“It’s not over. It’s just shelved until later.” Shep follows me to the door. “I still have some things to say about your nipples.”
“Stop!” I cover my face for a brief second as we make our way to the Mustang in the circle driveway. “Friends don’t talk about each other’s body parts like this.”
He opens the car door for me. “Really? Huh. That’s too bad. Good thing we don’t have to be like other friends. And I’ve critiqued a few things about Howie. Poor guy is seriously pecker challenged.” He shuts my door after I secure my seat belt.
“I’m paying,” I say when we arrive at the golf course. The woman at the counter smiles at Shep and then at me.
“Sophie …” Shep starts his protest.
“No. You drove. I’m staying at your parents’ house. And I’ve eaten their food. I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t at least pay for our golf.” I sign for the eighteen holes of golf and turn toward Shep. “Ready?”
“Ready. Thanks for paying. It’s quite kind of you.”
Yes. They all say this. The men I manage to attract into my life find me quite generous. I’m not sure taking advantage of me is their initial intention or a byproduct of a hidden flaw they possess. Or maybe it’s my flaw. Maybe I’m an easy target. Who am I kidding? I’m the Mother Teresa of garter snakes.
Shep is different, not that I know this for certain. I just know that he will never move into my house. It’s Shep World. Separation of church and state.
As the afternoon progresses, Shep whistles every time I make a perfect putt or land a chip shot just inches from the hole. It doesn’t get old. I’m tempted to suggest we play another eighteen holes. As far as friends go, Shep’s a pretty good one. Jules might have to up her game.
“Welp.” As we walk toward the cart after the last hole, Shep stops and waits for me to turn. “I’m not worthy.” He drops to his knees and holds his putter in front of him as he bows.
“Stop.” I giggle before continuing to the cart, so he’ll stand up and not embarrass me.
“Let’s grab a cold drink.” He lumbers to his feet and joins me in the golf cart, gunning it toward the club house.
“You’re a good golfer, Shep. Kept me on my toes the whole time.”
“You on your toes. Me on my knees. Sounds fair.” He tries to sound defeated, but I don’t miss the enjoyment pulling at his lips.
We order drinks at the clubhouse and find a table with a great view. There isn’t a bad view in Sedona. Again, Shep orders a beer and I ask for a lemonade. While I wait for him to carry our drinks (which he bought) from the bar, a guy with short blond hair slows his pace and stops at my table, taking off his golf glove.
“You took my table.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Oh? I’m sorry. I can move.” I start to scoot my chair backward.
“Don’t. I may have exaggerated a bit.” He grins. “I sat here yesterday, but I was by myself. I wouldn’t mind sitting here today with you if you don’t mind.”
“I mind, Trace.” Shep sets our drinks on the table and sits across from me.
Trace eyes Shep with something that resembles contempt. “Well, doesn’t that just fucking figure.”
Shep sips his beer. “What’s that?”
“Good luck, miss.” Trace shoots me a tight smile before sauntering in the opposite direction.
“Are you cock-blocking me, Shep?”
He pauses his beer mug at his lips. “Cock-blocking implies I blocked you from having sex with that asshole. Is that what you’re implying?”
“I’m implying that if you were a girlfriend of mine, I would still be talking to him, and maybe my girlfriend and I would have invited him to join us for drinks.”
He lifts a brow, beer still paused at his lips. “And then you would have had sex with him?”
I shake my head. “Not my point.”
“What’s your point?” he asks then takes a pull of his beer.
“My point is there are some drawbacks to us being friends, specifically you being a male. People assume we are a couple.”
“Do you routinely ditch your friends for random guys?”
“No. Not my point.”
Setting his beer on the table, he shrugs. “You don’t have a point, Sophie. Unless …” His dark eyes lift to mine.
“Unless?” I stir my lemonade with the straw.
“Unless your point is that you’re in need of cock.”
“What? No! That’s not it at all.”
“You’re the one who accused me of cock-blocking you from a guy who jumps anything that moves. What else am I to deduce from that?”
“I’m joking. Geesh …” I glance out the window with a slight headshake.
“I’m just saying…” he continues “…we’re friends. And you should be looking at the upside to my gender. If … and I’m only saying if … you need a cock, I just so happen to have one you can borrow.” He grins like he borrowed that smile from the devil himself. “That’s what friends are for.”