Chronicles of a Serial Dater - Book 3: A New Adult Romantic Comedy Read online

  “Kind of, I guess,” I squinted at him.

  “And what about the idea of a friend with benefits?” he asked, his question dripping with fake innocence.

  The memory of him looming close to me that night, his suggestion that we could possibly enter into some sexual arrangement…

  “Zach, I wouldn’t want to do anything that’d hurt our friendship, you have to…”

  Zach’s expression shifted slightly. Even drunk, I could hear the implication in his voice. After he’d dropped the idea of a friends-with-benefits situation in my lap, it was hard not to think about. But whenever I allowed myself to go down that path, it always ended up in the same place; fear of losing him as a friend.

  I twisted around and rested both elbows on the bar, trying to ignore the strange tingle in my body. I couldn’t tell if it was from the excessive free alcohol or something more.

  “It’s dangerous.”

  “Maybe it isn’t. Just think for a moment. If a couple of friends were young and single and going into it with good intentions, it should be okay. And say these friends decided to make this arrangement, they’d have to lay out some rules first,” he ventured, eyes still forward. “Obviously.”

  “Obviously,” I repeated. “Like what kind of rules?”

  “Well, and I’m just thinking off the top of my head here…”

  “Of course,” I said, covering my smile with another sip of vodka. This was all too exciting and arousing.

  “No spending the night after sex.”

  “Right, yeah, of course,” I snorted. “That makes complete sense. What about the friends of these friends? They probably have a few particularly nosy, opinionated friends that will find the arrangement weird. What about those kinds of friends?” I asked with emphasis. I was really enjoying the covert conversation, dancing around the topic felt like foreplay.

  “They can’t know. It’d be better to keep it a secret,” Zach said quickly.

  “But if it’s not a big deal…” I frowned.

  “Still, it should only be between the two of them, don’t you think?” We locked gazes from the corner of our eyes and a tingle shot down my spine.

  “Yeah, right. It’s private.”

  “Even though they’re just friends.”

  “Right.”

  The sexual tension rose almost exponentially with each rule. These fictitious friends we were arranging this for seemed to be getting a pretty damn good deal. Friendship, still allowed to date other people without worrying, sex without strings. As we spoke, we physically drew closer and closer together. A brush of the hand here, an accidental knee against a leg there.

  “Just think about it for a second. These friends, who have known and trusted each other for years, can be completely open and honest with each other. Things they like, things they don’t, positions, kinks,” he added, with a little smirk.

  I broke the spell, unable to control myself any longer in this drunken state. “So help me, if you pull out a ball gag or something…”

  My breath hitched in my throat as I realized I’d shattered the illusion. No mysterious, ghostly “friends.” Us. Zach and Talia. Our eyes locked and I’m pretty sure if we hadn’t been at the bar in plain view of Anette, we would’ve kissed right there.

  Zach turned and rested his foot on my stool, his leg hot against my thigh. In the cloak of darkness, his hand rested on my knee. “No sleepovers, no jealousy, no strings. If we’re both in the mood, we’ll arrange it by text and sneak away when Anette isn’t around.”

  I let out a shuddering breath. With my brain subdued by booze, my body was free to explore this idea without much restraint… and I wanted it badly. Still, a voice in the back of my mind warned me. You’re playing with fire. The music was getting progressively louder, forcing us to lean closer to talk.

  “We aren’t exactly the first people in the world to try this,” I said into his ear.

  He studied my face before leaning in and replying. His cheek brushed against mine, the scent of his cologne so delicious my eyes rolled into the back of my head. “This is us we’re talking about. We got this.”

  “I just don’t want to hurt you… or get hurt,” I said without thinking.

  Zach grabbed both my hands and stared deep into my eyes. My heart thudded against my chest. Oh God, he’s gonna kiss me. Holy shit, he’s gonna…

  “I will never hurt you, Talia. If anyone in this world can do this, it’s us.”

  I nodded, the truth of his words sinking in, coated with a generous helping of vodka. “Yeah, totally. So, uh, when should start?” I asked, hoping he’d say tonight.

  “Well, I can pretend to go out for a smoke and then you follow a few minutes later. I’ll meet you at my apartment and…”

  The moment was broken by Anette jumping in front of us on the other side of the bar. “What the hell is going on here?” she exclaimed. We both jumped back in surprise, looking as guilty as a pair caught arranging a secret sexual relationship. “Gah! I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re practically boinking on the bar!”

  My heart froze. My mouth went dry. I couldn’t figure out how she’d managed to catch us before we’d even gotten a chance to kiss. Oh my God… I’m going to kiss Zach… my drunk brain trailed off.

  “I’m kidding…” Anette said, looking between us like we’d suddenly suffered brain damage.

  “Of course.” Zach recovered quickly. “Pfft. Talia can do so much better,” he said dropping my hands, keeping them from Anette’s line of sight. “Actually, we’re sobering up over here, so if you don’t mind…”

  “No can do. I’m off early, so I’m here to close your tab,” she said with two obvious winks. “And after I cash out my drawer, I can join you!”

  “Great,” I replied with as much cheer as I could muster.

  After Anette took his card to fake-swipe, Zach and I glanced at each other and burst into laughter. “Well, so much for tonight,” I giggled.

  “I can’t believe she just freakin’ cock-blocked me,” he said, shooting a fake glare down the bar at Anette.

  “Well, me too! Wait, not cock-block. What’s a girl version?”

  “Box out?”

  “Oh, good! What about… clam dam!”

  “Twat swat?”

  “Oh my God,” I exclaimed, doubling over in laughter. “I thought she’d figured it all out!”

  “Me too. We gotta be careful. We can’t go breaking rules before we’ve even started,” he smirked, making my legs go all quivery. “I’m gonna need time to figure out what makes Talia tick.”

  Leave it to Anette to be completely freaking oblivious to the sexual tension between me and Zach. Just as we were putting on the final touches to our “friends who touch each other’s privates” rule book, she literally wedged herself between us.

  “Did you see Amie in here earlier? Or did she leave before you guys got here?” she asked as she twirled the little red straw in her drink.

  “Uh, no. Didn’t see her,” I replied, my gaze flicking to Zach’s. It was strange to have that kind of desire and heat directed toward me. Wave after wave of realizations crashed over me. Zach and I are going to screw. Zach. Sexy, sitting right there, Zach.

  Anette threw her head back and groaned. “Ugh. She’s so amazing. Absolutely amazing. She was wearing this top that looked painted on. Just, ba-boom,” she exclaimed holding her hands out in front of her chest. She elbowed Zach and gave him a sleazy grin. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  He blinked at her a couple times, obviously not listening. He glanced down at her impression of Dolly Parton tits and nodded. “Oh yeah, definitely.”

  Anette chewed on the straw and looked thoughtfully at the row of liquor bottles on the back of the wall. “It’s not that she’s just panty-soaking hot, either. She’s such a sweet person, but in a way she doesn’t realize she’s being so sweet, you know?”

  For the next ten minutes, we let Anette gush about Amie, the girl she’d been pining after for a few months n
ow. Our only participation was the occasional nod or vague comment. Instead, we were carrying on our own non-verbal conversation.

  When she moved to look into the crowd, Zach took the opportunity to physically pull my stool closer to him. He subtly shifted his arm behind me onto the bar and kept still as she turned back. Anette was so fully self-absorbed, she didn’t even notice I was a full foot to the left.

  “Sorry, thought I heard her voice. Anyway, enough about me. How was your date with the war hero?”

  Oh my God, that was tonight? I thought. With everything that’d happened between me and Zach, that date was so far in my rear-view mirror it could’ve been in Canada.

  “Well, you know. Not the greatest,” I started, fighting through the cloud of alcohol and arousal to remember what the guy had even done. But in a flash it came back to me and I knew I had to share this one with her. “Oh, get this. First of all, he doesn’t actually use a wheelchair. He just says he does. It’s apparently a test he uses on girls to find out how shallow they are.”

  Anette screwed her face up like she’d walked past an open sewer. “That’s sleazy. You didn’t walk out right then and there?”

  I looked skyward, trying to recall why I hadn’t. “Honestly, the way he explained it at the time seemed perfectly reasonable. He was really…” My voice squeaked as my thought trailed off. In the cloak of darkness, Zach’s fingers had begun tracing light circles across the bare skin on my back. My brain couldn’t handle the sensation and speaking at the same time.

  “He was really…” Anette repeated, looking at me oddly.

  “Uh, he was… normal! He seemed normal,” I managed to get out. The heat from Zach’s hand was pulling any rational thought from my mind.

  Anette frowned and studied me closely. “Doesn’t sound very normal to me. So, you’re not gonna see him again?”

  “No, definitely not.”

  “And what about you, studmuffin? You’ve been on a few dates lately. Any catches?”

  Zach spoke as his index finger snaked up the center of my neck into my hair, splashing a wave of shivers across my skin. “Not really. You know me, never looking for anything serious.”

  “And that’s exactly how it should be,” Anette declared, pointing a finger at both of us. “We’re young! We shouldn’t be worried about settling down, wasting the prime years of our life on one person. We should be whoring ourselves out, sampling from the buffet of bodies.”

  “Amen,” Zach laughed, lifting his glass in a salute before taking a sip. He met my eye over the rim and I had to quickly look away before I melted on the spot.

  “I need to pee,” she abruptly declared and walked away.

  The moment she disappeared into the crowd, Zach moved in on me. He made it look casual and platonic, a friend leaning in to talk into another friend’s ear, but it was so much more. With his left hand moving from my neck, down my arm, and around to the small of my back, he drew close.

  “What do you think the chances are we can ditch her and get back to my place without her knowing?” His lips grazed my ear, breath hot on my skin.

  A tightness grew in my throat at the anticipation. “Slim to none.”

  He moved his hand lower, shifting under the thin fabric of my shirt to reach bare skin. I arched my back, mouth opening a fraction as I looked deep into his eyes. He quickly dipped his head to my ear to cover my reaction. “You sure you can’t come up with anything?”

  At this point, I was running purely on instinct. My eyes traveled to the right, focusing on the bulge between his legs. If we hadn’t been in a bar where we knew all the staff and half the customers, I would’ve jumped him then and there. Instead, I grabbed his hand from behind my back and slid off the stool.

  “Text her on the way to say we’re going for pizza or something, but be super vague and drunk about it. Then we can slip away and act like she must’ve just missed us.”

  To my surprise, Zach hung behind. “But that’ll only buy us a few minutes before she freaks out and tries to find us. You know how she is.”

  “It’ll be fine, come on,” I said, tugging him toward the door again. Instead, he gave me a strong tug back, pulling me as close as he could to his body without us actually touching.

  “It’s not fine. I want to take my time. The things I want to do to you will take hours, not minutes,” he breathed, staring at my mouth.

  My core tightened as I unconsciously bit my lip in response. In my drunken state, I briefly wondered if I might be able to sneak a kiss without anyone noticing. Before I had a chance to act, Anette reappeared.

  “I’m freakin’ beat. Let’s go home. And you,” she said, pointing a finger straight into my chest, “have the important job of keeping me away from Rob as we leave. Two times in a month with this sweet piece might just kill the man and I’m horny!”

  “I know what you mean,” I muttered.

  I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on and unsatisfied in my life. Walking those few blocks back to the apartment with Zach had my panties soaked with anticipation. He was so tantalizingly close, yet impossible to touch.

  Anette blabbed the entire way home, mostly about Amie. Out of horny irritation I nearly pointed out that she was contradicting herself almost in the same breath. One minute she was exclaiming how wonderful single life was but at the same time obviously expressing strong feelings for this girl. She was saying one thing, doing another, and worst of all, keeping me from getting laid.

  Zach lingered on the landing as Anette worked the key into the front door. “So, uh, you wanted to borrow that…” he started, scratching the back of his neck.

  I was slow to catch on but jumped right in with the ploy. “Right, the book!”

  “Yeah, I think I know where it is,” he grinned as I turned to follow him upstairs.

  Anette grabbed my wrist and pulled me away. “It’s nearly one in the morning,” she squinted.

  “So?” Please let me go upstairs. Please. If I have an ounce of mind control in me, please just do this one thing.

  “So? This is prime booty calling time. You gotta keep me locked down in case I try to text Amie,” she said as if it were the most obvious problem in the world. The look I gave Zach must’ve tipped her off something was up. “Wait a second…” My breath caught in my throat. We haven’t even had sex yet and she’s already figured it out, I thought, waiting for the axe to drop. “You own a book?” she joked.

  “Ha. Ha,” he replied dryly. I could hear my own disappointment echoed in his voice. But when he added, “I guess you can always get it tomorrow,” it was quickly replaced by excitement.

  “Yeah, yeah. Nighty night,” Anette called out as she pulled me into the apartment.

  I caught a glimpse of his broad smile just as the door clicked shut and cursed Anette silently in my head.

  I can’t tell you how many times that weekend Zach and I tried to sneak away. It got to the point I thought Anette must’ve known something was going on and was just messing with us. I’d hung out alone with him before without an issue, but the moment we wanted to be covert about it, she suddenly got all clingy. She also inconveniently had both Saturday and Sunday off, so we didn’t even have our normally scheduled few hours of peace.

  The secretive comments, accidental touches, and lingering looks from across the room really set my nerves on fire. I’d find myself studying his movements from the corner of my eye, the way he’d idly toy with his shoelace or rub his neck. I can’t be sure he was watching me as intently, but I played into the seduction myself. The heat helped explain away my skimpy outfits. I’d stroke a bottle of beer absentmindedly. I even made a show of nibbling on my pen while pretending to edit. I’m pretty sure I was successful with that one because he had to put a throw pillow over his lap for ten minutes.

  By Monday morning, I was so worked up and frustrated with the situation, I nearly orgasmed the moment I read Zach’s text. I’d been at work, hardly working, for three hours when it came through.

  I won an award
in high school for perfect attendance. I’d never called in sick to work let alone left early with a fake illness. But there’s always a first time.

  It’s amazing how fast your brain works when you’re whipping together a devious plot. I knew Lisa wouldn’t really care if I told her I was going home sick. It was Abi I had to worry about. She’d be snooping around for weeks trying to uncover the truth of it unless I was convincing. God, what am I gonna do?

  A plan fell into place, helped in part by the countless hours of movies and television I’d watched in my lifetime. After running through it a couple times, I realized it was foolproof, or at least Abi-proof. But first, I had to set the scene.

  With a practiced sick face, I ducked my head into her office and said I was going on a lunch run. “I’m not feeling very well. Maybe chicken soup will settle my stomach,” I said before asking if she wanted any. Of course she didn’t. I went down to the deli and got a small cup of the chunkiest Minestrone soup they had.

  Once upstairs, it just turned into a waiting game. Minutes ticked by until Abi finally walked past my door to get to the bathroom. I gave her a weak smile as she passed, making sure she saw me slowly eating. I counted to thirty in my head, grabbed the container, and rushed into the only other stall.

  After a few convincing retching sounds, I tipped some of the soup into the toilet from nearly chin-high. I heard her gag in the stall beside me, so I hammed it up a bit more, an evil grin spreading across my face. I flushed the toilet, basking in the glow of my performance, when I realized I had no idea what I was going to do with the container. As I stared at the empty cardboard trying to figure out where to hide it, she was already washing her hands. Shit, shit! She has to know it was me! I tucked it behind the toilet seat and carefully closed the stall behind me.

  “Sorry about that. I’m gonna have to call maintenance to come up here and help clean up.” I cupped my hands under the cold water and took a sip.