Chaser Page 5

  "Because everyone always acted like it was just me who wanted to keep it light, as if the chicks would rather something more substantial," I grumbled. "But as Karen just made clear, that clearly overestimates my capacity to be seen as a potential partner."

  Rosie frowned, her forehead crinkling in thought, as if surprised I was making sense. Frankly, I had been half-hoping for a robust rebuttal, where she assured me I was excellent boyfriend stock. Her thoughtful silence spoke volumes. "I've got to get back to work. Try not to worry too much about what Nell says. Understandable given how things ended last time."

  The old familiar feeling of guilt sat inside me like a stone. "I know."

  "In a way, I think she's found her happy and now she wants the same for you. To find someone who makes you happy..." Rosie stared off at nothing. "Though you shouldn't make someone else responsible for your happiness."

  "You're talking in circles. Again."

  "Hmm. You know, if you're serious about this," said Rosie, "I'm willing to consider setting you up with one of my friends."

  "I don't know." I scratched at my stubble. "All of this soul searching and trying to date is making my head hurt."

  "If it's confusing you that much, maybe you should just take a break from sex and women."

  I paused, thinking it over. "Yeah. Maybe I should."

  "Oh my god, Eric." Rosie howled with laughter. "That was a joke. You, go without? Never going to happen."

  "It could." Talk about a complete and utter lack of fucking faith in me. Sheesh. "I mean, just because I haven't ever tried taking a break doesn't mean I couldn't."

  She laughed some more, wiping away tears as she got to her feet. "You're hilarious. Hang in there, Eric. I have faith in you. You'll figure it all out. Not that I'm convinced we ever really stop trying to figure shit out. You just move on to new problems."

  "Rosie, I love you. You are a dear and valued friend," I said. "But please stop talking now."

  Away she went to check on her tables. Thank God. Still laughing, but whatever.

  If anything, all of this supposed good advice had just confused me even more. Wise words, my ass. Also, I completely failed to see how keeping it in my pants would make me a better person. Or the alternative, putting a leash on my dick and handing over all ownership to one woman. Pretty sure monotony and monogamy sounded similar for a reason. But what the hell, I was willing to give the first option a go just to see. If only to now prove both Nell and Rosie wrong about me. So there.

  Giving Vaughan a chin tip and still not looking over at Nell (or Lydia, just to be safe), I put on my new gray merino cardigan and headed out. There was kind of a gap in my schedule given the time I had intended to spend with Karen. What a schmozzle that turned out to be.

  Things were quiet out on the street. Peaceful. The shadows of bare tree limbs waved in the cold wind. Time to start getting out the winter gear. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my black jeans and raised my shoulders, bracing myself against the chill. Luckily, I only had to walk the block.

  Pat was open late, still at work in the tattoo parlor. Andre's music shop, however, had been closed up tight. I'd only just stretched out my hand to reach for the door to the apartment entrance when a flash of movement inside caught my eye. Long legs in blue jeans and a pair of fluffy fire engine-red boots. Those could only belong to Jean. Quickly, I ducked around the side of the building, out of sight.

  So maybe the reason mine and Jean's paths hadn't crossed in the last month might have something to do with me avoiding her. Between her being pregnant and therefore definitely unsuitable for dating despite her being both hot and nice, and my making a drunken ass of myself, avoiding her seemed best.

  She stepped outside, humming some tune, and headed toward the Dive Bar. Probably picking up takeout for dinner. Or perhaps she'd have a chat with the girls, hang out a while. I usually found something incredibly important to do in the basement or back office when that happened. A matching red sweater covered her top half and I think her bulge had gotten bigger. Don't know for sure. But she'd definitely started waddling a little. It was cute.

  Out of sight, I watched until she disappeared into the bar. Yes, I hid, spying around the corner like a creepy perv. This was what my life had become. Pride didn't even matter anymore. Maybe the whole no-sex thing would be easy since I seemed to be accidentally crushing on the wrong woman. Especially since I reminded her of the missing father of her child, apparently a total fucking jerk. Awesome. I bumped my forehead against the cold brick wall.

  "You're one sorry fuck, Collins," I muttered to myself. And it was all too true.

  *

  Hours later, I just couldn't get to sleep. It'd been happening often lately. Seemed like most nights my mind just wouldn't shut up.

  It was pure happenstance that I picked up the book. I had done some sit-ups and push-ups for a while, trying to wear myself out. Nothing much on TV interested me and it wasn't like I kept a variety of reading material around.

  Yet, somehow, I wound up sitting down with the pregnancy book my brother had bought me a year or so ago. Back when becoming a father had almost been a reality. God only knows why I picked it up. Well, first I had to fish it out from the bottom of my bedside drawers, of course. It's not like I kept it on the coffee table or anything. But for an hour or so, I read about women in their last trimester. What the baby was up to and everything. It was actually kind of fascinating. I even read a little of the chapter about giving birth. That's where it turned kind of horrific. If sex caused all that, maybe keeping it in my pants was the way to go. Still, lots of questions came up, and most of them made me feel queasy. And I couldn't help but wonder if Jean knew exactly what she was in for, and if so, how the hell she slept at night at all. The changes happening inside of her, what including a baby in her life would mean. It was all so big. Hell, it was huge.

  I lay there for a long time just wondering how she felt about it all. Not that I'd ask her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "You're pouting again," said Alex.

  "Am not." I sat alone in the backseat of my brother's truck, looking up from my cell to scowl at her. Pouting. Not that I'd ever admit to it.

  "He totally is." Alex turned her attention back to the road, before gesturing to my brother. "Check him out, Joe."

  "I would," said my brother. "But I can't see shit."

  "Least you're not in a dress," I mumbled.

  "Shut up." Alex sighed for the hundredth time. "You both look great. I'm a costuming genius."

  We pulled up at a red light and Alex took the opportunity to ignore me while fussing with her long black wig. Outside, streetlights cast yellow circles in the dark. Few cars were on the road. Due to the Dive Bar schedule, we tended to have our private Halloween Party after hours on a weeknight. We'd shut early-ish, say about nine o'clock. Then everyone would head over to Vaughan and Lydia's place since they were the only ones with a house--and enough room.

  "Next year, I'm picking what we go as," I said.

  "Fine," she said.

  "You look great as Morticia, babe." Joe reached out, blindly searching for her knee to pat or something. I couldn't quite see from the backseat, but I believe his hand might have landed more in Alex's groin area given the way she squeaked.

  "Easy there." She hastily moved his grip to more child-friendly territory. "And thank you."

  "Just one question," he said. "How am I supposed to drink anything with all this hair in my face?"

  "I'll put a straw in your drink and lead you around all night so you don't bump into things." The light turned to green and Alex accelerated. "Don't worry. I've thought this all out."

  I chuckled. "Beer through a straw. Way to go, Cousin Itt."

  "Shut up, Wednesday," Joe growled. Or, at least, I think he did. It was kind of muffled from behind all the hair brushed over his face. The black Ray-Bans holding his 'do in place really made the outfit. Of course, all the hair only covered him to his shoulders. So not a true Cousin Itt. Black jeans,
boots, and a Henley shirt completed the outfit. He'd gotten off easy, because God only knows how anyone would put up with a wig that reached the floor.

  "I'm not afraid to get in touch with my feminine side." Returning to reading on my cell, I played with one of my braids, swinging it back and forth. "Could have done without the tights, though."

  "It would have looked stupid with just your hairy legs sticking out from under the dress," said Alex. "Plus, you'll be warmer."

  I grunted.

  "What's got you so enthralled back there?" she asked.

  "I'm studying."

  "Studying what?"

  "Brushing up on my dating technique for when I finish my sex ban and get back into the game."

  "The fact that you're referring to women as a game makes me wonder if you shouldn't make the break from sex permanent," said Alex.

  Joe snorted. "Still can't fucking believe you're doing that."

  "Believe it," I said.

  "Are you going to buy yourself a promise ring?"

  I gave him the bird.

  The asshole roared with laughter.

  "Anyway, I'm learning from one of the masters back here, you might say." I slid the screen up, moving onto the next email. "Very smooth the way you got her talking about her life and everything. Got to say, I'm actually impressed with you, brother."

  "The fuck you reading?" Joe turned his head, trying to look back at me. It obviously didn't do him any good since he shoved the sunglasses on top of his head and pried apart his styled hair. He glared out at me with one eye. "Man, those better not be the messages between me and Alex."

  The woman herself flashed me a foul look in the rearview mirror.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," I said. "Are you complaining about me reviewing my own dating profile, done under my name, with my picture on every message?" Joe had wooed his girl via the internet and the name and face on the dating site profile had both been mine. Another long story. "So, what ... the ratio is like two general questions to a sex one. Something like that?"

  Joe tore the hole in his curtain of hair wider. God only knows what his girl had used on it to get that effect. But it couldn't be good for his hair follicles. "Delete those right now."

  "About when do you think you're supposed to ask about her family and stuff? I'm just not sure about that personal shit." I wrapped one of my braids around a finger. "And do you use the same jokes on each girl or come up with new material?"

  "I'm going to fucking kill you."

  "Never mind," I said. "I'll work it out for myself."

  Suddenly, the car pulled over to the side of the road and screeched to a halt, throwing me against my seat belt. A car sped past, horn blaring. Fair enough, Alex's driving was not the best.

  "Eric?" Her voice was strained.

  "Yeah?"

  "Please don't read those," she said. "I realize they're in your name and that your brother was dubious as hell to do that. But they're still extremely private and I would very much appreciate you deleting them. Immediately."

  "Geez, everyone's always on me for all the one-night stands, and then the moment I make the effort to improve my boyfriend-material status, you're all jumping down my throat...." My words dwindled off. They were both still glaring at me. When riled, it turned out that Morticia and Cousin Itt made a pretty fearsome set. I looked to heaven. "All right. Fine."

  "Thank you."

  People. Jesus. Always so overly sensitive about everything. It annoyed the absolute crap out of me. But happily, the car started moving again and we were on our way. Halloween decorations filled the yards of just about every house we passed. Pumpkins, gourds, and plastic skeletons, white sheets strung up to resemble ghosts. On the actual day, there'd be all of the trick-or-treating and a parade downtown. Not to mention all the hot babes using the opportunity to dress up as slinky devils or cute angels. It was a pretty great time of year.

  Looked like everyone had already arrived at Vaughan and Lydia's. They had a small bungalow a few streets back from Sandy Beach. Vaughan, Nell, Joe, and I had all grown up in the area. Before the big money people moved in and built their mansions on the waterfront.

  "Help me out with the drinks," said Joe, feeling along the side of the truck for the load in the back.

  "What the hell are you going to do all night not being able to see?"

  He shrugged. "I'll manage."

  "You're pussy whipped."

  "Yeah and you're an asshole," said my brother, with no real anger in the words. "Can't believe you were reading those messages."

  Instead of answering, I grabbed a case of beer.

  Fake gravestones filled the front yard. Big ugly black plastic spiders decorated the side of the steps while bats dangled overhead. Strings of party lights in the shape of skulls and glowing cobwebs hung in every window. The place looked cool, the bass line from Stevie Wonder's "Superstition" thumping through the night air. Classic Halloween musical goodness.

  Alex wiggled up to the front door in her tight, long, black Morticia dress, leading Joe via the finger tucked into his belt. Before she could raise her other hand to knock, Lydia threw the door open.

  "You're here!" she said and smiled.

  "Happy Halloween." Alex kissed her on the cheek. "You make a hot dead Rosie the Riveter."

  "Why thank you. You look rather delectable yourself."

  Joe shuffled inside. "Hi."

  "Cousin Itt," said Lydia. "I like it."

  "Hey." I grinned as she took in my knee-length black dress with its prim white collar. "It was Alex's idea. We're doing an Addams Family thing."

  "You look great." She laughed. "I need to find my cell and snap some pictures. Beer can go straight into the kitchen. Thanks."

  "Sure."

  "Oh, and the real live Rosie's got a surprise for you."

  "What?"

  "I'm not telling. Go ask her yourself." Lydia's gaze was distinctly amused.

  Shit.

  A decent crowd had gathered, staff, their significant others, and a few frequent customers of the bar. After dumping the beer in the kitchen as instructed, I made my way through the gathering, smiling and nodding. I winked at Taka when he made a sarcastic comment about my legs and frock. The dude was just jealous, and fair enough. Not everyone could pull off Wednesday Addams with three days' worth of stubble.

  As it turned out, I didn't have to go in search of Rosie. She found me.

  "Eric!"

  "Hello, you..." I tilted my head to the side, taking in her outfit. Heavy black eye makeup and glossy green lips. Random bandages were strategically wrapped around her with a white top and pants beneath covering her curves. Hope her husband knew he was a damn lucky man. "Are you an Egyptian mummy, Rosie? Is that what I'm seeing here?"

  "I'm a hot mummy. The 'hot' bit is important." She dragged another woman forward by the arm. "And this is my friend Natasha. She's an aesthetician. Owns her own business over in Spokane."

  So Rosie definitely didn't believe me about the sex ban. What a surprise. No matter, I could talk to a woman without trying to bed her. This could happen.

  "Hey," I said.

  "Hi. Nice to meet you." The tall, beautiful Latina woman saluted me with her almost empty cider. She wore a colorful print dress and her dark hair was piled up on top of her head and filled with big bright plastic flowers. Also, she'd penciled in the middle of her brows making it look like she only had one long hairy unibrow. Just like that artist ... damn, what was her name?

  I clicked my fingers, forehead scrunched up.

  "Frida Kahlo," supplied Natasha.

  "Yes! Frida Kahlo. You look great," I said. "Nice to meet you too, Natasha."

  "And you're from The Addams Family." She nodded. "Very cool."

  "Thanks," I said. "My brother's girl gets all the credit, though. She was in charge this year."

  "Alex is lovely." Rosie patted my cheek, beaming. "I've been telling Natasha all about you."

  "Grrrreatt," I said, feeling ever so slightly fucking awkward. Rosie's eyes dr
illed into me, pointed and expectant. God help me. She'd gone ahead and set me up with one of her friends after all. Without any warning or even a heads-up. I leaned into Natasha. "What did she tell you, just out of curiosity?"

  Natasha laughed. She had a pretty smile and an infectious laugh. Maybe Rosie hadn't completely messed this up. I never set an actual time limit on the sex ban, now that I thought about it. If Natasha was willing to wait a couple of weeks, just long enough for me to prove myself, this might work. Then maybe we could date. Serious like. Sure, why not?

  "I didn't say anything too bad, I promise," said Rosie. "I like you with braids. You should wear those to the bar."

  "I dunno." I shrugged, playing with the end of one again. "Don't you think they're more of a casual look?"

  "What if you added ribbons?" asked Natasha.

  I made a humming noise, pretending to think it over. "That might work."

  Both women laughed.

  "More drinks required," declared Rosie, releasing her hold on her friend before bustling over to the fridge.

  I followed. "Allow me."

  "Relax, I got it. You want a beer?"

  "Please."

  She opened one of the Ninkasi Total Dominations and handed it over. A nice IPA from Oregon and my particular donation to the party bar. Lydia had also liberated some wine from the bar, cider, and a couple of bottles of liquor earlier in the day. Along with some non-alcoholic options, of course. The house had been fully stocked.

  "You want one too, Vaughan?" she asked our co-host, who had just appeared at my shoulder.

  He nodded, then mumbled to me, "Cool dress."

  "Thanks." I looked him over. "What the hell are you supposed to be?"

  "Sasquatch. But the head was too fucking hot to wear so I dumped it." He pushed a hand through his still damp red hair. "The full body fur suit is bad enough."

  "Go stand out in the cold for a while."

  "Andre and I are about to," he said. "He came in a white Vegas Elvis costume. Rhinestone belt and all. Polyester from head to toe."

  "That is not a breathable fabric."

  Natasha chuckled and I smiled at her. The woman seemed nice. Very nice.

  "Have you two met?" I asked. "Natasha, this is Vaughan. He's terrible, you won't like him."

  "We've met already," said Vaughan dourly. "And she found me to be delightful and said Lydia was a lucky woman to have me."

  I raised a brow at Natasha in question.