down.
Ali sits too. She bites her lip. “Brian met someone. He says it’s serious, so we… you know, we can’t continue our little relationship .”
“Your sex-buddy Brian?” I whisper, glancing around. The restaurant is very small, and I don’t want to risk other patrons overhearing us. But a guy at the table right next to us glances up and presses his lips together, trying to contain a grin. Oh, great.
“Yep. The same one.”
“You seem upset. Ali, that was supposed to be a practical thing based on sex. A fun and exciting thing with set rules and strong boundaries, right? That’s what you always tell me.” I sit back down, feeling my brows knit together in concern.
She puffs out her cheeks and exhales. “Yeah, it is. It was. I just wasn’t ready to let him go. I’m not emotionally involved—”
“A-ha, I see you’re not,” I interrupt.
“Nat, it’s not that. It really isn’t.”
“Then what’s going on?”
Ali takes a deep breath and exhales with force. She glances around, and then back at me. “Look, nothing emotional. At least not like a love thing. No, not with Brian. I just… I don’t want to deal with this mess. It was comfortable; I like him and trust him. To find someone like Brian is really hard.”
“Are you worried because the next candidate might not be easy to find?”
“Something like that. I hate the process. They get clingy. Or they are crap in bed. Or… I don’t know… make me want more, and that’s what I’m afraid of.”
I take her hand in both of mine and squeeze. “That’s it, Ali. I think that’s exactly what it is. You need to face your demons. You’re afraid of commitment. The rest is just fluffy fill to make you think otherwise.”
Her deep-brown eyes get huge, and her lips part. I manage to do the impossible—to make my outgoing, big-mouthed, sure-of-herself friend go speechless. Well, that’s what girlfriends are for, right? I listened and got the right conclusion. Now she just needs to trust my observation. I think she’s going to turn it into a smart-ass comeback, or scoff at me. But she actually frowns, deep in thought. Wow.
“You really think so?” She sniffs.
I nod.
Ali sighs. “Well, I suspected as much. I’m fucked up, right?”
“Yep. But not more than most of us.” I grin. “Give Giuseppe another chance. But this time set the rules straight. Tell him what chased you away last time, would you?”
“Eh, I don’t know. He’s not fuck buddy material.” She shakes her head. “But he’s awfully cute.”
“I don’t want to preach or anything. But don’t break his sweet Italian heart again, Ali. Either put your cards on the table or move on.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” She salutes with a snort. “Go, scoot, Davenport. Colin is waiting for you. And I want a full report.”
“You’ll get it, and you know it.” I get up from my chair and kiss her cheek. “See ya, sweets. Try not to overthink this.”
SIX
“Coffee and love taste best when hot.”
German proverb
My head is crammed with thoughts about Ali, her guys, Colin, my past, and all in between. I don’t even realize when I take my exit from the freeway and maneuver my Dodge Caliber into my parking spot.
After a quick shower, I dress, do my makeup and hair, and call a taxi. The Motto Bar and Grill isn’t too far from my apartment, so it takes only about ten minutes to get there.
I walk in, look around, and proceed to sit at the bar. The place is totally cool, and yes—there is the motto Colin mentioned: in the shimmery-black block letters plastered onto the wall right over the bar area, a foot or so below the ceiling. Speaking of that ceiling—it perfectly fits with the rest of the décor—beefy, unfinished logs run overhead, and stuff hangs down from it: old copper pitchers, a few empty picture frames, a large chicken-wire basket, and two tiny, beat-up stools made of wood painted in white.
I lean over the
Ali sits too. She bites her lip. “Brian met someone. He says it’s serious, so we… you know, we can’t continue our little relationship .”
“Your sex-buddy Brian?” I whisper, glancing around. The restaurant is very small, and I don’t want to risk other patrons overhearing us. But a guy at the table right next to us glances up and presses his lips together, trying to contain a grin. Oh, great.
“Yep. The same one.”
“You seem upset. Ali, that was supposed to be a practical thing based on sex. A fun and exciting thing with set rules and strong boundaries, right? That’s what you always tell me.” I sit back down, feeling my brows knit together in concern.
She puffs out her cheeks and exhales. “Yeah, it is. It was. I just wasn’t ready to let him go. I’m not emotionally involved—”
“A-ha, I see you’re not,” I interrupt.
“Nat, it’s not that. It really isn’t.”
“Then what’s going on?”
Ali takes a deep breath and exhales with force. She glances around, and then back at me. “Look, nothing emotional. At least not like a love thing. No, not with Brian. I just… I don’t want to deal with this mess. It was comfortable; I like him and trust him. To find someone like Brian is really hard.”
“Are you worried because the next candidate might not be easy to find?”
“Something like that. I hate the process. They get clingy. Or they are crap in bed. Or… I don’t know… make me want more, and that’s what I’m afraid of.”
I take her hand in both of mine and squeeze. “That’s it, Ali. I think that’s exactly what it is. You need to face your demons. You’re afraid of commitment. The rest is just fluffy fill to make you think otherwise.”
Her deep-brown eyes get huge, and her lips part. I manage to do the impossible—to make my outgoing, big-mouthed, sure-of-herself friend go speechless. Well, that’s what girlfriends are for, right? I listened and got the right conclusion. Now she just needs to trust my observation. I think she’s going to turn it into a smart-ass comeback, or scoff at me. But she actually frowns, deep in thought. Wow.
“You really think so?” She sniffs.
I nod.
Ali sighs. “Well, I suspected as much. I’m fucked up, right?”
“Yep. But not more than most of us.” I grin. “Give Giuseppe another chance. But this time set the rules straight. Tell him what chased you away last time, would you?”
“Eh, I don’t know. He’s not fuck buddy material.” She shakes her head. “But he’s awfully cute.”
“I don’t want to preach or anything. But don’t break his sweet Italian heart again, Ali. Either put your cards on the table or move on.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” She salutes with a snort. “Go, scoot, Davenport. Colin is waiting for you. And I want a full report.”
“You’ll get it, and you know it.” I get up from my chair and kiss her cheek. “See ya, sweets. Try not to overthink this.”
SIX
“Coffee and love taste best when hot.”
German proverb
My head is crammed with thoughts about Ali, her guys, Colin, my past, and all in between. I don’t even realize when I take my exit from the freeway and maneuver my Dodge Caliber into my parking spot.
After a quick shower, I dress, do my makeup and hair, and call a taxi. The Motto Bar and Grill isn’t too far from my apartment, so it takes only about ten minutes to get there.
I walk in, look around, and proceed to sit at the bar. The place is totally cool, and yes—there is the motto Colin mentioned: in the shimmery-black block letters plastered onto the wall right over the bar area, a foot or so below the ceiling. Speaking of that ceiling—it perfectly fits with the rest of the décor—beefy, unfinished logs run overhead, and stuff hangs down from it: old copper pitchers, a few empty picture frames, a large chicken-wire basket, and two tiny, beat-up stools made of wood painted in white.
I lean over the
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