Page 24 of Tanner

She set out last night, looking for a guy to help her get over her ex-boyfriend. Looks like she got what she wanted.

Good for you, Harper. I hope you find what you’re looking for.

I kick a plastic bottle sitting on the floor and head to the shower to wash off the last bit of my muse. I watch it run down the drain, never to be seen again, just like her.

* * *

I open the door to the small, locally owned coffee shop around the corner from Columbia University and see Chris’s hungover face sitting in a corner table. Ryan is next to him, reading The New York Times.

I grab a coffee and a bagel before heading in their direction. We clap hands in our usual greeting as I sit down, pushing back on my chair to lift the front half off the ground.

“You get your dick wet last night?” Chris asks.

He knows I don’t normally share, so I shrug—not really saying no, but not saying yes either.

“Don’t mind him. He’s mad he went home stag last night,” Ryan says as he closes the paper.

“What happened to you?” I ask Chris, motioning toward the dark circles under his eyes and the hood he has pulled over half his head.

“Tequila,” Ryan explains. “And a four-hundred-dollar bar tab.”

I whistle through my teeth.

“Someone was supposed to buy last night—until he bailed,” Chris drawls.

I lean forward with a thud as the legs of my seat hit the ground. I take a sip of coffee and brace myself for the questions.

“One minute, I was talking to that hot lawyer, and the next thing I saw was you making out with her friend,” Ryan states.

“And then you just left!” Chris’s hands are up in the air in exasperation. “She took off after you. It was classic!”

I unwrap my bagel, tearing the two pieces apart and avoiding his remarks.

Chris narrows his eyes and leans in. “What? Did she turn psycho? Did you get in her pants, only to realize she had a full bush? You know”—he points an accusatory finger at me—“she was a little older than us. Women her age don’t always believe in the go bare or go home motto.”

I almost choke on my bagel. “Did you really just say that?”

“Yes, I did. And it’s a thing.” His eyebrows rise as he nods, sure he is speaking the truth.

Ryan shakes his head. “You’re such a douche sometimes.”

Chris continues, “Fuck, man, I’m sorry. That’s it, isn’t it? Don’t worry, bro; I don’t think I could go there either. All that hair, getting all over the place and in your teeth—”

“Please, I’m trying to eat here. And that’s not it. She was bare and beautiful,” I say.

Ryan’s eyes widen behind his glasses. “Did we just get confirmation from the great Tanner Sexton that he got some last night?”

“No, actually, you didn’t,” I growl.

Chris gnaws on his bagel while Ryan sits back in his chair, appraising me. “She did the Irish exit.”

I glare at him before turning my head to look out the window.

Chris’s head pops up with a chuckle, and then he sees my face. He drops his bagel. “No way! She did the duvet wiggle?”

I give him a look that says, Shut the fuck up.

“Are you serious right now? Someone actually walked out on you? You. Tanner Sexton.” Chris laughs out loud. “Damn, that girl won the fucking lottery and didn’t even know it.”