed respond to the helmet offer? The conversation had just gotten weird in a bad way.

  When I didn’t answer, he said, “You could come over tonight if you want. It’s kind of late, but my mom doesn’t care when I have people over.”

  “Richard, you aren’t listening to me.” I grimaced at the thought of getting mean. I needed to get the point across without sounding like a major bitch. He seemed like a nice guy, despite everything. “Here’s the thing; you aren’t my type. At all. I don’t date guys like you, never have. You’re…too smart and have too many…electronic gadgets. Bikers. I’m into bikers.”

  “Bikers?”

  “Yeah. Bikers,” I said with a firm nod. “You should just move on, you know? There are plenty of nice girls out there who are into your games…into gaming…gamers. Whatever it’s called. I mean, what about a relationship with a nice girl online? Maybe you could go to some kind of video game hang out and find a girl there.”

  “I didn’t know you liked bikers,” he said, sounding much too interested for someone who’d been told to take a hike. “I guess I’ll see you around, then.”

  “Right,” I agreed and nodded at the wall. “Of course, yeah. I’ll see you around, Richard.”

  I set the phone in its cradle on the counter.

  “Well, that was strange,” I said to the empty room.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Here’s the deal. My best friend has been talking about you all week,” Roxanna said to Matt and I stepped on her toe under the table.

  Yeah, I had been talking about Matt all week, but it was none of his business. He didn’t need to know that I’d spent four and a half days—not that I was counting—thinking of an excuse, any excuse, to call him. Roxanna suggested I bring him along to what had become our Thursday night ritual of ladies night and crooning, but I’d been hesitant. I’d only agreed after Roxanna promised to be on her best behavior. Lexie was out of town with Jeremy, so it was just me, Roxanna and Matt in a corner booth at the karaoke bar, and had no more than sat down and ordered our drinks before Roxanna was already up to her nosy ways.

  “Ouch,” Roxanna said and scooted her foot from under mine. She ignored my warning glare, and said to Matt, “I feel like I already know you, what with Gen gushing about you on and on ever since she put her face in your crotch.”

  My cheeks flamed. I gave Matt an apologetic half grimace, half smile. “Ignore her. I try not to take her out in public much.”

  “I don’t mind,” Matt said, his eyes smiling. He did his dimple number on Roxanna and she was toast.

  “Do you have any brothers?” Roxanna asked, batting her eyes, and Matt laughed.

  “Just one, but he’s engaged.”

  “That’s a shame.” Roxanna said. “Well, despite that disappointing revelation, you’re on your way to earning my approval.”

  “Roxanna is a tough cookie to win over,” I told Matt, but he just flashed another gorgeous smile.

  “I’ll work hard for the approval.”

  “And a pleaser,” Roxanna said. “You’ve already scored another point.”

  “There are no points,” I said and fished through my purse for the lip gloss I’d just purchased. “Matt and I are friends. Neither one of us are looking for a relationship.”

  That was more for his benefit, not mine, because he’d said he wasn’t interested in serious dating. Now that I couldn’t get him out of my head, I’d decided to throw my whole dating sabbatical out the window. I hoped the new lip gloss would change his mind, too. Maybe I should have asked him exactly what his hang up on serious dating was, but truthfully I’d been too scared. I didn’t want this to be one of those times where I didn’t like the answer, because I really liked him.

  “Friends…right,” Roxanna said and winked at me. If I didn’t love her so much, I might have shaken her silly. “So what are we drinking?”

  The waitress was already on her way back from the bar, a tray with an ice cold pitcher on it and three frosty mugs.

  “Beer is good,” I said, and leaned a little away from the table so the waitress could set our mugs down. When she left, I poured beer into an ice cold mug then slid it toward Matt.

  “Nonsense; it’s Thursday night,” Roxanna said, and accepted the mug of beer I’d just poured her. “Karaoke is better heard on lush ears. And we’re all single and hot—we need shots.”

  “You’ll get used to Roxanna.” I nudged my shoulder against Matt’s arm. “She
grows on you. Like a fungus.”

  Roxanna grinned. “The good kind of fungus.”

  “Like mushrooms,” Matt suggested, winning him another point from Roxanna, probably.

  “I would have given anything to see Gen’s face when you walked into her parents’ dining room.” Roxanna laughed. “I miss one Saturday dinner at the Gorecki household and it turns out to be the most exciting one of the year.” She glanced over at me. “When are you going to tell them all you made it up?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I glanced at Matt. “But I promise soon.”

  “I didn’t really think about the consequences of me showing up,” Matt admitted. “I’m sorry if I made things worse.”

  “No, it’s not your fault. I’m the one with the big fat liar mouth,” I said, only half joking. Mom had been talking about Matt all week long, dropping his name in every conversation I had with her and Dad. Lexie had warned me about this, and every day I didn’t admit the truth only made the matter worse.

  “Marilyn’s probably already planning a wedding,” Roxanna said. Matt cleared his throat and took a drink of beer. She pierced him with a best friend glare. “Commitment phobia?”

  “Not particularly.” Matt grinned. “Only on the first fake date with a fake girlfriend at her parents’ house.”

  “Point taken,” Roxanna conceded. “What do you do for fun, Matt?”

  “I like to fish, take long walks on the beach and cuddle,” Matt said, and my insides warmed. After this night, Roxanna would have to like him. He was easy going and quick to smile and, right now, that was exactly what I needed. I didn’t want to over-think things. I’d been doing that too much in the last few months. Live in the moment; that’s what I would do.

  The waitress reappeared to ask if we needed anything, and Matt held out a twenty-dollar bill. “The lady here would like to order shots.” He gestured with a nod to Roxanna. “And I have a feeling I’ll need a few.”

  Roxanna held up her beer when the waitress left, and we raised ours in toast. “It’s a best friend’s duty not to go easy on a guy for at least thirty minutes after meeting them. There’s rules about this kind of thing.” With a wicked grin, Roxanna said, “Here’s to crotch-sniffing.”

  I stepped on her toe under the table and laughed. “You are such a jerk.”

  We drank too much and laughed too loudly, and I didn’t once worry about the next morning or how I’d make it through work. Roxanna sang while Matt and I listened, because she was good and I refused to touch a microphone. When she snuck Matt’s name in the rotation and the DJ called him up, I knew he’d had too much to drink when he stood and said, “Sure, what the hell.” Especially since he’d mentioned an hour or two before that he never in his life had sung karaoke and didn’t plan to any time soon. We followed him up by the stage, cheering him on until the music started and his lyrics flashed on the screen. When he opened his mouth, I realized why he didn’t sing.

  “Oh, my God,” I breathed while the worst sounds croaked out of Matt’s beautiful mouth, positioned above his perfectly-chiseled chin. It couldn’t even be described as singing. Just a deep, cracking, shaky voice. Not that I was a rock star, which was why I stayed away from the microphone.

  “If he weren’t so damn gorgeous, he’d be booed off the stage.” Roxanna’s face was taut as Matt’s horrible rendition of Purple Rain flooded the bar.

  I glared at her. “This is all your fault. You forced him up there.”

  Roxanna shrugged and held her hands up. “Hey, I just put his name in. He’s the one who jumped up when they called it.”

  Okay, that was true, but still…

  “Look at him. He’s having so much fun,” I said and smiled back encouragement. He didn’t seem to need it; the huge grin on his face told me he was enjoying himself. “He must love this song.”

  “Honey, I know, I know, I know times are changing,” Matt sang, and the crowd erupted with cheering.

  “Holy shit, look at them,” Roxanna breathed. “They’re in love.”

  Most of the women in the bar had their eyes glued to Matt. Roxanna and I clapped and wooted raucously along with the rest of the women who were eating out of the palm of his hand. He was horrible, and I couldn’t remember anything more adorable than him singing his heart out on stage. My heart beat chaotically to the cheering and the bass of the music, and every time he caught my eye, I had to tell myself to calm down.

  “He’s horrible,” I laughed and couldn’t have wiped the grin off my face if someone had pointed a gun to my head.

  “But perfect,” Roxanna said with a shake of her head. “I like this guy. You can keep him.”

  “Thanks. I wasn’t thinking of throwing him back,” I said just as the song ended, and bounded to the stage. When Matt jumped down, I threw myself into his arms and he spun me around, his laughter infectious.

  “That was absolutely terrific,” I said, and it wasn’t a lie. I’d never smiled so much in my life.

  We kissed with the rowdy crowd in the bar cheering us on.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I had been avoiding the conversation with my parents, but it was inevitable—and the right thing to do. Disappointing them wasn’t something I made a habit of. This time I wouldn’t blame them if they disowned me. But they deserved to know the truth.

  I opted for a phone call instead of a face-to-face because I was a chicken. I have a tendency to cry when I get worked up and I needed Mom to understand me. If I turned into a blubbering, weeping mess, it wouldn’t do any of us any good.

  I chose the straight-forward, no-bull route.

  “I made it all up, Mom,” I said into the phone. Mom, however, must have thought it was a load of crap and sputtered into the phone.

  “What do you mean? You two look great together. You are great together.”

  Hmm. She’d made a good point. I actually happened to think Matt and I looked amazing, not just great, together.

  “Mom, neither Matt nor I are interested in a serious relationship right now.”

  Well, at least it had been true when we first met. But after two weeks, I had this little crush on him, which complicated things. But I’d been telling myself it didn’t matter. A little crush was nothing. I liked spending time with him, liked the way I felt around him. So, if casual made him more comfortable, then I was going to be the coolest, most casual chick he’d ever met.

  Fun Gen, that’s me. I dropped down onto the couch and laid back.

  “Now you listen to me, young lady,” Mom said, and I braced myself for the fireworks. “I’ve been very supportive of you flitting around life like it’s no big deal.”

  “I don’t fli—” I started, but Mom cut me off.

  “But this is it,” she huffed. I pictured her pacing. “Matt is a good man. If you think I’m going to let you sabotage the only promising relationship you’ve ever had, you’d better think again. Matt is perfect for you. I don’t care what you did to him; you make it right.”

  “Mom, I can’t make it right. We weren’t a couple.” I dropped a leg over the side of the couch to rest my foot on the floor.

  “You broke up with him, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question. The disappointment in Mom’s voice was lucid.

  “Of course she broke up with him.”

  I sat up at the sound of Catherine’s voice on the other end of the line. “Is that Cat? Tell her this is none of her business.”

  Not good. Cat would probably have Paul on the phone in five seconds if she thought I still needed a date for the engagement party.

  “Of course it’s her business,” Mom said, slamming something down on the kitchen counter. It sounded like a jar…or a hammer. “If you don’t fix this you leave me no choice but to step in and fix it for you.”

  “Mom, you can’t fix my relationship because we don’t have one.”

  “Imogen Mae,” Mom warned.

  “It’s over. Really. He…has smelly feet.” He didn’t have smelly feet. He didn’t have smelly anything.
Matt was perfect. I had no idea where the words had come from; they’d just fallen out of my mouth from some kind of self-destructive reflex. I smacked myself in the forehead and squeezed my eyes shut.

  What the hell is wrong with you? Oh. My. God. This phone call had been about telling Mom the truth, not bringing in another lie. I felt rotten. Horrible. Worst daughter ever. My heartbeat picked up speed to an erratic thump in my chest. I wiped a clammy hand on my jeans and wondered why I hadn’t simply told her Matt was just a friend. Stupid, stupid, stupid! “Mom, actually—”

  I was too late.

  “All men have smelly feet!” Mom cried out in exasperation.

  “Tony doesn’t have smelly feet,” Catherine said in the background.

  I rolled my eyes. “Tony has bad B.O.”

  “I’m not telling your sister you said that.”

  “What did she say about Tony?” Catherine asked.

  “Nothing,” Mom told Catherine. “Gen, your dad likes Matt. They are going fishing together. Do you want to break your father’s heart?”

  And then Mom hung up.

  I closed my eyes and screamed into a couch pillow. When I was done having my meltdown, I told the empty room, “I tried.”

  Funny how lying worked: I had lied and everyone believed me; I’d confessed my sins, and no one wanted to hear it.

  My big fat mouth had really gotten out of hand. What would my parents think when they learned the truth? How could I even explain this to my dad? It sounded ridiculous even in my own head. My vision blurred and I lost focus on the ceiling. I had no idea how to make things right.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I kept staring obsessively at my cell phone display, hoping he would call. He’d told me he would, once he returned from an out of town investors’ conference. It had only been a few days since I’d heard from him, but it felt like weeks. I needed to tell him everything was okay on the parental front.