Page 11

DEAN

“Cheers! Here’s to International Childfree Day!”

“Is that a thing?”

“It is, though it’s not technically for another month.” Nolan, my best friend, tips his beer back.

“Why are we celebrating it today, then?”

“Because kid-free is the way to be, and I needed an excuse to indulge in some beer with my best friend.”

“I’ll drink to that.” I clink my bottle to his.

“I’ve drunk to less.”

I laugh. “True.”

He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. “All right, so, let me get this straight: you’re living with your neighbor.”

“Yes.”

“Who is hot as hell.”

“She’s…okay.”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen her—she’s hot.”

“Ah, you’ve seen her, but have you talked to her for a long period? It definitely docks hotness points.”

“Hot is hot.” He rolls his eyes. “But what you’re really trying to sit here and tell me is that living with your sexy neighbor is going to be the death of you because she annoys you ?”

“Yes.”

He shakes his head. “If anything, it’s going to kill your sex life.” He laughs to himself. “Just kidding…it’s already dead.”

“Fuck you very much, Nolan.” I flip him the bird and lift my beer bottle to my lips, taking a swig.

I hate that he’s not wrong.

My sex life is a joke. I don’t remember the last time I went on a date that ended with me between two warm thighs instead of at home with my cock in my right hand.

It’s been a long time. Too fucking long if you ask me.

The last girl I went out with spent the entire evening staring at her phone, and then she had the audacity to be offended when I suggested I take her home instead of back to my place.

Could I have taken her to my apartment and likely enjoyed a round or two in the sheets? There’s no doubt about that.

But, shit, I like at least a little bit of decent conversation beforehand.

I’m not rushing to fall in love or anything, and I’m not saying I’m some heroic dude who hasn’t ever taken a girl home just for sex; I’m just bored with the dating scene. There hasn’t been a single girl I’ve gone out with who I’ve given a second thought to since…shit, I don’t even know how long.

Nolan laughs. “Now, now, Mr. Evans, that’s not very teacherly of you.”

“Please.” I set my bottle back in front of me, wrapping my fingers around it, picking at the blue and red label. “Everyone has these buttoned-up versions of teachers in their heads, but we’re just as fucked up as the rest of ’em. We’re simply better at hiding it.”

“That’s right. Don’t want to startle the kiddos. Little twerps.”

I chuckle. “One of these days, man, you’re going to get knocked on your ass and end up with about ten of the little shits running around.”

He scoffs. “Please. I know better than to get roped into that. That’s eighteen years of responsibility.” He curls his lips, disgusted by the idea. “No thanks.”

“Right, Mr. Commitment-phobe. I forgot.”

“At least I know what I do and don’t want.”

Ouch. “I don’t think that’s anything to brag about when you’re always running after the honeymoon phase is over.”

“That’s what I call self-preservation.”

“It’s called being a wimp.”

He doesn’t acknowledge that, just tilts his beer back and finishes it off.

Because he knows I’m right.

I’ve known Nolan since I was five. We met at the bus stop for the same shitty school and bonded over neither of us having one of those sweet Power Ranger lunchboxes that were all the rage. All we had were brown paper sacks that were hardly bursting at the seams with nutritious treats.

Each day we’d meet up, and I’d swap my turkey and cheese for his peanut butter and jelly. He hated peanut butter, but it was all his dad could afford.

It never mattered to Nolan that my family won the lottery and we got out of that shithole.

He was still Nolan, and I was still Dean. That was that.

We’ve been close since we met. It’s fair to say I know Nolan well, better than anyone.

It’s how I know he’s a runner and doesn’t do commitment, which has everything to do with his mom bailing on his family when he was five. He’s been a ball of bitterness and discontent ever since. In any relationship he’s ever had, he’s always left before he can be left.

I’m serious about him meeting some girl who’ll knock him on his ass. It’s going to happen, and I can’t wait to be there to witness it.

“So, what’s this chick doing now? Besides being an absolute angel by letting your dumb ass live there after you nearly burned your apartment building down.”

I clench my jaw at the reminder, still pissed at myself—hence me sitting at the bar for happy hour, something I rarely do.

Like he could read my mind and knew I needed to blow off some steam, Nolan called me up and asked if I wanted to grab a beer. I jumped on the opportunity fast.

“She’s accused me of stealing or using her things every day I’ve lived there.”

“You’ve only been there for five days.”

“I know.” I laugh, but there’s no humor to it because I don’t find any of this funny. It’s exhausting. “The first day, she was mad because I ate her eggs or some shit. The second, she was pissed because I apparently used all her creamer.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.” He chuckles. “The third and fourth day she was in a huff because I told her she shouldn’t keep letting her dishes pile up in the sink. She hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“If you hate her that much, it sounds like the ideal situation, then.”

“Oh, it’d be great, exactly what I want—except she still hasn’t given me a key to the apartment.”

Despite my asking her every day, she still hasn’t given me a key.

This means if I want to leave the apartment, I have to wait for her to get home so I can get back in.

It’s why I was on board for beers with Nolan.

I had to be at the school today to help inventory the football equipment, and there was no way I’d be out late enough to warrant waiting around for River to come home.

I thought about stealing her keys and making a copy myself, but she keeps them in her room, and it felt wrong sneaking in there for them.

I do respect some of her boundaries.

“How do you still not have a key?”

I shrug. “No damn clue, man. I’m of the belief that it gives her some sort of high lording it over my head that she has the final say in when I come and go.”

“Given everything you’ve told me about all your tiffs with her, that wouldn’t surprise me. Still can’t believe I haven’t met her more than in passing yet.”

“You should come over one night next week for a baseball game. You can meet her then.”

“Two things.” He holds a finger up. “One, baseball is boring as fuck, and you know I hate it.” Another finger goes up. “Two, I’m in, but I do want to go on the record saying I don’t think it’s exactly good practice to invite strangers over to the place you’re crashing at temporarily.”

“One,” I counter, “baseball is boring, but pizza and beer are not, and sports are an excuse for that. Two, I need a witness. I have a feeling either she or her cat is going to murder me.”

“I’d never get in the way of a good murdering, especially when the asshole deserves it.”

“So, you’re in?”

“To watch your roommate-slash-enemy annihilate you?” He grins. “Fuck yeah.” Nolan pushes his empty bottle away, shaking his head when the bartender motions toward it, asking if he wants another.

“Please. I’m not worried about River.” I scoff, finishing off my beer.

“From what I’ve heard, you should be.”

“I can deal with her.”

“She seems feisty. Fun.”

“She’s…something.”

Nolan tilts his head. “You said that in a funny way.”

I draw my brows up. “What? I did not.”

He eyes me, curious. Then, a slow smile curves over his lips. “Oh, fuck. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” I reach for the empty beer bottle, needing something to distract myself with, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. He’s staring at me too hard and too long.

“That you have a thing for this chick.”

I bark out a laugh, motioning to the bartender for another drink; I’m going to need one if I have to sit here and listen to Nolan’s crap. “Please. I do not have a thing for her, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.”

“It means she gets your dick and your other parts going.” He leans in close and whispers, “You know, like feelings and shit.”

“Whatever, man.” I grab the beer the bartender silently slides my way and take a hefty swig. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Is River hot? Yeah, sure. I’m not blind. She’s the kind of girl I’d normally go for, but it’s not a thing . The attraction is purely physical.”

“Then you don’t mind if I ask her out?”

“You don’t even know her.”

He grins, and I know he caught that my answer wasn’t a flat-out no right off the bat. It should have been. We both know that.

“Hasn’t stopped me before. I don’t know a lot of the girls I go out with.”

True. Nolan’s not exactly the get-to-know-you type.

And whatever. I don’t judge. It’s not like I’ve never wined and dined for some pussy and then left before the awkward Do you want to grab breakfast?

The thought of him doing that to River…it makes my gut feel all weird. Wrong.

“If you don’t have a thing for her, then she’s fair game, right?”

“No.”

The word tumbles from my lips on impulse, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

If anything, it makes it all that much more honest.

I don’t want to date River, but I don’t want Nolan to date her either.

And I can’t figure out why.

He laughs, then rises off his stool. “That’s what I thought.”

“Where are you going? What do you mean that’s what you thought?”

“I’m heading out.” He reaches into his back pocket, pulling his wallet free and waving toward the bartender. “I’ve been up since the ass-crack of dawn. Not all of us get the summer off.”

“Check?” The single word is the second time I’ve heard the bartender speak since I walked in here, and it’s my favorite part about this bar. Nobody asks any questions or tries to therapize you. You can get a drink and be left alone.

Nolan nods, handing over his card, and the guy saunters off to take care of his tab.

“What did you mean that’s what you thought?” I ask again when we’re alone.

“Come on, man. Though I’m not sure why it’s always the go-to when speaking about level of intelligence, it’s not rocket science. You like her, and not just physically.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do,” the bartender says, sliding Nolan’s receipt across the counter before turning and leaving again.

“What the…” I glare at his retreating back, then shake my head. “He’s wrong.”

“He’s not wrong.” He signs the check and slides it back across the bar.

“And I’m not either. You do like her. You just won’t admit it to yourself for some reason.

Maybe it’s because you’re staying there now and you don’t want to rock the boat, which is smart, but you can’t tell me you haven’t thought about River before. ”

“I—”

“Not just when you’re jacking your dick. I’m sure you do that plenty, you dirty dog.”

Guilty as charged there.

It took every ounce of willpower I had not to wrap my hand around my cock that first night I was there.

Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was her in that tiny fucking towel, bent over so I could see everything she has to offer.

The only thing that stopped me was knowing River was lying in bed across the hall and would hear me.

“I mean in a relationship kind of way.”

He’s wrong.

I do not think of a relationship when it comes to River.

She loathes me, and we could never be anything more.

I bet the sex would be explosive though…

Nolan sighs, plucking some cash from his wallet and tossing it down onto the counter.

He slips his credit card back in. “Look, dude, I have listened to you lament the state of your love life since things went to shit with your ex and you got back into the dating scene, going on about how no woman has challenged you, made you feel excited for more than just bedroom activities—though why you’re looking for that shit is beyond me.

Hey, whatever floats your boat.” He shakes his head.

“Anyway, all I’m saying is, River challenges you, and there’s no denying it.

If you’re not already entertaining the idea of a relationship with her—something I highly fucking doubt—maybe you should. ”

He’s right. The biggest hindrance in my dating life has been that I haven’t felt challenged or at ease with anyone. It’s all the same shit, different date. The same unexciting variation of dinner, movie, bed. Rinse and fucking repeat.

It’s not fun anymore. There’s no chase. No excitement.

So, I guess I can see Nolan’s point about River.

She is fun, and she does challenge me—mostly to not commit a crime, but it’s a challenge nonetheless.

But still…she’s River.

He claps me on the shoulder, giving me a small smile. “I’ll call you later, man.”

I nod, and he takes off.

I’m left sitting here thinking about all the ways River could be right for me…maybe in more ways than just the bedroom.