Mike frowned. “That does not square with the woman I met. Laura’s warm, she’s intelligent, she’s eager to find someone to connect with to develop a relationship with.” As Mike continued, Dylan screwed up his face, a bit jealous that Mike got that much out of her whereas Dylan had had more of a surface level experience. More entertainment than emotion.
“Dylan—you listening to me?”
“Yeah, sorry. My mind just wandered.”
“What the hell are we supposed to do about this mess now?” Mike asked.
Dylan threw his hands up in the air and made a sputtering sound. “Hell if I know. Then again I’m not so sure we have a situation if she keeps ignoring me.” He reached his hand out to shake Mike’s. Mike gave him a confused look but grasped his hand. “Then,” said Dylan dramatically “the better man won!”
Mike screwed up his face in a grimace. “That’s not how this is supposed to work.”
“No. I know. That’s not how it’s supposed to work,” Dylan answered, “but what am I supposed to do? She won’t let me even say a word.”
“I think you should go find her.”
“Find her where?”
“You know where she works, right? You even know the floor. Can’t be that hard. You know her name. You know what she looks like. You may not be the brightest bulb on the string, but...”
“Hey!”
“It’s not hard to find her. Go after her, Dylan. Maybe that’s exactly what she’s looking for.”
“Why would she want me to chase her when she’s cutting off all contact with me, or at least not answering anything? I mean 34 messages is pretty...”
“You sent her 34 messages?” He knew it, but the reality hit him, hard, in this moment, with adrenaline making his veins feel like balloons, the steady throb of blood rushing through him like the beat at a Blue Man Group concert. “Jesus, Dylan, are you nuts?”
“What? I was impatient!”
“If I were Laura and some guy sent me 34 messages through an online dating site after our first date, I’d run away screaming, too! And I’m a guy.”
Dylan laughed ruefully. “Alright, you’ve made a good point. I just, you know...”
“So how many texts did you send her?”
“Just three.”
“Three?”
“Yeah, and I left a couple...a few...okay.” Faltering, he confessed. “Six voicemails.”
“Oh, God. Really? You’re worried that I’m blowing this for us? How about you? Come on, Dylan. It’s one thing to be the alpha, it’s another to be the nutso!”
“Hey!” Mike was right. He’d gone overboard. “So, you’re saying the only way to make this right...?”
“Yep, go find her.”
“Don’t you think, if I would have scared you off from all the messages and texts, and phone calls, and voicemails, then won’t showing up at her place of employment pretty much guarantee me a visit with the cops?”
“Well, it all depends on how you present yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Go there with flowers and a latte, make it a double with some vanilla, and you may have a chance.”
“How do you know how she likes her coffee?”
Mike grinned.
“Ahhh, geez. You spent more time with her than I did, didn’t you?”
“After our date, we ended it with a nightcap. She got hers decaf but I’d imagine that during the day she drinks it straight up. Go find some coffee shop, get her a double latte with...”
“With vanilla?”
“...with vanilla. And show up with a dozen roses and see what happens next. Just don’t go all Richard Gere and do the Officer and a Gentleman thing.”
“Well, I am a firefighter. I’m used to carrying people up and down stairs and across places.”
“Yeah, I know. You are used to carrying people.”
A silence hung between them.
“But you weren’t gonna let me do that this time were you?” Dylan asked Mike. They stared off at a stand off.
“Just go see her. See if you can fix this.”
“But what about...us, the three of us?”
“I don’t know. That’s a good question.”
Nostrils flaring, Mike’s answer pissed him off. Dylan puffed up and got closer, in Mike’s personal space, his own boundaries barely drawn. “I don’t want to go see her till we’ve —until you and I have settled that.”
“Fine. So what are we doing here?”
“Um...”
Neither man knew what to say.
Mike’s eyes lit up. “I have an idea, but it’s really out there.”