Chronicles of a Serial Dater - Book 3: A New Adult Romantic Comedy (2 page)

“Okay, we have to make this fast. I have another date lined up for eleven,” he joked as he handed me the cold bottle.

“I’ll do what I can,” I winked back, enjoying the flutter of butterflies in my belly.

Shuffleboard is a simple game in theory but proved difficult in practice. It isn’t really the best date activity since you have to stand at opposite ends of the room, but I had a great time regardless. After I lost the first game, we gave up playing and just practiced sliding the disc across the slippery floor. When our hour was up, I’d already decided I liked him enough to see him again. Again, nothing weird to report… just a normal date. Imagine that!

We strolled around the neighborhood, idly making our way to the station for my train back into Manhattan. He interlaced his fingers with mine as we walked and a splash of warmth filled my belly. It was a perfect way to end a perfect date.

“Tell me something no one else knows,” he asked softly as we waited to cross the street.

I bit my lip as I tried to come up with a clever, sarcastic remark. But I had a feeling Devon was a guy who valued sincerity, so instead I chose something real but not too revealing. “Oh, I know! No one knows about this, at all. It’s my super-secret project.”

“Okay, I’m intrigued.”

“I’m writing a blog that I haven’t shared with any friends or family or anyone. The best part is people are actually kind of reading it!”

“Will you share it with me? I’d love to read it.”

I snorted at the thought of him reading about all my past dates. Between Mr. Chompy, The Ball Gag, and everyone else, I did my best not to laugh. “I’m not sure it’s something you’d be really interested in, but maybe someday.”

“I can’t wait,” he said as he slowed to a stop. I could see the subway entrance across the street and knew the date was coming to an end. My stomach flip-flopped at the thought of our first kiss. Devon pulled me against the side of a building, out of the flow of foot traffic.

“I had a great time,” I breathed, looking up into his penetrating eyes.

He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and smiled tenderly. “Me too. You did so well tonight.”

I was nearly leaning in for a kiss when I stopped short. Like a looping video, his last sentence played again in my head. “At shuffleboard you mean?”

“Just… with everything,” he whispered, dipping his head low to my level.

I pulled my head back and squinted at him questioningly. “What do you mean?”

“You passed all the tests, with flying colors I might add.” He took a step forward as if I were playing coy in dodging his advances.

“Tests?” I couldn’t conceal the real edge to my voice now.

Devon groaned and leaned against the building, as if loath to describe it in detail. “You were cool with the wheelchair thing, which,
you know
. You picked shuffleboard, which means you’re adventurous. When I offered to buy a drink, you chose something on the cheap side with a low alcohol percentage. And just now when I asked for you to tell me something no one else knows… we really connected.”

I was going to be physically sick. We were at the end of one of the best first dates of my life. It’d felt effortless and natural. For a few brief moments, I hoped it might have the potential to actually turn into something real. Like, you know, a second fucking date for once! And to find out he’d spent the entire time testing me, rating my decisions on some arbitrary scale so he could determine my dateability

We’d gone from record scratches to ringing alarm bells, which were sounding more like loud-ass cymbals crashing in my head. On a scale of one to crazy, this dating stuff was starting to look like Tom Cruise jumping on Oprah’s sofa.

“Yeah, no,” I said taking a big step away from him. “Seems you didn’t pass my asshole test.”

Devon’s expression tightened, his nose crinkling. “But I canceled my 11 p.m. for you.”

My eyes went round as I realized that even that seemingly playful comment earlier had been for real.
How could I have read this guy so wrong?
All I could do was shake my head in disbelief.

“Wow,” I muttered as I walked away without another word.

“You really shouldn’t do that, you know,” I warned Zach as I approached the front steps.

He tapped the ash from the glowing end of his cigarette off to the side and patted the step beside him. “Eh, you gotta go somehow.”

“E-cigs, gum, patches, whatever you want. I’ll pay for it as long as you quit.”

He nudged my shoulder, a waft of his cologne and scent smelled surprisingly good. “But then what will you have to nag me about?”

“True.”

When I first moved to the city, I wondered why so many people hung out in front of their buildings. I can’t speak for everyone in Manhattan, but I started to for my own reasons. Equal parts socializing with your neighbors and avoiding the stifling heat of the building upstairs.

“You had a date tonight, right?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Didn’t go well?” I could hear the smile in his voice.

Loose strands of hair stuck to my neck and face as I shook my head. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “I thought so, at first.”

“Right,” Zach declared as he jumped to his feet. He flicked the burning cherry off his cigarette, the bright light arcing through the air and scattering on the sidewalk in a splash of sparks. “You need a strong drink and I just so happen to know a place where we can get them for free tonight.” He smiled down at me and offered his arm, which I gladly took. I know drowning your sorrows in alcohol isn’t the best idea in the world, but it sounded damn good at the time.

Dive85 was fairly busy, but since we weren’t there for the meat market, we managed to find two seats down at the quiet end of the bar.

I’d given Rob a knowing smile as we strolled through the door, which he returned sheepishly. I thought about telling him I’d needed earplugs the other night, but chose to save him the embarrassment. Anette spotted us from behind the bar as we walked in and met us after she’d finished with a customer.

“Aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes? You never come in here when I’m working.”

Zach hooked a thumb towards me as we settled into the barstools. “Another bad date.”

“
Aww,
what now? Bestiality? Webbed toes? Lazy eye? Did he turn out to be a war criminal on the run?”

I shook my head and looked to the ceiling as if trying to remember my date calendar. “No, I’m pretty sure those guys are scheduled for next week.”

Anette checked up and down the bar to make sure the coast was clear. She grabbed three shot glasses, filled each with vodka, and set them in front of us.

“To dating,” she said as she raised hers.

I clinked glasses and knocked the shot back, the alcohol burning my throat on the way down. “That tasted like more,” I said as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“In that case,” Zach said as he pulled out his wallet, “you should start a tab.” He handed Anette a credit card with a wink, all of us knowing that our bar tab would mysteriously end up cleared at the end of the night.

A couple hours of tossing back countless shots, the woe-is-me dating floodgates opened up and Zach became my tipsy therapist. I was turned toward him, my legs crossed and foot wiggling, head cradled in my hand.

“You know what the worst part is? Do you realize how long it’s been since I’ve had sex?” He shook his head and looked away, focusing on his drink. “Seriously,” I pressed. “Guess.”

“I don’t know, Tal. A couple months?”

“Eight. Eight fucking months.”

He frowned as he struggled with the mental math, meeting my gaze. “But you and Kevin only broke up two months ago.”

My lips curled into a sardonic smile as I took another sip. “Your point?”

“Jeez, that’s… why? Was it him or you?” he asked and quickly shook his head. “You know what? I don’t want to know.”

I didn’t care how uncomfortable he was talking about sex. I needed to talk about it. And especially not with Anette who thought I should hump anything with a cock and a pulse… and maybe not even in that order.

“Hindsight and all that bullshit, but toward the end we became more friends than partners. I chalked it up to the stress of finals and graduating. I knew he was nervous about the next stages and moving in together, so I gave him space. But now I know that space was filled with a cute blonde with big tits.”

“He’s an asshole,” Zach muttered.

“Yes he is.”

“I would’ve never treated you like that,” he said so quietly I’m not sure I was meant to hear it.

His declaration of friendship made my heart swell. I rubbed his shoulder and cooed. “
Aww,
I know. That’s because you’re such a sweet guy. Besides, Kevin sucked in bed.”

“So, what you’re saying is…” he paused to tip the rest of the vodka into his mouth, “he turned into a boyfriend without benefits.”

“Kind of, I guess,” I squinted at him.

“And what about the idea of a friend
with
benefits?” he asked, his question dripping with fake innocence.

The memory of him looming close to me that night, his suggestion that we could possibly enter into some sexual arrangement…

“Zach, I wouldn’t want to do anything that’d hurt our friendship, you have to…”

Zach’s expression shifted slightly. Even drunk, I could hear the implication in his voice. After he’d dropped the idea of a friends-with-benefits situation in my lap, it was hard not to think about. But whenever I allowed myself to go down that path, it always ended up in the same place; fear of losing him as a friend.

I twisted around and rested both elbows on the bar, trying to ignore the strange tingle in my body. I couldn’t tell if it was from the excessive free alcohol or something more.

“It’s dangerous.”

“Maybe it isn’t. Just think for a moment. If a couple of friends were young and single and going into it with good intentions, it should be okay. And say these friends decided to make this arrangement, they’d have to lay out some rules first,” he ventured, eyes still forward. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” I repeated. “Like what kind of rules?”

“Well, and I’m just thinking off the top of my head here…”

“Of course,” I said, covering my smile with another sip of vodka. This was all too exciting and arousing.

“No spending the night after sex.”

“Right, yeah, of course,” I snorted. “That makes complete sense. What about the friends of these friends?
They probably have a few particularly nosy, opinionated friends that will find the arrangement weird. What about those kinds of
friends?”
I asked with emphasis. I was really enjoying the covert conversation, dancing around the topic felt like foreplay.

“They can’t know. It’d be better to keep it a secret,” Zach said quickly.

“But if it’s not a big deal…” I frowned.

“Still, it should only be between the two of them, don’t you think?” We locked gazes from the corner of our eyes and a tingle shot down my spine.

“Yeah, right. It’s private.”

“Even though they’re just friends.”

“Right.”

The sexual tension rose almost exponentially with each rule. These fictitious friends we were arranging this for seemed to be getting a pretty damn good deal. Friendship, still allowed to date other people without worrying, sex without strings. As we spoke, we physically drew closer and closer together. A brush of the hand here, an accidental knee against a leg there.

“Just think about it for a second. These friends, who have known and trusted each other for years, can be completely open and honest with each other. Things they like, things they don’t, positions, kinks,” he added, with a little smirk.

I broke the spell, unable to control myself any longer in this drunken state. “So help me, if you pull out a ball gag or something…”

My breath hitched in my throat as I realized I’d shattered the illusion. No mysterious, ghostly “friends.” Us. Zach and Talia. Our eyes locked and I’m pretty sure if we hadn’t been at the bar in plain view of Anette, we would’ve kissed right there.