“Because I’m fairly certain she can’t stand me. So, there’s that.”
“Hmm... I don’t think that’s the case. She might think you’re a jerkface for keeping her awake at night with all of your chainsawing and manly machine noises, but she can probably stand you. At least a little.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Well, I think she’ll come over. At least for a little bit. I told her there were some people I wanted to introduce her to.”
“We’ll see,” I stated and took a long swig of my beer.
***
Nearly twenty people had shown up for the cookout, and things were getting a little loud. I kept glancing at the door, secretly wishing Emmy would show up, but she didn't. I couldn’t tell you why I was hoping she would; like I’d told Ryan, it was pretty clear she wasn’t too fond of me. I wasn’t used to that. People generally liked me unless I’d really given them reason not to; maybe that was why it bothered me: I didn’t think I’d really given her a reason.
As the evening got later and later, I found myself wondering if she was trying to get to sleep and just getting madder at me for the noise even, though she surely had to know the cookout was all Ryan’s doing. The same guy who was currently stumbling up my stairs toward the guest room with some chick. I just leaned back on the couch, shaking my head.
“I really hate that guy,” the brunette said as she sat plopped down beside me. When I looked over, I knew her name was Sandy or Sharon or something close to that. “He is all over the place, all the time.”
“He’s just having fun.” I lifted a bottle of water to my lips. I stopped after the fourth beer and switched to water. I’d never been one to drink until I was trashed.
“Yeah. Fun,” she chided. “At the expense of every girl in town.”
“He doesn’t make any promises as far as I know. If you fall into that bed, then you already know what you're getting.” I was uncomfortable talking about Ryan and his sexual escapades.
“At least you aren't like that.” She smiled and leaned in a little closer.
She was right. I was definitely not like that, and I was definitely not going there with her. I have always been a firm believer in the bro code, and I wasn't going anywhere near anyone that Ryan had slept with. We learned the hard way in high school that girls are territorial and that even going on a date with one girl’s friend basically started World War Three. Through the years, Ryan has managed to sleep with most of the girls in town at one point or another—it’s a small town—and they always thought they would be the one that tamed him. While he has had a few relationships, they were never long lasting.
The brunette traced her finger over the ridge on my forearm and pressed her chest against my arm. I should have stood then, but nothing she did was going to get me sleep with her. Ryan had told me about her and, even if it was exaggerated, there wasn't a chance in hell that this chick was getting any part of me.
“Nope, I'm not like that, and I don't sleep with anyone Ryan has been with. You should know that, Sharon,” I said, focused on the bottle in my hands.
“That was years ago,” she stated and leaned in a little closer. “And my name is Sheree. I just thought we could have a little fun.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested.” I pushed away and stood before walking out of the room and through the screen door into the backyard. There was a game of cornhole going on, so I watched for a while and talked with the others standing around.
An hour later, people started to trickle out. I cleaned up what I could outside and then made my way into the house. Ryan’s voice echoed through the walls as I stood in the bathroom, brushing my teeth. I couldn't make out what he said, but the mumbling turned into loud moans and then an occasional scream. I was used to it, but I was also used to it coming through the walls from his side of the house and not necessarily from my guest room. Unfortunately, I had heard his lady friends and their noises so often that sometimes I could tell who he was with. I doubted there was a place on the property that he hadn't bagged one of them. Once, when the screams had come from my shop, I put my foot down. I thought back to the conversation.
“No more in the shop, dude. I don't want my stuff getting messed up.”
“Man, she was hot! And then she bent over your tool bench, ass in the air.”
“Don't do it again,” I’d commanded.
“It was almost primal, man. It smelled like fresh cut wood out there, and I tried to convince her to take it against a tree but she wanted to do it in there... so we did. What was I going to tell her? No?”
“Yeah, that's exactly what you were supposed to tell her. No! That's my office, dude.”
“Okay, okay, sorry. Did I tell you how hot she was?” Ryan laughed and slapped me on the shoulder.
I shook my head remembering that conversation. I knew I was the stick in the mud in our tandem. I was the wing man, and he was the pilot. And everyone knows the pilot gets all the girls. I halfway expected he’d have the girl next door before it was all said and done.
***
An entire week passed without any interaction between Emmy and me. I rarely saw her, and when I did, it was only for a brief moment as she passed by the window of my shop heading out into the woods as she did every day. She was normally gone about an hour or so at roughly the same time every day. I considered telling her to be on the lookout for bears and mountain lions since there had been a few spotted in the area over the last few years, but after the response I got sharing information regarding other local stuff, I wasn’t about to make that mistake again. Besides, she seemed to be a pretty smart girl. I figured she probably already knew and would take precautions, but I kept an eye out for her return each day just in case.
One afternoon as I was washing ou
t one of my stain trays by the side of the shop, she came walking quickly from the woods. She didn't look frightened, but she was moving as fast as she could without actually running. She sped past me never slowing or acknowledging me and headed straight to the house.