“What the hell is so funny?” I ask.
Jenna answers, still half-snorting. “Never mind about Louise. But you,” gone is the laughter in an instant as her gaze pinpoints me, “need to keep it in your pants. I’m tired of every time women realize I’m your sister they give me that Your brother is a jackass comment.”
“Would you rather it be like back when I used to come home from college and all the girls would talk about how dreamy I was?” I smirk.
“Dreamy, skeevy.” She shudders while shaking her head.
“That doesn’t rhyme,” I add.
“Doesn’t matter. Thinking about you and all your shenanigans creeps me out. You can’t imagine the earful I got from Karen.”
Cate perks up. “Oh, do tell.”
“You wouldn’t believe.” Jenna tells her a story that could only come from Karen’s deluded ideas about us. I listen as she leaves out the cancer part which only makes me sound like a bigger ass. However, I allow my sister to make jokes at my expense because it makes Cate laugh. And I feel like I’m doing right by Drew when she smiles.
“The Money Man is a Man Whore. Ben, you really need to settle down,” Cate says, patting my arm.
Jenna, on the Ben’s-a-bad-boy train, continues on. “Maybe we should shorten that to Money Man Whore. It’s got a ring to it.”
The girls continue on in a fit of laughter.
By the time I get home, Dad’s gone. I pour myself a drink while glancing at my phone, considering making a call so I can lose myself in pussy. But as I scroll, Samantha’s name glares at me.
My finger hovers over the screen. I have a way with words, or so I’ve been told. I could possibly get her over to my house. Who knows, I could even get her out of her clothes and see what she’s rocking underneath, which is exactly what I need.
But there is something about her. And it’s clear she isn’t one-night stand material. That should scare me off, especially since I just pissed off Karen enough that she thought she was the one leaving me.
Fuck, I mutter, mentally swiping left over the pictures of the women I could call. Only Samantha’s face continues to pop in my head and my dick jerks. Fuck me.
I pour myself another three fingers. It’s Saturday night and I can’t remember the last time I spent one alone. Normally, I would be balls deep in a willing woman. Instead, I’m suddenly not interested in any pussy that doesn’t have Samantha’s name on it, which feels like some middle school shit.
By the next day, I decide I need to get her out of my head. I have my regular Sunday dinner plans later with the family, but I have nothing going on until then. And I find myself pulling out my phone hoping I’m not making a mistake.
When she answers, my dick leaps to life.
“Hey Samantha, it’s Ben.”
“Oh, hey, Ben. How are you?”
I want to ride you like a bull doesn’t seem like the perfect response.
“I wondered what you were doing for lunch?”
She’s quiet and I hope to hell she doesn’t tell me she’s got plans with some other guy.
“Um—”
“I’m headed to Husk and maybe you’ll have pity on me and not let me eat alone. I know we said tomorrow night, but why wait?”
The well-known restaurant is centrally located downtown in a historic building. Her pause is long and I feel thirteen again, desperate to see a girl. Monday is a bust since I was going to break our date, and besides, I want to see her sooner.
“Sure, that sounds great. When should I meet you?”
“Is one o’clock good? I can pick you up if you like.”
“No, it’s not far from me. I can meet you.”
“Great, I’ll see you there.”
After I hang up the phone, I realize something about this woman throws me off my game. I want her in my bed, yes. But she’s different. I have a feeling my winning smile and usual lines won’t work with her.
I find myself at a shop literally smelling the roses and have no idea what possessed me to come here. I’ve only ever bought flowers for my mother except when I was in high school and thought I was in love with a girl who led me around by my balls. After that failed relationship, I learned not to be a pussy if I wanted pussy. That girl chose a fucktard over me, some guy who treated her like dirt. That was my first lesson I needed in Nice Guys Always Lose. Case in point as my phone buzzes again with another incoming text from Karen. I hit ignore when a sales clerk comes over.
“Can I help you?”