Here’s her address. I told her you could be there around eleven.
Shit! I have all of fifteen minutes to get out of here if I’m going to be on time—on time to fix a computer when I barely know much more than how to turn it on. How did one trivial white lie cause all these others? Everything is beginning to feel as if it is spiraling out of control?
I have no idea how to fix any of this. I just know it’s going to blow up on me and probably sooner rather than later. This is going to be bad. You can’t fake this profession, at least I can’t. It will be a miracle if Lee’s friend doesn’t out me for being a complete fake.
I curse under my breath. I really like Lee and this shit may cost me my chance to make her mine… forever.
Nine
Lee
It’s been a stressful week. Both heaven and hell having Eugene in my house. Our attraction has only grown, and I feel like I’m going insane. Currently, I’m trying to unwind at Tap-Shelf, a place downtown Denise loves. She basically resorted to blackmail to get me to come out with her tonight. I knew it was coming. She keeps asking more and more questions about Eugene and as a result, my texts have gone from detailed to cryptic. I know she wants to know why.
I’ve been avoiding it because I don’t know what to say. She’s my best friend, and I love her. Still she’s killing me. She texts me every night to see if I’ve slept with Eugene yet. I don’t need a reminder that I want him but won’t allow myself to make that move. It’s slowly killing me—especially after the steamy kisses we’ve shared.
I thought she might give me a break tonight and help me unwind, since she knows how miserable I am.
I should have known better.
“Why are you not just going for it then?” Denise asks, baffled that I haven’t let Eugene get past second base. A very short lived second base. “If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t need to be asked twice to do the four-legged fox trot, if you know what I mean.”
“Four-legged fox trot, Denise?” I asked, completely caught off guard by her euphemism, but still not surprised at all. “Is that what people are calling it these days?” I ask her, laughing. Leave it to her to be so blunt about it.
“Shaking the sheets? Pelvic pinochle?” she asks, “Are those better?” She laughs as each one makes my eyes widen. “You know what I mean, Lee. You guys want each other. Plain and simple. Hell, even I can feel the heat wafting from you every time you talk about him. What’s honestly holding you back?”
“I got him an I.T. job fixing a friend’s computer. He literally caused it to catch on fire, ruining the whole system and scorching her desk. He had to have lied about being a computer geek. That means he doesn’t have a house, a job, and lied on his application. He’s hot—” She holds up her hand to stop me, giving me the look. I sigh. “Okay,” I mumble. “So, he’s more than hot.”
“Amen,” she laughs.
“But, Denise, if I start dating him, I’m just following the pattern that led me to finding a date using Seeking Curves anyways. I’m like a beacon for men who never want to grow up.”
“First of all, there’s always solutions to those problems. But I think there’s only two that fit this particular situation.” Denise shrugs. I’m thankful she has ideas because I’m fresh out.
“What are they? I’m tired of thinking about it,” I complain, rubbing my temples, trying to stave off the headache that wants to form.
Did I mention that I really don’t want to be here tonight?
I’m praying she actually has two solutions, and I can just pick one. Maybe then, my life will be simpler. I don’t have much hope, however. Denise and I have been friends for a while and her suggestions are always completely off the wall. I know I’m attracted to Eugene, but I didn’t sign up with a high-end dating agency just to find another mess to try and clean up. I’m like a loser magnet and that’s why I’ve never been in love. The only difference I’m finding so far with Eugene is that he’s a sexier, hotter, mess that I want more than my next breath.
Damn it.
“You could go back to Seeking Curves, asking to be matched again,” she says between bites of her straw. She’s already sucked her drink down, making obnoxious slurping noises as she watches me think it over.
“I’m not sure about that one. I’m starting to think relationships aren’t for me. What’s the other option?”
“You have your own money with owning your own business. You don’t need someone to take care of you because you’re badass. You have everything he supposedly doesn’t, right? That means Eugene must check the other must have boxes that you put on your dating list. The one thing no woman wants to take care of herself or would enjoy more having someone as good looking as him to handle for her.”