“This is so wrong, Coen. You’re my best friend. I know where your secret porn stash is for Christ’s sake.” Her lip was again in her mouth.
Every bone in my body twitched to put it in mine. “It’s only wrong if you don’t want it.”
“I met someone,” she slipped, releasing her hand from mine.
“When was this?” I asked, feeling betrayed. She told me everything from when her period started, to which celebrity she wanted to lose her virginity to.
“The day after you asked me to the dance.”
“For over a month you dated some guy behind my back”
“Behind your back? We aren’t together, Coen!” Her face reddened and not from the kiss we’d just shared but from me getting mad at her. I hurt her.
“I’m your best friend. I expected more from you.”
And I walked out of her life. Stace tried getting us to makeup, but the reality of it was Rebel chose Carl. Not that I shared my feelings with her, or told her how much I loved her.
I let fear of rejection and jealousy over Carl consume me. I willingly gave up.
Carl was still a cockwomble.
I scanned her profile. To this very day, Rebel was hot as hell, and now, she seemed sassy and confident. A bestselling author? That’s my girl. I knew she’d go somewhere even though I thought Carl would hold her back. Maybe he had, and that was why she was on this shitty site. Maybe one of these days, I’d click the little heart and set up a drink with my childhood best friend.
“Is that Miss Rebel Payne?” Conor asked. They were really good friends back then. Stace was more his “type” in the not-so-friendship-side of things. Until he screwed her and ruined that too. Neither of us knew how to keep a woman.
“It sure is.” I beamed. I didn’t know this Rebel, but I was damn proud of who she became.
“Damn, she grew up, bro. Did you hit that little heart?”
“Timing, man. It’s all about the perfect moment. I screwed it up last time.” Not the right time. It had never been the right time.
“Stace told me we couldn’t be a thing since I was your best friend. Though Rebel claimed it was because I cheated. That girl was my dream girl. Man, I miss the smell of her hair.” He frowned.
“Such a pothead thing to say.”
“Shut the fuck up, Coen.”
“Maybe if you didn’t fuck with that chick at prom, she’d have stayed,” I added.
His pissed off demeanor surprised me. He never kept to one woman. Why would he get mad for me pointing it out?
“Don’t be mad that it’s true. Go make your own damn profile and find Stacy on it,” I smirked. “Go win her back.”
That shut him up but only momentarily. “Maybe I will.”
“Either way, go over there so I can dig through this shit. Rebel’s an author. I’m going to look her up.”
“She might write under a penname.”
Fuck. I didn’t think of that.
5
Shababalotits
Author Dating Rule Four: I’ve got mad research skills like a private detective. Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.
Rebel
Stace and I drank wine together every Thursday. We plotted our books and watched Scandal. Tonight, we’d find out what happened with Liv and Fitz, or at least that was the hope. I despised the guy, and never understood Shonda’s motive for them.
Stace sat cross-legged tapping at her keyboard on my recliner while I tried getting my lovely lady lumps all comfy on my lovesac.
“Girl, I don’t know how you don’t do this.”
I eyed Stace. She was single, intelligent, and gorgeous as hell.
“I’ve got my eyes on one man. He recently created an account. An old flame if you will.”
Her soft tone interested me immediately. It was as if we were in high school, and she found her first crush, Conor Mayhem.
My eyebrows quirked up. “Eh…who are you talking about?”
Her nose scrunched like a bunnies did when they sniffed around. “Conor Mayhem.”
I waggled my eyebrows at her. They had been each other’s’ firsts. I wish I could say mine was as memorable as theirs.
“Well, flippity floppersons, Stace. That’s a blast from the past!”
My immediate thought was Coen and the last encounter we ever had. I remembered how much I wanted his kiss, and how much more I wanted as a horny teenager. Prom, reminiscing it made me feel flushed. I could jump back into a Coen daze. He’s probably married now.
I turned back to Cara and Bo, my newest couple in Dating an Author: It's More than Just Research, book one in my newest serial. Cara just met him. She had a dry spell with her recent man and decided to write about it. Now an author, she goes to these speed-dating events to gain more research for her project.
“Holy shit, slap me silly and call me Susan.” Stace’s hand smacked over her mouth.
My eyes slanted, annoyed that she kept interrupting Cara’s fun. “What is it now?” I asked, exasperated.
Her big green eyes met mine, and I knew I wouldn’t appreciate her answer.
“Coen Kidd is on Babes & Bros.”
I stopped listening, frozen. I had just been thinking about him and his lips, and now he was on the site I’d been using as a hunting ground? Not married, then?
“Babe, did you hear me?” She snapped her fingers.
“No, sorry. What did you say?”
“Saucy McSaucersons is on here, looking for a friend. Apparently, his girl just broke his heart. The poor fella. Want to be his cuddle buddy?”
“Not interested, Stace.”
Lies. It was a total cop out. I was more than interested, and I had been since the age of sixteen.
“Don’t lie, we both know you want the Coen lollipop dipped in frosting!” Her voice got all high pitchy.
“We aren’t like that, babe,” was all I could muster as I forced myself to back into my story.
Bo kissed Cara. Her lips tingled, exploding like fireworks on Independence’s Day. She touched her lips, grazing them ever so gently, making sure she wasn’t imagining the sensations flowing through her. Then she went back to Coen and…
“Fuck!” I growled out. I couldn’t stop imaging the first and only kiss I shared with Coen.
“Thinking about after prom?” Stacy’s lips titled upward.
“How’d you know?” My hands covered my face. I run a hand through my hair, wishing I could forget him.
“Why else would that word escape your mouth…” She paused, tapping her chin, “Unless, Bo and Cara are fighting the best kind of sexual tension, and you are screaming at them to get it on already.”
I flipped her the bird, and she laughed at my aggravation.
“Who’s your next date?” she asked.
“Todd Shababalotits. I cannot for the life of me pronounce his last name.”
“Well, if you’re bumping and grinding, all you’ve got to pronounce is oooh, ugh, and mhmm. You can at least get those down.”
“Fuck you and not the literal kind since you like that shit.” I stuck out my tongue.
“In all seriousness, what are you two doing tonight?”