"Yeah, for the most part. We both apologized. She cried a lot. And then we fell asleep . . ." She fell asleep quickly. I, on the other hand, soaked in the night with her pressed against me. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the feel of a woman in my arms again, but what I really enjoyed was the feeling of not being alone. There is something to be said about human connection. There was nothing sexual about our night together; it was strictly platonic . . . just two friends-consenting adults-engaged in some solid spooning. Nothing wrong with that.
"Why did you trail off like that?" Smalls asks. "Did you fuck her?"
"No. Jesus, man. We just slept. I don't see Emma like that. She's a friend, that's it." Except when she's trying out poses from Playboy, showing off all her best attributes. Shit, I can still see that perfect little ass of hers up in the air.
"All right, so things are good now with you two, right?" Racer asks. "So why is your brow creased from looking at a text from her?"
I sigh. Dinner with Emma and Logan. Seems like torture. "Because, we were supposed to have a dinner thing tonight and she's bringing her friend I don't like."
"Her friend?" Smalls wiggles his eyebrows. "A fuck buddy?"
I smack his arm. "What the hell is wrong with you? It's not always about sex." Logan better not be her fuck buddy. She is so much better than him. Granted, I don't know him all that well, but he's a tool. "They're just friends."
"She seems to have a lot of 'friends'." Racer uses air quotes and it takes all the strength in my body not to pummel him to the ground. These idiots are not helping at all. Usually I welcome their company but for some reason, talking about Emma with them is not sitting well.
I look down at my watch. "Time for you dickheads to get back to work." I snag my clipboard from the table and make my way to the stairs. I'm going to check out their drywall job, maybe fuck it up a bit so they have to redo it. That's the kind of mood I'm in.
"You're so sensitive these days," Racer says as he chases after me, Smalls closing in behind him. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you were developing feelings for this chick."
That makes me stop my ascent. Spinning on my heels, I look down at Racer and Smalls who have shit-eating grins on their faces. Christ.
"I don't have feelings for Emma. I'm just protective, I always have been. She's a good girl and deserves the best, especially after having to put up with all the bullshit our group of friends put her through."
"And her friend she's bringing to dinner doesn't meet your standards?"
"No," I answer flatly and make my way up the rest of the stairs.
Who knows? Logan could be the greatest fucking guy on the planet but I'm not feeling his vibe. There's something there, I just don't know what it is. Call it a friend's intuition. Call it male intuition.
Once on the second floor, I examine the drywall job. I know I don't have to, their craftsmanship is impeccable, but I feel like paying back the favor and pushing their buttons, like they're pushing mine.
"Shit patching," I mutter and pretend to write something down on my clipboard.
"The fuck it is." Smalls walks up to the wall and starts running his hand over it. Racer stands to the side, reading my bullshit.
With his arms crossed over his chest, he says, "So you don't want to be alone with Emma and her friend. Fair enough, invite us over for dinner to be a buffer."
"Oh, I like dinner," Smalls chimes in.
That actually isn't such a bad idea.
"All right, you can come to dinner." They both fist-pump but I hold up my hand. "On a few conditions; you dickheads bring your own booze."
"Easy," Racer remarks.
"And there will be zero tolerance of you hitting on Emma. She's off limits."
"Well, fuck." Racer lets out a long huff of air. "There goes my hot-nurse fantasy. I was looking to fake an injury tonight."
I point my pen at Racer. "Don't even fucking think about it."
When I walk away, I hear Racer and Smalls high-five and then say, "We finally get to see where he lives."
Shit. I'm going to need more folding chairs.
***
"Ohhhh, Tucker. I love what you've done with the place," Racer coos in womanly voice, holding a pack of beer to his chest, acting like an idiot.
"Just get the fuck inside." I grab his shirt and yank him in the door. Smalls follows in behind him. "You two are late."
"Smalls forgot to put deodorant on. We had to stop at Price Chopper so princess could smell like a ship sailing into bay."