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“Damn, what’s got your panties in a wad?” he joked.
“It’s been a shit day.”
“Work or women?” he asked.
“Women at work,” I muttered.
“Have anything to do with the hot stuff you were tonguing on the cover of the newspaper?”
“Fuck you. I wasn’t tonguing her. I didn’t even fucking kiss her. Our lips never touched. I swear I’m going to sue the shit out of that asshole.”
“Okay, you’re spiraling,” he said. “Let’s go to the batting cages. You need to hit some balls. If that doesn’t work, you can take the bat and beat the shit out of whatever gets in your way.”
I could go home and sulk or I could go swing out some frustration. “I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”
I drove to the batting cages and went directly inside one of them. I had hit about thirty balls before Dane showed up. I swung, smacking the ball and sending it flying into the net.
“Shit, that would have been a homerun,” he said from the next cage over.
The bat cracked against another ball. “I’m pretending it’s a reporter’s face.”
He nodded. “I knew that woman was going to be the death of you, but I thought it would be the death of your bachelorhood, not whatever the hell this is.”
“I’m just working through some things. Now shut up and hit some balls.”
We hit another basket before calling it good. My arms felt like jelly, but I did feel like I worked out some of my restless energy. We walked across the street to grab some beer and nachos.
“So, you didn’t kiss the woman in the photo, but your other woman doesn’t believe it,” he said. “Do I have it right?”
“Pretty much,” I said. “She’s pissed at me. Hell, I don’t even know if she’s pissed. She might be relieved.”
“How so?” he asked.
“She won’t talk to me,” I said. “She talks to me for work stuff, but she will barely look at me. I can’t tell if she hates me or is just glad I’m no longer in her life. It’s like we are strangers. There is nothing there. There’s nothing behind her eyes. Just nothing.”
“I dated a woman a long time ago that had the ability to look right through you when she was pissed,” he said.
I nodded. “Yes! That’s what it was like. It was as if I was transparent. I have never felt so insignificant. Never!”
“She’s pissed,” he said. “You’ve got to do some serious groveling.”
“How?” I asked. “She won’t look at me or talk to me. I apologized. I told her it wasn’t true. I don’t know how else to make her understand there was never anything there. She’s acting like I banged the woman in the middle of the lobby!”
“Does that mean the two of you made it official?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Now you sound like my mom.”
He groaned. “Dude, seriously? You never told her you wanted to be with her?”
“I assumed she knew,” I said. “And I didn’t want to make it official without feeling out the situation.”
He clucked his tongue. “You really suck at this relationship thing. I’m not an expert, but even I know women want to have that conversation. They want to know where they stand in your life. They want to know if they can start picking out the China patterns and planning the wedding.”
“Everyone tells me this now,” I complained. “Where were you all a week ago when I actually needed this advice? You’re all about a day late and a dollar short.”
“Do you love her?” he asked.
“Yes.”
