You've Got Fail(16)

“He deserved it.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” I held up my glass.

He reluctantly clinked his with mine. “Like I said, it’s my life. I’m practically the hermit of the East Village. I spend all my time at my desk, trying to make the blog a success.”

“Sounds…isolating.” That had to be a lonely job. “You should get out more.”

He twisted the corner of his napkin around his finger. “I’m too busy. My friend Elias is always inviting me to go out with him or set me up.” He shrugged, and a vulnerability radiated from him in subtle waves.

“But?”

He gave me a wry smile. “The relationships you guessed about earlier didn’t end so well. I’m not interested in any more heartbreak.”

“I get that.” I never saw anyone seriously. My life didn’t lend itself to relationships, especially when I had Hannah to take care of. “Getting involved with someone creates its own problems.”

He nodded. “Right. And, so far, it hasn’t been worth it.”

I grabbed my half-full glass and held it up. “To being single.”

He clinked his glass to mine. “To being single.”

We drank to loneliness, but held each other’s gaze as we drained our glasses.





7





Willis





The shirt strangled my biceps, which was both gratifying and irritating.

“How’s it looking in there?” Elias’s voice floated through the changing room door.

“Shitty.”

“Oh.”

“Sir?” The store clerk hovered outside the door. “Could I take a look and see what the problem is?”

“Sure.” I swung open the door.

The clerk peeked inside and frowned. “I see. But, good news is, I have just the thing. Two seconds.” He disappeared.

Elias walked in and plopped on the dressing bench. “What’s wrong with the shirt?”

“If I were the sort of douche who flexed my guns to impress the ladies every chance I got, I’d bust right through the fabric.”

He rolled his eyes. “What a terrible problem to have.”

I stripped the shirt off. “How many times have I asked you to go to the gym with me?”

“Meh.” He patted his stomach. “Nothing feels as good as dessert tastes.”

I laughed. “I think you mean ‘nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.’”

He scoffed. “That is skinny-ist propaganda.”

“Sure.”

The clerk returned with another shirt in a similar navy shade as the one I’d just tried on. “This one has more room in the areas where you need it.”

I took it and slipped it on.

“That’s looking nice, man.” Elias nodded as I buttoned it up. “Scarlet will drop the panties in no time.”

“How many times do I have to remind you this is a business relationship?” I shook my head and peered at the shirt in the mirror.

“Sure. But I saw how you two were vibing at the gallery.” He tapped the side of his nose. “I’m onto you.”

“You’re delusional.” I’d spent the last two nights telling myself that Scarlet was solely a business partner, nothing more. My dick hadn’t agreed and seemed to be on a mission to turn me into a teenage boy. But all that was beside the point. I wouldn’t let my hard-on for the mysterious Scarlet rule me. This was to sell books, to become the go-to name in relationship and sex advice. A voice that cut through all the noise and helped people find lasting happiness. Scarlet Rocket. Me.

“Is this irony?” He scratched his head. “You’re the smart one, so tell me; is it irony that you dish out relationship advice, but you can’t even admit when you’re jonesing for a girl?”

“If it were true, then yes, it would be ironic.” I shrugged out of the shirt and handed it to the clerk. “Just give me five of those in different colors.”

“Will do.” He hurried away as I pulled my Avengers t-shirt over my head.

“So now you have big boy pants, shirts, shoes, and jackets.” Elias wiped a fake tear. “All grown up.”

“Remind me, why are we friends again?” I strode out of the dressing room.

“My sparkling personality and classic good looks?” He followed me to the register.

I grunted and handed over my credit card.

“You are even grumpier than usual.” He leaned on the counter beside me. “That little Scarlet Rocket has gotten under your skin something terrible.”

“Scarlet Rocket?” The clerk glanced up from running my credit card.

“Yeah.” Elias grinned. “Have you heard of her?”

The clerk handed my card back. “Of course! Do you know her? Is she as amazing in person as she is on her blog?”

“Even more so.” Elias just couldn’t help himself.

“I knew it. Six months ago, my girlfriend wrote to her about”—he glanced around the small men’s store to make sure no one was listening—“her overactive gag reflex.”

I remembered that question. Screen name: GaggingGracie.

Elias elbowed me. “Scarlet helped you out?”