Tangled(71)

“Did Matthew tell you what I was like? Do I look like the type of guy who goes catatonic over just any woman? God, Delores, I fucking worship her.”

She snorts. “Today. You worship her today. But what happens if she gives in? When the novelty wears off and the sex gets old? And some new bitch in heat crosses your path and wants you to sniff her ass?”

Sex doesn’t get old. Not if you’re doing it right.

“I don’t want anyone else. And I don’t see that changing any time…ever.”

“I think you’re full of shit.”

“I’m sure you do. If you dicked Matthew around the way I did with Kate, I’d pretty much write you off too. But what you think doesn’t change what Kate wants. And deep down, even if she won’t admit it yet, that’s me, sweetheart.”

“Could you be any more full of yourself? You may have money, but it can’t buy you class. Or integrity. You’re not even close to good enough for Kate.”

“But you think your cousin is?”

“No, I don’t. Billy’s an immature jackass, and that relationship was going nowhere fast for a long time. Over the years I tried to tell her. To make her see that she and their relationship had become more about friendship than real love. But by then our lives, our families, were so intertwined, I think they were both afraid of rocking the boat and losing more than just each other. But he did—does love her. I’m sure of that. He’s just always loved his guitar more.”

She starts to pace in front on my desk. Like a professor in a lecture hall.

“See, Drew, there are three kinds of males in this world: boys, guys, and men. Boys—like Billy—never grow up, never get serious. They only care about themselves, their music, their cars. Guys—like you—are all about numbers and variety. Like an assembly line, it’s just one one-night stand after another. Then there are men—like Matthew. They’re not perfect, but they appreciate women for more than their flexibility and mouth suction.”

She’s not wrong. You should listen to her.

The only part she doesn’t get, though, is that sometimes a guy can’t become a man until he’s met the right woman.

“You can’t make that call. You barely know me.”

“Oh, I know you. Believe me. I was conceived by a guy just like you.”

Crap. Daddy issues. They’re the worst.

“Kate and I look out for each other,” she goes on. “We always have. And I’m not going to let her be another notch on your STD-coated bedpost.”

You ever bang your head against a wall?

No?

Watch closely. This is what it looks like.

“She’s not. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! What fucking language would you like to hear it in?”

“I don’t know. Do you speak anything besides Asshole?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I feel an aneurism coming on.

“Okay, look—you don’t trust me? Fine. Talk to Matthew. You trust him, right? He wouldn’t want me screwing around with his girlfriend’s best friend if I wasn’t playing for keeps.”

She waves her hand in the air. “That doesn’t prove anything. Penises stick together.”

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

I scrub my hand down my face. Then I take a deep, calming breath. Time to lay it on the line. Put my cards on the table. Throw the Hail Mary pass.

I walk to the window, gathering my thoughts as I watch the traffic far below. I’m still looking at it as I tell her, “You know what I saw yesterday when I was coming to work? I saw a pregnant woman, getting a cab…”

I used to think pregnant women were kind of grotesque. Deformed. You should have seen Alexandra. When she was knocked up with Mackenzie, she looked like she’d eaten Humpty Dumpty for breakfast. And the way she was chowing down at the time, she totally could have.

“…and all I could think about was how adorable Kate would look pregnant. And about how I wanted to do things for her. Like…if she gets sick, I want to be the guy making her tea and bringing her tissues. I want to know how she got that small scar on her chin and if she’s afraid of spiders…and what she dreams about at night. Everything. It’s fucking insane—don’t think I don’t know that. It’s never happened to me before. And I don’t want it to ever happen again—with anybody else. Just Kate.”

I turn my head from the window and look her in the eyes.

If you’re ever in the woods and come face to face with a pissed-off momma bear, it’s always better to look her in the eyes. Run away? She’ll feed you to the cubs. One arm at a time. But if you stand your ground, you just might make it out alive.