“Dad says stuff like that? He’s never said it to me.”
“Go fishing with him alone some time and he’ll surprise you. He doesn’t express things quite the way you just did—but, yeah, in his own way, Dad says exactly the same stuff about Mom. He often says he was ‘born to love her.’ Pretty cool, huh?”
I suddenly feel overcome with an intense urge to find T-Rod and drop to my knees and make her understand I’m not some manwhore looking to get laid—that I’ve moved mountains to find her because I’ve known from the first moment I saw her that she was meant to be mine. But I can’t do it. I know I can’t. She won’t believe me. And, in fact, she’ll probably tell me to fuck off. “So what should I do about this girl, Bee? I want her, man—in a way I’ve never wanted anyone before—and, for once in my life, I’m not sure how to get what I want.”
“Well, shit, man, it sounds like you’ve already got her,” Colby says. “You said, ‘My room in ten,’ and she came running.”
“No, you don’t understand. She made it clear what we did was ‘meaningless’ to her—which is understandable, given that, thanks to the whole Olivia situation, she absolutely hates my guts.”
“Yeah, I’m kinda confused about that. She screwed you, even though shehatesyou?”
“Correct. She fucked me, thinking I’m a lying, cheating scumbag. I tried to clear up the Olivia stuff, but she didn’t believe me, so I dropped it. Plus, I was way too focused on the uniform thing to care too much about anything else.”
Colby looks incredulous. “But...” He shakes his head like I’ve mind-fucked him. “This is crazy.”
“I know. This is the very thing I wanted to talk to you about. This girl is a total mind-fucker, I swear to God. Back at The Pine Box three months ago, when she thought I could potentially be her Prince Charming, she made a big thing about needing to ‘take it slow,’ and, I swear to God, she wasn’t gaming me. And now that she thinks I’m a total douche-player, she’s jumping my bones within ten minutes.”
Colby sips his beer and looks thoughtful.
“What are you thinking, Dr. Colby? I can see your wheels turning.”
“You think she’s got major trust issues, this one?”
“Definitely.” I tell Colby everything I know about T-Rod’s break-up with Mr. Soccer Douche.
“Okay, so here’s what I think,” Colby says. “Fucking aknownscumbag isn’t a risky activity for her. She’s fully aware of your douchebaggery. Or so she thinks. And, therefore, she thinks she can’t get blindsided by it. So she figures she can have some meaningless fun with you without any chance of getting hurt. It’s not true, of course—people like her don’t know how to separate sex and emotion, but she doesn’t know that because she’s never tried it before. I mean, she might be able to keep herself from feeling something for you after one sesh, but, I guarantee you, if you have sex with her all week long, she’ll fall for you, whether she wants to or not. My advice? Fuck her like a rock star by night and hang out with her by day and be your awesome self and let things happen organically. If thinking you’re an asshole is what got her into your bed in the first place, let her keep thinking it until it seems like she’s open and receptive and trusting enough to really hear you out.”
“So your gut says I shouldn’t tell her about the Search for Samantha right away?”
“Hell no. Of course, she deserves to know about all that, just not right off the bat. At first, just give her what shethinksshe wants—no-strings sex. Tell her this week is about fun and feeling good, no attachments, and that no one will ever know, blah, blah, blah. Make sure she feels safe with you and that you’ll never, ever tell anyone about—oh, wait, no, even better: beghernot to tell anyone. Ha! Tell her you don’t want Josh to find out and get pissed at you for dabbling with his honorary little sister. If she thinks she’s in a position of power, she’ll feel extra safe with you and trust will easily follow.”
“Brilliant.”
“At some point, she’ll realize she’s not capable of no-strings sex and that’s when you’ll tell her about the quest and all the other crazy-ass ‘souls reuniting’ shit you just told me and she’ll be thrilled to find out you’re not the manwhoring-cheater she thought you were.”
“Damn, Bee. You’re a fucking genius.”
“Just keep your cards close to your vest this whole week and tell her—”
“Oh, shit, Colby!” I blurt, cutting him off. “Her friend! I called T-Rod’s flight-attendant friend and told her the whole story and begged her to tell ‘Samantha’ everything!”
“Well, shit, son, you better get on the horn right quick and tell that friend not to say a damned word. If anyone’s gonna tell T-Rod what a loon you are, it’d better be you—and only when you’re good and fucking ready.”
31
Ryan
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Charlotte shouts, picking up my call. “Am I gonna need to get a restraining order against you, Ryan from The Pine Box? I haven’t had a chance to talk to my friend yet, okay? It’s only been three hours since we spoke. Cool your freaking jets, Skippy.”
I open my mouth to reply, but Charlotte forges right ahead before I can say a damned word.
“Actually, it’s probably a good thing you called, come to think of it. I wouldn’t have called you about this, but as long as I’ve got you on the line, I should tell you: there’s been a startling development since we last spoke—and, now, I don’t think you should get your hopes up about my friend calling you.”
Colby’s blue eyes are locked with mine as I press the phone against my ear. He gestures like he’s dying to know what’s happening on the call and I hold my index finger up, telling him to be patient.
Charlotte continues, “I got a text from my friend and, well, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Ryan, but it seems the exact thing you were worried about happening has happened.”
“What thing?” I ask.
