Age 23:
From: [email protected]
LIL.
I am on the WORST date of my entire life. I wish we’d exchanged numbers so you could call and get me out of this. None of my so-called “friends” are answering, and I’m dying here.
The girl is a cute, tiny blonde. I thought her pixie cut seemed a little off at first, but you know, I’m willing to give everyone a chance. NOPE. NEVER AGAIN. Lily, she took me to hot yoga. If I hadn’t been so dehydrated from it, I probably would have cried. They tried to hold my legs over my head. My freaking balls hurt.
Let me be clear, though. I only went on this date because my best friend asked me to distract her so he could take out this girl he’s in love with—which is a long story I’ll save for another day.
Note to future self: My dream girl does not take me to yoga for fun.
Plus, this girl (not my dream girl), is pulling up pictures of her dead childhood guinea pigs. I WANT TO CRAWL INTO A HOLE.
I miss you. Please break our pact about never seeing one another or speaking. Just long enough to unleash me from this torture. I’ll love you forever, I swear.
P.S. Please help me figure out how to get my friend back for this one.
Lukewarm regards,
Shiny
***
I never stopped by Romfuzzled on my lunch break. But truth be told, I had this gnawing need to just be in Calla’s presence, and I hoped she would be there.
Reading Lily’s email after I nearly kissed Calla last night was like being slapped in the face. In the best way possible. Her honesty was exactly what I needed so I could get my head on straight and figure out what in the world was happening.
I told Calla I was bad at talking to beautiful women, but that wasn’t entirely true. There was only one specific beautiful woman I struggled to speak to coherently. One who shall not be named. So when she suggested practice, I went with it. Because when it came to Calla, I needed all the help I could get.
My first instinct was to hide away. And I gave in this morning, leaving for work early to avoid unnecessary conversation with her after last night. But Calla was a good friend, a good sister, a good roommate. Ignoring her or brushing her off entirely would be hurtful and so unlike me that the thought alone crawled under my skin and made me itch. So when I texted her this morning, and she responded with a picture of her with her eyes crossed and a mouthful of cereal, I knew it would all be okay.
This wasn’t my first crush, and it wouldn’t be my last. Lil said I was in love, and although I had it bad for Calla, I wasn’t sure love was the right word. It hadn’t been the right word for any girl up until now. But then again, I had never met a girl like Calla before.
Layla waved wildly at me, making Calla turn. When her eyes landed on me, they lit up, and a smile split her face. I considered looking over my shoulder to confirm that she wasn’t grinning at someone else. A wolfish smirk pulled at my lips. Did my presence alone really have that kind of effect on her?
I got close enough to rest my forearms on the back of Calla’s oversized chair.
“What are you doing here?” Calla asked, her tone sweet and light, like sunlight pouring through a window, casting rays across the entire space.
Layla piped up. “Yeah, Nathan, what are you doing here?” Her tone was an accusing one, a tone I’d come to know well during the years I worked with her smart ass.
I cut a glare at Layla when Calla turned to her friend. She’d make this so much worse if she figured out how I felt.
I held up the plastic bag of Chinese food I’d ordered for Luke. “I’m here to bring your fiancé lunch. You better watch your back, Lay. I may take the man back as my own.”
Calla laughed below me, eliciting another grin from me.
“Wow, that level of kiss-up is low, even for you.” Layla crossed her arms.
I shook the bag a little. “Step it up, Lay. I’m not here to mess around.”
She rolled her eyes, but she was fighting back a smile. Man, I loved pushing her buttons. I loved fighting with her over who would play DJ at the office or who was on shredder duty. These days, I had my own office. I could listen to anything I wanted and use my own shredder, yet neither of those excited me the way they used to.
Calla stood between us. The white tank top she wore under light denim overall shorts contrasted perfectly with her tan skin, and her wavy brown hair flowed past her shoulders. She briskly walked past me, so close that with her hands in her pockets, her elbow brushed ever so lightly against my dress shirt. The button of my shirt pulled slightly against her skin, causing me to turn with her.
“Luke is back this way.” She practically skipped behind the bar and through the double doors leading to the commercial kitchen.
I followed her, pulled by an invisible string connecting the two of us, but turned back toward Layla, who was shaking her head and smirking, her arms crossed over her chest. She obviously thought she had me all figured out. Maybe she did, but I refused to let her know it.
Scrunching my nose at her, I turned away like the fully grown adult man I was.
In the kitchen, Luke was lifting heavy kegs into a system I’d helped him install last summer. That same day, I bumped a wasp nest as I was climbing down a ladder and ended up in the hospital, but that’s a story for another day.
He turned his head, and a slow smile spread across his face when he saw Calla and me.
“Hey, man. They let you go during work hours?” He knew all too well how things were done at West Oak. They were notorious for terrible lunch breaks.
I lifted the plastic bag I was still carrying. “Janise may or may not think I’m at a sales meeting right now.”
He chuckled and set the keg down. “That sounds about right. Give me just a minute, and I’ll sit with you guys.” He nodded to the door that we’d just come through, and I lifted a chin in response.
As I made my way to the bar, Calla followed me like a cute little puppy nipping at my heels.
“Did you bring food for the rest of us, or just your boyfriend?” She plopped onto a stool, tossing her hair behind her and placing her elbows on the bar top. She was teasing me, batting her lashes and everything, but my heart stuttered all the same.
I let out a semi-forced laugh. “Just him. I didn’t know you’d be here.” Even if I hoped you were.
“I got nothing else to do. Spent my morning applying for every available job I could find. I might as well hang out here in case they need me.” She shrugged and grabbed the tabletop version of a ring toss game. Pulling the silver ring by the string, she attempted to toss it so it landed over the hook.
Layla slid onto the seat next to Calla, asking about the job descriptions and threatening harm if she even considered leaving the state. Which was about the most Layla thing I had ever heard.
“Most are sports media jobs in the area. Most of them would allow me to work from home. I’d only travel on game days and stuff like that. The one I want the most is a long shot. It’s a social media coordinator position for the Pittsburgh Pirates. It would mean taking game day pics, going to practices, maybe short interviews, stuff like that.”
“You would be really, really good at that,” I said without hesitation and with more admiration in my tone than I probably should have let slip.
Layla smiled and opened her mouth, probably to give me a hard time about my compliment to Calla, only to be interrupted by the double doors opening.
Luke came out dripping in sweat. He lifted the bottom of his gray Romfuzzled T-shirt and wiped his face with it, smirking at Layla.
Layla was practically panting, while Calla and I cringed.
“You live together; make eyes at each other like that when you’re at home,” Calla said, swiveling on her stool so she faced me.
I nodded. “It was kind of sweet when we all worked together, but this is too much.”
In response, Luke winked at Layla and she giggled.
Calla rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I can’t. I’m going to get B-roll of the lounge areas while the place is empty.”
“Ooh, I want to watch,” Layla said.
Calla bounced down to the floor beside me, and both girls walked back to the other room, leaving just Luke and me.
I opened the bag of to-go food and pulled out a container of sesame chicken for him.
“Thanks for thinking of me. I’m starving. Every time I’m here, I get so caught up that I forget to eat.” He broke the provided chopsticks in two and went to town.
I opened my container of teriyaki chicken and did the same. “No problem. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you anyway.”
I absolutely did not bring your favorite meal because I feel guilty about being one centimeter away from kissing your sister last night. And because I very well may want to do it again.
He took a big bite, his cheek puffing out like a chipmunk. “Well,” he said around his food, “thanks anyway. Hey.” He leaned in and lowered his voice a bit. “How is it going with Calla?”
At that, my face flamed and sirens blared in my head screaming do not answer. The collar of my button-down threatened to strangle me, and I dropped my chin, fixing my attention on the single piece of rice stuck to the opened container lid so I wouldn’t give myself away.
“Why wouldn’t it be great? She’s great. I’m great. All is great, everyone is…great.”
Seriously, Nathan? How many times can one person use the word great in a single sitting? After that disaster, there was no way Luke wasn’t picking up on my uneasiness. Especially with the way my hands were flexing around these chopsticks. He probably thought I was about to Hulk out.
Instead of giving me the questioning look I expected, Luke sighed and put his chopsticks down. “Is she bothering you? Is it the laundry thing?”
The laundry…
“Uh, no. Laundry thing? Never mind. I probably don’t want to know. No, she’s been good. Great, really. I’ve been tired from working a lot of late hours and stuff.” To be fair, that wasn’t a lie. Work had been really hectic. And I had bags under my eyes as receipts of the gruesome hours.
“Yeah, I get that.” He took a sip from the water bottle beside him. “You should get back out there. Hang out with me and Layla and Calla sometime. I haven’t seen you much since I moved out.”
Never in my life had I felt like a more disloyal friend than I did in that moment. I missed my friend, and I did want to see him more, but just the thought of hanging out with him and Calla at the same time made me nearly break out in hives. There was no way I could play it cool, and then he’d accuse me of taking advantage of his little sister. Even though I hadn’t done anything wrong…yet. And I was determined not to. I was the epitome of a law-abiding citizen. My garbage and recyclables always made it to the right bin. I’d never filed my taxes late, and I’d even been known to help turtles out of the road. So why did I feel so unbelievably guilty about having the hots for my friend’s sister?
Still flustered, I settled on “does that mean you miss me?” I’d tackle the rest another time.
He dipped his chin and narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t push your luck.”
With that bit of brevity, my anxiety waned, and we dug back into our food. After a bit, Layla rounded the bar and plucked a piece of chicken out of Luke’s takeout container, which he didn’t seem to mind at all.
Calla took the seat next to me and rested her forearms on the bar. I instinctively drew my knees in.
“You should do a little bachelor and bachelorette night out sometime next weekend. Give Layla the chance to see what else is out there.”
Luke threw a chopstick at Calla, and she laughed, the sound melodious as it bounced around in my head.
“I’m kidding. Calm down, you caveman. I thought it would be fun if we got the wedding party together and went out.”
Luke hadn’t asked me to be a groomsman yet, but that would come eventually, right? We had been friends since college, but then again, there was that time I helped Layla zip tie all of his stuff together at the office, so maybe I wasn’t the best candidate. Definitely not best man material.
Layla wrapped an arm around her fiancé’s waist and angled closer to him. “I think it would be fun. We could go bowling or do trivia at Froggy’s for old times’ sake.”
Luke was nodding before she finished the sentence. He would have agreed to anything as long as the suggestion came from Layla. She could have said let’s go dive into the Grand Canyon and he’d be like Yep. See you there, honey.
Calla bumped her knee against mine, and I jerked back like a prepubescent boy who was terrified of cooties.
Thankfully, she didn’t notice. She just leaned in farther and asked, “What do you think, Nathan?”
“Bowling sounds fun. I’m really good at bowling.” Actually, I was awful at bowling. I should have suggested laser tag. Now that was where I could show off skills.
Layla smirked. “Really? I had no idea you were good at bowling.”
I squinted at her. “It never came up.”
Ugh. She knew me so well. She was like a sister. Most of the time, I liked our connection. We were both only children, so we took it upon ourselves to try out the sibling rivalry thing. Sometimes, it was a blast. This was not one of those times.
She nodded. “Ahh, I see. Yeah, definitely. Let’s do bowling and,” she said, lowering her brows and smirking at me in the most terrifying way, “we could go line dancing.”
Oh no. Not line dancing.
Calla almost jumped out of her chair. “I love line dancing!”
Layla faked a gasp. “What a coincidence! So does Nathan.”
I loved Luke. I loved Layla. I truly thought of them as family, but I was seconds away from stuffing my best friend’s fiancé into the freezer in the back.
Luke frowned and cocked his head. “What about that one time we went line dancing after work and that guy—”
“We do not discuss it,” I said, my tone firm.
Shivers raced up my spine at the memory, and phantom pain erupted in unmentionable places. That night, a very, very large older man kicked me in the crotch while in the middle of “Copperhead Road,” simply because I turned right instead of left and came face to face with him. I tried to apologize, although I was a few margaronas in, so who knows what I said. Regardless, the guy didn’t like it. I blacked out from the pain and didn’t wake up until Luke and Layla were carrying me out to Luke’s Jeep.
Calla bit her lip and cast a weird look around the group. “There’s a story there that I need to know, isn’t there?”
I looked at my phone and jumped down from the barstool. “Look at that. I have to go back to work. See you guys never.” Then I turned and strode for the door, leaving their collective laughter behind me. Just as I was almost to my car, Luke came jogging out through the parking lot.
“Hey, I meant to ask you something.”
I eyed him warily. “I am not going to see Return of the Jedi again.”
He shook his head. “Nah, nah. I’m more on a Last Hope kick right now. But I was wondering if maybe you’d want to be my best man.”
I froze, my keys dangling from my fingers, shocked into silence.
“You know, like for the wedding? It won’t be some big, crazy ceremony, but I want you standing beside me.”
He was asking me to be his best man? Like the best man? The only thing I’d ever been the best at was making boxed mac and cheese, binge watching four seasons of a show in a single week, and okay, maybe playing piano or guitar. Oh, and homing in on every dog in a one-block radius.
“Oh, uh. You aren’t gonna ask one of your brothers?”
An insurmountable pile of guilt pressed against my shoulders. He was asking me to be his best man, and all morning, I had been fixated on how soft his sister’s hair was and how pretty she looked in the glow of the television in my apartment. I’d tried to kick my evil thoughts out. I prayed, worked, ate, and maybe lay face down on my office floor. All to no avail.
“Nah, I’d rather have my unrelated brother do it. You’ve always been there for me. Without your help with Layla, I wouldn’t be getting married in the first place.”
That did it. I was the absolute worst best friend ever. I was also a grown man with scruff and stubble, for heaven’s sake. I was not going to cry.
“Please don’t cry,” Luke said, tilting his head.
I sniffed. “I wasn’t going to.”
“Uh-huh,” he said with a smile. “So is that a yes?”
I took two steps away from the car and wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders. He was a little taller than me, so it was kind of awkward, but I was determined to follow through.
“I’ll be the best best man in history. By the time you tie the knot, statues created in my likeness will have been erected, and I’ll have set new standards to go along with the title best man. They’ll have to call everyone else their okay man, or did all right man, or maybe even not the best but not the worst man.”
Luke hugged me back, patting my shoulder blades forcefully. “All right, bud. I’ve got faith in you. You’ll do great.”
Yeah, I would. And I would no longer let my mind wander to forbidden places. Nothing could happen between Calla and me. Luke trusted me. He had faith in me. He called me his unrelated brother. I would just have to accept that Calla and I would only be friends from here on out.
It was fine. She’d eventually start seeing someone—gag—and I could find a nice girl to take out from time to time to erase the memory of her on my couch.
“I’ve got to go. I’ve got a ton of work to do at the office before my lessons tonight. I’ll send you some ideas later.”
“Ideas for what?”
“Best man stuff, bro. We’re going all out.”
He opened his mouth, but before he could object, I jumped in my car and closed the door, pointing to my ears and saying a muffled “sorry, can’t hear you.”
Regardless of what was to come, I would never betray his trust again.
The whole way back to the office, I planned. As best man, my first order of business would be to order personalized Speedos with Luke’s face on them for the groomsmen. Yes. It would be epic. I was getting into the groove of thinking non-Calla-related thoughts as I pulled into West Oak’s parking lot. In my cupholder, my phone buzzed. Janise would be breathing down my neck when I got inside, so I figured it was best to check it now.
Calla: Luke said you had lessons tonight. Still want me to come?
Shoot. I just promised myself—and Luke, even if he didn’t know it—that I would keep my distance from Calla. But then again, friends could do this kind of stuff, right? She was working on my branding, after all.
Me: If you can make it, that would be great. Although, fair warning, I may recruit you to help with crowd control.
Calla: Crowd control? How wild can children’s music lessons get?
Me: Oh, just you wait.
