Horror of horrors, I turn to see Finn striding in my direction. Before I can escape, he’s in front of me, wearing a crooked grin.
“Hey. Thought that was you.” Blue eyes sweep over my sweater and jeans. “Looks like you kept up with the workouts. That’s outstanding you’re staying SuperFit.”
“Hi,” I reply. “How’s life?”
“Excellent. I just dropped off my fiancée.”
My brows shoot up to my hairline. “Your fiancée?”
“Yeah. She won the bowling tournament.”
“Well, congratulations to you...all.” I wonder how much she resembles his stepmother.
On that note, I’d like to exit, but he keeps talking, “I gotta say, I’m relieved it’s settled. I feel like an adult now.” He drives my inadequacies in further, “It’s nice having your future laid out. Feels like a boulder lifted from my shoulders.”
“I bet.” I’d really like boulder-free shoulders.
“Lucy said you were dating some biker. How’s that going?”
I fidget with the strap on my purse, feeling like a serial dater. “Oh, that was ages ago. I’m…seeing someone else.”
“Listen, I hope you find someone who lasts more than a few months. It may seem like you’re going to keep going from guy to guy and never get that elusive ring, but just know, if you don’t, it’s okay. I mean that sincerely.”
“Thanks? I truly hope your marriage is...a strike.”
He beams. “Can’t come soon enough. I’ll see you later.”
He leaves and I push the elevator button harder than it deserves. What is wrong with me that Finn is engaged and I can’t find a lasting relationship?
Not even Ryan’s beard can dispel my funk.
“I didn’t think you’d ever get here,” he says as I enter his apartment.
Before I can speak, he slides hasty fingers into my hair, fisting the strands, and captures my lips. My butterflies are too depressed to take flight as he wields his tongue like a weapon of seduction. Our bodies meld together, but a magical kiss can’t dispel my argument with Charlotte. The hungry lips devouring mine would make most women forget everything, but not me.
Only I would go on a whole internal monologue.
Is three boyfriends in the span of nine-ish months really so shocking? Double standards regarding sex are so offensive. If I were a man, no one would think twice about my dating. If I had nine boyfriends in three months, it would be lauded and labeled “bad boy.” Prior to this year, I’d had two sexual partners in my entire life, so I was basically a Ryan-virgin.
I’d continue, because I have a lot to say, but—
Ryan breaks the kiss and palms my cheeks.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just…got into a fight with Charlotte.”
“Bummer.”
He doesn’t ask what it’s about and I guess that’s okay? I can’t tell him it’s about Austin, anyway. “You know, I don’t even want to think about it. I want to be here with you. I promise I’ll be more into it the next time you kiss me.”
He arches a brow. “Who says I’m going to?”
Again, “Uh...”
“Just kidding. I’ll definitely be kissing you again. I’ll be your escape.” He winks. “First, I need to finish this last-minute design change for a client.” He crosses over to his desk and sits. “Sorry, it came in after you texted me back. It will be really quick. Make yourself comfy. I’ve got edibles on the bookshelf, if you want a real escape.”
I drop my purse on his couch. “Oh, I’m not that kind of potter.”
He spins around in his chair. “Ha, ha. Wait, what?”
“I’ve never done weed before.”
“But…you live in Colorado?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re an artist.”
“Yes.”
“Far be it from me to reinforce stereotypes, but you’re really leaning out, aren’t you?”
“I don’t like boxes,” I say with a smile.
“Well, no pressure. If you wanna try, feel free.”
He taps on his laptop, and I think for a moment while he putters. This is my season. And maybe getting high will take the edge off the upset (and frankly, the guilt) about my fight with Charlotte.
I amble over to the bookshelf and pick up a little bag, label immaculately designed, reading Care Bears. Might as well try it?
The first thing I notice when I remove one is that they aren’t actually bear-shaped. That’s stupid. I pop a yellow one in my mouth. Just like normal gummy bears, the lemon ones are mediocre. Well, that’s disappointing. Red is my favorite color, so I try that next. Ooh, the cherry ones are delicious. I have another and peruse the books on Ryan’s shelves trying to get a deeper feel for his personality. His collection ranges from art to sci-fi to comic books. Lots of diversity in his reading. And self-help books. That’s good, I think.
Sitting beside Who Moved My Cheese? An A-Mazing Way to Deal With Change in Your Work and Life is the drawing of alternate me. While I wait for the edibles to take effect, the most wondrous thing happens. The drawing speaks to me. But doesn’t have pleasant things to say.
“You’re not a good friend.”
“Yes, I am,” I mumble.
“What’s that?” Ryan says, glancing over his shoulder.
“Nothing,” I say.
“It’s not nothing,” sketched-me says. “You know, a wedding is a big deal. She’s stressed. And she’s been there for you while you keep finding Mr. Wrong. And not to mention, you are still hung up on a guy that’s never going to happen.”
“You’re so judgmental,” I whisper. “I’ll have you know, I left that crush behind long ago.”
“Mm-hmm. You keep saying that.”
“I’m very into Ryan.”
“Ha. You’re into his beard.”
“Don’t ha me. You know nothing.”
“Who are you talking to?” Ryan asks.
I point to his art. “Your drawing is insulting me.”
“What?” He laughs and walks over in slow motion. “Good lord, how many of those have you eaten?”
“I dunno. How many hits get a person high?”
“That’s not…” He picks up the bag. “Oh, dear. It might take you a while to come down.” He explains I only needed a half not-bear, but he can’t stop laughing. It echoes throughout the room and pulsates in my ears.
“Then why did they make them taste so good? It’s literally candy. Am I going to die? I’m not ready to die. Will you call Granny Mae?” I fist his T-shirt. “You can’t tell her what I did. Lie to her! Tell her I died saving orphans from a fire! Oh God, you’re going to have to set a fire to throw my body in…”
He places his hands on my shoulders. “I’m not going to burn you. Take a deep breath and count to ten.”
I inhale and feel like an inflated balloon that’s going to float away, like the blueberry girl in Willy Wonka. “Seriously, you can’t tell her.”
“I promise you that Granny Mae never needs to know you broke your DARE promise.”