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I grabbed my coat, squeezed back into my shoes, and flitted through the door without even changing. If I didn’t get there fast, one of them might pick the movie.
And then the night might be a total loss.
~ 7 ~
ARIANA
“So where exactly would you say the date went wrong?”
Tyler asked the question as he topped off my wine, bringing the glass to within a half-inch of being totally full. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was trying to get me drunk, and maybe he even was. But best friends tended to pour heavy when commiserating, especially over bad dates.
“The turning point?” I asked.
“Sure,” Axel chimed in. “We’re looking for the precise jump-the-shark moment.”
I was stretched out on the couch, legs up, feet tucked beneath me. I’d ditched my pretty dress an hour ago, when Tyler had offered me a pair of comfy sweatpants. Right now it was hanging in his closet, just above my favorite shoes.
“I can’t put my finger on it, really,” I admitted. “I mean the restaurant was nice, and the food was good. The conversation was… well…”
“Garth-ish?” Zane smirked apologetically at his own comment. I frowned at him.
“Sorry. Please continue.”
I was pleasantly buzzed now, all warm and cozy and feeling no pain. It wasn’t like that earlier, though. Less than two hours ago I’d left my apartment still breathless and horny, angry at my choice in men. Or in this particular case, their choice in me.
Now however I was resting comfortably in the open loft studio apartment shared by Axel and Tyler. The place was downright cavernous, with beds on either side, a full kitchen on one wall, and a living area in the middle. It was totally decked out like a bachelor pad, though. There were clothes everywhere, alongside hockey sticks, pads, gloves, and countless years’ worth of gear. Decades of trophies and medals spanning back to childhood lined the walls. It looked exactly like two kids lived here that never had to grow up.
“I guess we really didn’t talk about much,” I admitted finally. “Hockey, mostly.”
“What’s he do for a living?”
I stared up at the ceiling for a few floundering seconds. Eventually I shrugged.
“Shit, I don’t even know.”
“Did he at least ask what you do?”`
“I… I think so?” I sipped my wine, totally unsure. “I mean, what’s the difference? It’s not like being a barista is all that interesting anyway.”
Tyler shook his head at me. “Ariana you’re an artist. You draw, you sketch, you paint. You go to school for these things.”
“Not to mention all the amazing spurting dicks you create with latte art,” Zane added.
“Dicks with balls even,” Axel jumped in. “Incredibly detailed balls.”
I smiled and raised my glass at him. He winked one gorgeous eye back at me.
“Once I even saw you draw a girl being bent over a—”
“Okay, okay,” I chuckled. “I guess I’m pretty good at latte art. But it’s not like I have any of it lying around to show anyone. Other than on my Instagram, that is.”
The screen across the room flickered, garnering my attention. The movie playing on their oversized TV was Groundhog Day, a rom-com classic. I’d picked it as a guy-approved compromise between Tropic Thunder and a more sappy, girlie flick. But considering how many failed dates I’d had in a row, I was wondering if there were more subconscious reasons for my choice.
“Where’s Lexus tonight?” I asked all of a sudden. Tyler and his girlfriend were usually glued at the hip.
“She went to bed early,” Tyler answered. “She’s been doing that a lot lately. Her new job is exhausting.”
I couldn’t even remotely hide my shock. I half sat-up.
