“I’m trying,” I say quietly, “but my teacher keeps distracting me with his charm and good looks.”
“Charm?” he says brightly, as we walk out of the target area and into the lobby. “Wow. I’d watch out for that guy if I were you.”
“Oh, I’m watching,” I say. “His every move.” I’m making myself want to puke.
David reaches up, I think to touch my cheek, but instead he takes off my safety glasses and headphones and places them on the counter. The range safety officer is looking at us as if we are a pair of pandas at the zoo. As if he wants to gut us and hang our pelts on his family room wall. I think for a second David is going to kiss me right in front of the guy, but he doesn’t. Instead he takes the empty magazine out of the gun and signs us out in silence.
We leave the firing range and head to a nearby bar. After downing a couple of beers, our conversation turns to Matt. David tells me they met at a construction site. Matt was consulting with the design team about the electrical setup, and David was interviewing for a carpentry job. He got the job but ended up not taking it because he thought the gig with Carl was a better match. He and Matt ran into each other at a bar a week or so later and traded contact information, initially because of potential work opportunities. When David and his other friends began to organize regular poker nights a few months later, Matt got one of the first invites.
“When the game first started, we used to hang out quite a bit, but these days we’re both so busy that we don’t see each other much outside of poker anymore. But he did text me after he first saw you and me together. I think he about shit his pants when I kissed you in front of your office building that day. Part of me wanted to punch him in the face when I saw him come out the door with you. I don’t know how either one of us kept our mouths closed. He was aiming to get in your pants until he saw that kiss. I know it.” It makes me wonder if the primary reason David kissed me like that was to send a clear signal to Matt. I squish down the thought, especially because every kiss David and I have had since then has been just as rowdy.
“Uh, I really don’t think so,” I say. “He’s made it pretty clear to me that he has no interest in my pants. Or what’s in them.” Any money says my comment is going to open up a giant can of worms.
“What do you mean?” Just as I thought. The worms are out.
“He told me as much. One day at work he asked me about you, and we ended up having a little chat about how I am not a great conversationalist and how he doesn’t want to be the-guy-at-work-who-never-shuts-up. We decided to meet somewhere in the middle.” David looks as if he doesn’t believe a word I am saying. “I believe his exact words were ‘I’m not making the moves on you.’ I was kind of being a bitch, and he shut it down. In a nice way.” I know David was thinking my previous comment had something to do with what happened at his place on poker night when he wasn’t around. I still don’t think he believes me.
“What did he ask you about me?” Oh. His question is not the one I expected. Maybe I’m wrong.
“He just said you seem kind of intense and asked me what you do for a living.” I shrug my shoulders and take another sip of my beer. “Maybe he was trying to find out if I knew about the whole poker thing.”
“Maybe,” he says, seemingly placated, but I think he has more to say. And then it hits me.
“Wait a second, you said Matt was aiming to get into my pants until he saw us kiss. Did he tell you about me? Did he mention a new girl at work or something?” I’ve got it now. David is rolling his eyes at me and trying his best to look innocent. “And did you tell Matt about me before then, too? Did he know you were fucking someone, but he just didn’t know it was me?” Oh, this is good! Priceless even. They were both talking—or bragging?—about me without knowing I was the same person. David looks trapped.
“Emma, he was there when I wiped the floor with Brad’s face. He knew I was hot for whoever’s shoe that was. He knew I had it bad for you even then. But he didn’t know who you were. I never mentioned your name.”
“And?” I ask. He looks uncomfortable.
“And, he was the one that drove me home that night. The night I slept on your floor. That’s when he told me about the new hottie at work. I didn’t even know where the hell he was working, let alone that it was you.” I am feeling so fucking high right now. Part of me wants to squeal like a giddy middle schooler, knowing that these two men were crushing on me at the same time, but I know that David would not find it very amusing.