Page 16 of Pay the Piper

Maybe I’m making something out of nothing, and it’s just the natural thing for me to do with all the pent-up energy I have these days. I’m so used to being needed, even if it is co-dependent, that I’m trying to latch on to the first woman I come into close contact with who’s unattached.

If she is unattached.

At that thought, every muscle in my body tenses. I didn’t even think to ask Abby if she was single before I asked her out for ice cream. She wasn’t wearing a ring, but plenty of people don’t these days. And that’s not exactly the kind of thing you ask someone you just met, let alone in a professional setting. I swear I saw her body respond to mine when we touched, although I suppose being in a relationship might not always stop the body’s basest instincts.

That unknown at least gives me a purpose. I can find out a bit more about Abby. Intel settles me like nothing else, and even though I trusted Ellie to vet her before proposing her as a skating coach, pursuing her romantically is an entirely different proposition.

As I rise from the world’s least relaxing bath, Lord Quackington offers his final opinion, judging me for my half-hard cock thinking about a woman who might not even be available. Moving to the shower, I ignore the subtle throb and wash my hair, groaning as I realize what I’m going to have to do.

Ask the only men I know a question that’s sure to create more problems than it solves.

Before I can filter it, the question escapes the part of my brain I try to keep to myself. “How did you guys feel when you met Ellie and Mila?”

Teddy stops rustling through his bag, Thatcher pauses from reaching across the table for Gabri’s abandoned hummus, and Nikki tilts his head at me like an inquisitive Doberman. Okay, I guess that question came out of left field. Still, it’s an introspective kind of evening. My bloodlust is satiated for the moment after ridding the earth of the worst kind of vermin. I’m full of meat, and I’d love nothing more than to be heading home to a good twelve-hour fuck. Or twelve hours staring at Abby while she sleeps. Besides, that’s one of the reasons Mila dropped me here in Thunder Bay. Might as well collect all the intel I can from the other members of the “Justice-ish League,” as Thatcher has taken to calling the five of us.

Thatcher recovers first, breaking the awkward silence to answer. “It was an instant attraction to her power, man. She was so tall, and she looked so deadly. I could tell she didn’t want anyone to approach her, and her entire demeanor was ‘don’t fuck with me.’ I started following her around and never stopped.”

“There was a light behind Ellie, framing her curls. She looked like an angel, and I swear when I felt her skin on mine for the first time, I thought I’d been shocked. Then she started talking about babies, and I noticed her hips—”

Gabri’s grunt cuts off Teddy’s ode to Ellie’s curves, and Nikki chimes in unexpectedly.

“You’ll know when you meet her, Misha,” he says quietly. “Whether it’s when you see her or when she speaks, you’ll feel your heart shift into something that only beats in rhythm when she’s around. It might be that you see her all the time and can bask in her presence, or if not, you’ll be unable to think of anyone or anything else. Everything will remind you of her, whether it’s her favorite flower or a food she hates, and you’ll find yourself turning to reference an inside joke the two of you share even if she isn’t beside you. Your future, when you imagine it, only exists with her in it. She’s the centerpiece of your life in your dreams, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your wife, the mother of your children, your travel partner, the person by your side when the entire world is against you. It’s all her, man. And you’ll feel it, I promise.”

The silence returns, amplified now as we all turn to Nikki with various questions in our eyes. Gabri grunts and leaves, speeding off into the night after paying for our dinner at the hostess stand.

“Or, uh…I would think it would be like that. You know. In the movies, it’s…” Nikki trails off, answering none of our unspoken questions and making puppy dog eyes at Thatcher, begging to be rescued.

“Uhh. Okay. Well.” Thatcher tries but fails to save the situation, and I decide to ask another question that’s been on my mind.

“Once you guys knew they were the one, how did you manage…you know,” I sigh. “Being horny all the time. For her specifically.”

“Oh, I didn’t have to wait very long…Ow!” Teddy glares at Nikki, who shoots him the bird.

“Still my fucking little sister, asshole,” Nikki warns as Teddy rubs his leg under the table.

“I had to work pretty hard, I’d say,” Thatcher says. “I took a lot of showers and baths. It helps that I have a very active imagination, but a relaxing environment and plenty of soap suds went a long way to getting my frustration under control.”

Nikki perks up again at this, and Teddy sinks back into his chair, relieved to no longer be the center of his attention. “Yeah man, the possibilities are endless. It’s inevitable that once you know she’s the one, all your fantasies are going to look like her. But it might feel less creepy to be more…imaginative. Mental roleplay, you know? She’s a popstar, and you’re her bodyguard. She’s a princess, and you save her from an evil dragon.”

“She’s a princess, and you are the evil dragon,” Thatcher says, earning a shrug from Teddy and a sigh from Nikki.

“She’s your teammates’ baby sister,” Nikki continues, punching Teddy in the shoulder. “Or she’s married to your best friend, and you kill him.”

Nikki becomes the center of our attention again, but he shrugs it off. “What? I told you, you need an active imagination. There’s no fucking telling what Thatcher’s mental list of scenarios is.”

“I assure you guys, every one of my imagined fantasies has been replaced by a memory, thank you very much. Last night, I lit candles—”

“You aren’t supposed to have those!” Teddy tries to scold Thatcher, but he soldiers on.

“And the wax started to melt, so I used that to—”

“I think I’ll consider the princess one, thanks,” I say, hoping to save Teddy any more embarrassment from hearing about Mila’s exploits with Thatcher. I’ve seen and heard everything she’s into, so I couldn’t care less, but I know Teddy views her more and more as a sister as they get to know each other better.

“Just try to find yourself a little movie online with a main character who looks like your girl, you know?” Nikki concludes, packing up our leftovers and adding to the tip Gabri left on the table earlier.

“There’s not a girl. It’s purely hypothetical. I was just thinking about the Romans, and—”

“Okay, so there’s not a girl. But if there was, and she was, say, a blonde…You could find yourself a little something with a blonde damsel in distress and use that scene for inspiration.”