“Meeting the friends is always nerve-wracking,” she replied. “Especially when they double as family.”
Reece chuckled and squeezed her hand. “You’re automatically smarter than he is. Keep that in mind.”
Bailey giggled and took a swig of beer.
“Not your usual girly drink tonight?” Reece observed.
“I wanna show Camden that I’m a ‘cool girl,’” she explained.
Reece nodded.
“You know,” Bailey went on, “I can hang with the guys and drink beer and talk about guy stuff.” She took another sip.
Reece studied her for a moment. “You really wanted a martini, didn’t you?”
“God, yes,” Bailey replied, and he burst out laughing.
They sat in the corner of the bar at The Blue Post waiting for Camden to arrive. He told Reece he was “dying” to meet Bailey, and his enthusiasm worried Reece the slightest bit. He warned Camden not to say anything inappropriate and to steer clear of the OCD topic.
“But what if she brings it up?” Camden asked.
“She won’t bring it up,” Reece countered.
“But what if she does?”
“Camden, people don’t introduce themselves and then add, ‘Oh, and by the way, I have a mental disorder.’”
“They don’t have to. It’s evident,” Camden mumbled.
“Stop being a jackass. And don’t stare at her or anything. Don’t try to figure out her tics.”
Camden waved him off.
“I’m serious, man! The only reason I’m introducing you is because you’re the closest thing to family I’ve got,” Reece said.
“Aww.” Camden held out his arms. “Come here, buddy. Let’s go. Get over here. It’s hug time. Hug time for this guy right here.”
“Asshole.”
Reece turned to Bailey. “Hmm?”
“Great,” she replied. “We’re already in that stage of our relationship? You don’t listen to me anymore?”
Reece shook his head. “Sorry. I was thinking about my doofus friend.” He scanned the bar then turned back to his girlfriend. “You know what? Maybe I oughta call him and tell him to forget it. Some other time, huh?”
Bailey frowned. “But I curled my hair. And that mess takes forever.”
Reece looked her over. She had curled her hair, and he learned what a big deal that was for women who live in humid climates—lots of time and hair product. And the curls would still fall out. So why bother, he wanted to know?
Bailey held up a chunk of her hair. “Look at this! The curls are already going!”
“You’re right,” Reece said. “I’m sorry. You’ll meet him.”
His voice conjured Camden, who stood in the doorway searching for them.
“Camden!” Reece called.
Bailey smoothed her hair and adjusted her sweater.
“What’s happening, man?” Camden asked, clasping Reece’s hand. He turned to Bailey and opened his arms. “Get over here, you.”
Bailey grinned and hopped off the bar stool. She walked into this stranger’s arms and let him squeeze her like a stuffed animal.
“Oh, wow,” Bailey said. She laughed. “Now that’s a ‘Nice to meet you.’”
“I’m not a pretender,” Camden replied pleasantly, pulling away. “You know what I mean? This here?”—He ran his finger up and down the front of his body—“This can’t pretend.”
Reece rolled his eyes.
“I’m just so happy for my loser friend,” Camden went on, gripping the back of Reece’s neck and squeezing tightly. “He’s been on Cloud Nine since he met you.”
Bailey blushed.
“Awww, don’t you get all nervous about it!” Camden exclaimed, pinching her cheek.
Bailey was reminded of Vince Vaughn’s character in Swingers. That was Camden. A sarcastic douchebag talker. She liked him immediately.
Reece swatted Camden’s hand away. “You done?”
“What’s the lady drinking?” Camden asked, ignoring his friend.
Bailey held up her beer.
Camden ordered her another and one for himself. He forgot all about Reece.
They moseyed to the back of the bar where an air hockey table awaited them.
“Oh good!” Bailey squealed. “No line.”
“You play air hockey?” Reece asked.
“Sort of,” Bailey replied. “You wanna go to the bar and ask for the pucks?”
Reece hesitated, unsure if he ought to leave Bailey alone with Camden.
“It’s okay,” she said softly, squeezing his hand.
Reece left, giving Bailey a few minutes to study his friend. He was tall like Reece, with short black hair and light blue eyes that darted around the room, no doubt looking for “beautiful babies.” Everything about his body was angular, and if he didn’t have such a personable nature, he may come off too severe or even frightening. He was obviously a fan of Pearl Jam. He wore a concert T-shirt from 1994.
“Wimpy ballad rock,” Bailey noted.
“Huh?” Camden replied.
“Their new stuff,” she said, pointing at his T-shirt.
“You’re crazy, right?”
“That’s what they tell me,” Bailey replied, winking.
Camden’s eyes went wide.
“Oh, no! I wasn’t referring to your . . . you know. That thing you have.”
“My OCD?” she asked.
“OCD? What OCD? Who’s got OCD?”
Bailey laughed. “I’m just playing around with you. And I have OCD. And you know I have OCD.”
“How?”
“Because I know you think I count—” She paused and grinned. “—when I bounce on it.”
Reece appeared at that exact moment, and Camden turned on him.
“Dude! You’re like a girl with the talky-talky!”
“What?”
Bailey burst out laughing.
“The counting and the bouncing, you asshole!” Camden said.
Reece stared at Bailey. “You mentioned that?”
She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t catch her breath.
“I’m gone for, like, a minute, and this is what you two are talking about?” Reece said.
Camden threw up his hands. “Hey man, that’s all your girlfriend over there.”
“Oh, please,” Bailey replied. “I know you’re thinking about all the weird shit I do. Go on and ask me already.”
Camden studied her face. “Are you serious about that?”
“Bailey, no. Camden, no.”
“Sure,” Bailey said, ignoring her boyfriend. “Ask me anything you want. Or better yet, you can ask me a question every time you score on me.”
Camden grinned. “That sounds fun.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Reece argued.