“Nothing like that. Everything’s
cool.” Nathan slipped out from under Danny’s grip and dribbled toward the
net. He threw another shot. Woulda been all net had there been one.
“Okay. Just checking
in with you. Seemed like something was going on,” Danny said. “No word from
your brother or anything like that, right?”
“Nope.” Nathan wiped
his face across the sleeve of his shirt and took another shot. This time he
missed.
Danny wisely changed
the subject. “So, Leila and me? Yeah, we’re over.” At Nathan’s raised brow,
he shrugged. “She was a little too freaky – even for me.” When Nathan’s other
brow joined the first, Danny exhaled a laugh. “I know, I know, right? But
it’s true. I’m up for the kinky sex club now and then, but I’m not looking to
make that a way of life, you know? Plus, she wanted to bring another dude into
the mix and that’s where this Irishman draws the line.”
“No cap on the females
allowed, but no other dudes, huh?” Nathan snorted at Danny’s emphatic,
“Goddamn straight!”
Danny shook his head.
“So weird how different Leila and Christy are. How in the world those two ever
hooked up is beyond me. Christy ever say anything about it?”
Christy never said much
about anything, which suited Nathan just fine, but it didn’t lend itself to any
in-depth conversations about how she’d befriended Danny’s nymphomaniac ex.
“No.” Nathan slowed
his dribble, grabbing the ball with both hands on its last bounce. He studied
the faded black S in Spalding. “I’m thinking about asking Christy if she wants
to move in together.”
Nathan swallowed down a
dry heave.
Danny’s reaction was
only slightly less dramatic. “Uh…
what
?” He walked closer to Nathan and
leaned in. “Please repeat that. Because I know you couldn’t possibly have
said you want to move in with Little Miss Paper Shuffler.” Danny laughed.
“Getting laid is one thing, but making a move like that? What, are you nuts?”
“She’s easy to get
along with and very…calm. I’m 32 years old, Mac. Gotta settle down some
time.” Nathan shrugged. “She’s as good as anyone.”
“Oh, well, if she’s as
good as anyone!” Danny guffawed, throwing his hands into the air. “Why didn’t
you just say that? If she’s as good as anyone, then – by all means – marry the
woman.” Danny grabbed Nathan by both shoulders. “Have you lost your fucking
mind?” He dropped his arms and pointed at Nathan’s chest. “See? I knew
something was up with you! Don’t get squirrely on me, bro! You’re the only
sane person I have in my life. Don’t go all
American Psycho
on me now.”
“Asking a perfectly nice
woman to move in with me is comparable to murdering a bunch of people in cold
blood?”
“It’s worse!” At the
simultaneous lift of both brows, Danny said, “Well, okay, not worse, but
close. Just promise me you’ll think this through. I don’t want you to be
another Contini.”
Joey Contini was a cop
on the force who’d married a neighborhood girl his parents had approved of.
Both nice people, but miserable as hell together. Now Joey had a drinking
problem and his wife was stuck at home with five kids she resented. It was an
ugly situation, but had nothing to do with Nathan trying to live some semblance
of a normal life.
But there
were
a
lot of reasons Nathan shouldn’t move in with anyone. For starters, his fucked
up workout scenes, need for absolute cleanliness, and frequent nightmares. But
it felt like an average, normal thing to think about moving in with a woman and
Nathan was a big fan of anything average and normal. Plus, the thought of
never having to start up another relationship? Worth the price of admission.
“It was a thought. No
big deal,” Nathan said. “Just thinking things through.”
“Yeah, well, keep
thinking, D. You move in with that woman and you’ll be miserable. She’s not
right for you.”
“Who is? Someone like
Leila?” Nathan sank another ball.
“It would do you some
serious good, my man. Help you let go a little. Loosen you up. Screw a few
hundred Leilas and
then
think about settling down.” Danny grinned.
“There’s a lot of fun to be had out there. Trust me. You just gotta get into
the right mindset.”
Nathan wasn’t capable
of that mindset and they both knew it, but it made Danny feel better to blow
smoke.
“And speaking of
fun…how hot is that Stella chick? I’m thinking of looking her up in the system
and doing a little recon. She’s got a smokin’ body and a hot little mouth to
go with it.”
Nathan froze. Because
it wasn’t until that moment that his conscious mind caught up with his
subconscious mind and he realized
she
was there. Had been there since
he’d laid eyes on her.
Lurking in his brain.
Fucking it all up. Fucking everything all up.
Nathan walked to the
bench to grab his water bottle. He wasn’t thirsty, but he needed to try
washing down the fist in his throat.
“So whaddya think?
Wanna look her up and do a little drive by tonight?” Danny asked. He grabbed a
towel off the bench and wrapped it around his neck.
“She’s not your type.
An Italian girl like that…” Nathan rubbed at a sudden tightness above his
sternum. “All trouble. She’d chew you up and spit you out. I lived in a whole
neighborhood full of women like that before the system. You don’t mess with
‘em, trust me.”
“I’m all about those
dark eyes and wild hair, bro…” Danny’s grin had Nathan rubbing his sternum
raw. “And they’re feisty. Wildcats in bed. What-“ Danny pointed at Nathan’s
manic chest rubbing. “You got some heartburn? Or…what’s going on there?”
“Yeah, heartburn. From
that Taco Bell last night.”
They walked toward the
station. “All that talk about Italian chicks got me hungry. And horny, but
mostly hungry. Let’s do Italian tonight,” Danny said. “Marinelli’s sound
good?”
***
Stella popped a fried
mushroom into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. She shrugged and said, “I
don’t really have an interest in going into management. Look at all of the
crap you go through.” She tossed a few more ice cubes into her glass of
Riesling and sipped. “I’m not looking for any more drama in my life.”
“One day you’ll be too
old to pound the floor though.” Christopher waved off Stella’s offended expression.
“Not for like 10-“ Stella’s eyes narrowed. “Er, 20 years. But, still. You
should do the Master’s now and get it over with. Before you get all
conventional and start popping out babies left and right.”
The second mushroom
stuck in Stella’s esophagus. She took an overly large gulp of Riesling to wash
it down. “No real concern about that. For a lot of different reasons.” At
Christopher’s softened eyes, she scoffed. “Not going there. It’s Saturday
night amd we’re off work. It’s time to
par-tay
.”
Christopher glanced
around at the tables full of sweating parents, screaming kids, senior citizens
clutching coupons, and gangly 16 year olds on first dates.
He quirked a
well-groomed black brow. “If this is your idea of a
par-tay
, you’re
worse off than I thought.”
Stella laughed. She
felt her cell phone buzz and – after about two minutes of searching the murky
depths – pulled it out of her purse. She read the text. “Kat’s coming up to
meet us.” Stella looked up with a devilish grin. “And she’s bringing
Stellan.” She mouthed the words, “
For you
.”
“The hunky Norwegian
I’ve been hearing so much about?” Christopher adjusted his shirt and patted
down his thick, dark hair. He winked at Stella. “Might turn into a
par-ty
after all!”
Twenty minutes later,
the third born Ciaramitaro sister came through the door of Marinelli’s rocking
Gucci glasses, a zebra cane, and the sexiest sneakers money could buy. Her
sisters had decided long ago that Multiple Sclerosis and nerdiness weren’t
going to stop Kat from being the most fabulous bitch in the room.
And it didn’t hurt she
was hanging on the arm of her gorgeous research assistant, Stellan. The man
was an Alexander Skarsgard look alike: tall, muscular, and broody as hell. He
was also as gay as the day was long, thus Christopher’s near squirming in his
seat as they approached.
“Hey, Stella. Hey,
Christopher,” Kat said, shuffling closer to their corner table. She released
Stellan’s arm and gripped the corner of the table. She grimaced. “Those stairs
just about killed us. Stellan had to basically carry me.”
“Oh, crap, I didn’t
even think of that. I’m sorry, Kat,” Stella replied, standing up to let her
sister sit in the outer chair.
Kat waved off her
apology as she propped her cane against the table. Stella pulled out her chair
and Kat plopped into it. “It’s no big deal, but poor Stellan…he has to drag me
around the lab all day and now he’s dragging me around all of Cleveland.”
Stellan “psshed” Kat’s
words as he eyed Christopher in a way only a gay man can pull off. He must
have liked what he saw because his fair skin quickly reddened. Stellan sank
into the chair next to Kat, opposite of Christopher, and within a few seconds
the men were chit-chatting.
Well, Christopher was
talking and Stellan was staring. God love science dorks and their social
awkwardness. They were some of Stella’s favorite people on earth.
The waitress set a
plate of cold antipasti on the table and took Kat and Stellan’s drink orders.
As she walked away, Stella leaned in. “Hey, everything okay? You seem like
you’re limping a lot more today.”
“My left leg has been
worse this time,” Kat replied as she arranged the napkins, silverware, and
coasters on the table in a way she approved of. “I’ve had some worsening
numbness too.” The waitress set Kat’s Merlot down and sent Stellan’s tap beer
down the table. Kat shrugged. “I’ll call the Dr. Schlagel on Monday. Maybe
they can up my dose of something.”
Stella nodded. She
opened her mouth to ask how physical therapy was going, but closed it. And
stared. Because she could
not
believe who had walked into her world.
Again.
Kat caught her staring
and turned to look over her shoulder.
“Don’t!” Stella hissed,
her eyes now trained on Kat’s furrowed brow. “Do not turn around, but the cops
who showed up at Eddie’s house the other night just walked in.” Stella stole a
quick glance to make sure they hadn’t spotted her and found she was safe for
the moment. They’d been seated in the opposite corner of the restaurant,
closer to the door. “And they were at the hospital a few nights ago on a drunk
driving accident.”
“None of which explains
why you’re whispering when they are all the way across a crowded restaurant.”
Kat sipped her merlot and studied Stella over the rim of the glass. “Or why
you’re acting like a fugitive they’re hunting down. Have you been committing
felonies again, Stell?”
“I’m embarrassed, Kat,
for Christ’s sake!” Which was true. She had acted like a crazed maniac that
night at Eddie’s. It had been justified, but still. No one likes to think
they’re acting like those people on
Cops
, even when they are. But she
was even more embarrassed about her marriage question.
“Which is why we all
told you not to do anything stupid,” Kat replied.
“A little late for that
now, huh?” Stella lifted her glass to take a sip and stole a glance at Drazek
and The Other One. Her hand froze when she locked eyes with The Other One. “
Shit
!”
“What now? Did that boy
you threw up on in the third grade just walk in?” Kat grinned at her own joke
and, again, Stella cursed the dry, brutal humor of a smart ass geneticist.
“One of them saw me.
The Rico Suave one.”
Kat’s brow furrowed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Stella didn’t have time
to explain 90’s one-hit-wonder Gerardo to her sister. Because The Other One
just winked at her.
Dear God…
Stella lifted her hand
in a weak wave. She turned to Christopher on her right. “Talk to me,” she
hissed, leaning way into his personal space.
“I’m talking to
Stellan
right now,” he hissed back.
Stella grabbed
Christopher’s massive bicep and pulled herself closer to his ear. “Do it or I
swear to God I will tell Stellan you are bi.”