Authors: Lauren Rowe
“Yeah, it’s the kick that keeps you coming back for more.” He smiles wickedly.
I return Brian’s smile, but mine is merely polite. Was that Brian’s attempt at sexual innuendo? I resist the urge to sigh loudly. “It’s funny you should say that,” I say, doing my best to keep our stilted conversation humming along. “Because I was just reading an article in
UCLA Magazine
about the top ten places to get a burger in L.A. and it said the—”
“
Maddy
.”
I look to my right and instantly have a seizure. “Keane?” I blurt, blood rushing into my face. “What...?” Oh my God, he looks insanely hot. His spikey blue mop has been shaved down into a dirty-blonde buzz cut—and now that Keane’s face doesn’t have to compete with his hair for attention, his gorgeous eyes are glowing like two blue coals.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, baby doll,” Keane says smoothly, a smile dancing on his beautiful lips. “I was outside, parking my white horse.’”
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. What the fuckity is Keane doing here? And
now
of all times, when I’m sitting here with frickin’ Brian on a freakin’
date
?
“The guy from the
mini-mart
?” Brian blurts. “
Seriously
?”
“Hey, Brian,” Keane says, smirking. “Sorry to cock-block you
again
, brah, but I gotta talk to my girl.” He looks at me. “Hey, babe, you didn’t send me my homework assignment this morning. How am I supposed to be Ball Peen Hammer without my partner in crime, Maddy Behind the Camera?”
I’m speechless.
That’s
why Keane’s here, out of the blue—when I’m on a date with frickin’
Brian
—because I didn’t send him a text instructing him what freaking
video
to record this morning?
“I... was...” I stammer. Oh good lord. My tongue feels thick and useless inside my mouth. “I... um. Didn’t. Gah.”
Keane seems unfazed by my inability to string two words together. “So, seeing as how you left me to my own devices, I was forced to use my pea-brain to come up with my
own
idea for today’s video,” Keane says, his eyes twinkling. “And, actually, if I do say so myself, I totally nailed it.”
I can’t fathom what’s happening. Why is Keane here out of the blue—and looking so goddamned gorgeous? Is he
trying
to torture me?
“And then, lo and behold, after I’d finished recording my totally
awesome
video,” Keane says, his voice cutting through the firestorm of my racing thoughts, “I thought it was so fucking
kewl
—and, yes, I’m spelling that k-e-w-l—I had to show it to you right away or I felt like I was gonna explode.”
I look at Brian, my cheeks burning, and find him looking completely annoyed.
“But, gosh darn it, Maddy, you didn’t return
any
of my calls or texts
all day long
,” Keane continues. “Which serves me right, by the way—I know I totally deserved that shit—so, of course, that left me no choice but to fly down here to show you the video in person.” He flashes a huge smile, showcasing his dimples.
I can’t smile back at Keane—my mouth muscles don’t seem to be under my control at the moment. “You flew all the way down to Los Angeles to show me a
video
?” I sputter. My brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. All I want to do is leap out of my chair, throw my arms around Keane’s neck, kiss his beautiful lips, and sob to him pathetically about how much I’ve missed him. But I can’t do it. Keane has very clearly informed me he wants to be my friend and nothing more, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna beg a man to want me, no matter who he is or how much I want him. “I can’t do this right now,” I manage to say, my calm tone surprising myself. “Maybe tomorrow?” I glance at Brian and try to smile reassuringly, though I’m quite certain I’m not succeeding.
Keane holds his phone out to me. “Sorry, man-eater. It’s gotta be now.”
I feel like I’m gonna pass out from the stress of this horribly awkward situation. Nothing even remotely like this has ever happened to me before.
“Keane,” I say imploringly, my eyes beseeching him to leave and stop torturing me. “
Please
.”
“Watch the video, Maddy,” Keane says evenly, his jaw set. “I’m not leaving ’til you watch it.”
Oh jeez. This situation is literally painful. I glance at Brian again. His face is red and his jaw is clenched—and that’s all I need to come to my senses. I absolutely can’t watch this video, not in front of Brian. The right thing to do is tell Keane he’ll just have to wait for me to watch his
kewl
video until tomorrow (
if
I happen to find time in my busy schedule because, news flash, I’ve got a very busy and exciting life that doesn’t involve sitting around pining for a guy who’s already told me he doesn’t want me after I shamelessly threw myself at him).
Yep, that’s most definitely the right thing to do.
And exactly what I’m going to do.
Hell yes.
Starting now.
I open my mouth and then shut it again.
Damn
.
I hastily grab Keane’s phone from his open palm, blood whooshing into my ears in a torrent, but before I’ve pressed “play” on the video, Brian’s voice commands my attention.
“Hey, Maddy,” Brian says abruptly, his tone making it clear he’s extremely irritated. “I’m gonna cut out, okay? Seems like you two have a
thing
and I don’t wanna—”
“No,” I say forcefully, interrupting Brian. I lower Keane’s phone to my lap, ashamed of myself. “Keane and I are just—”
Keane cuts me off. “Thanks, man,” he says to Brian. “You’re absolutely right—Maddy and I do have a
thing
—an awesome and amazing
thing
.” Keane looks at me, his eyes smoldering. “A
thing
I’m not gonna fuck up ever again.”
I clutch my chest, completely overwhelmed. Holy crap. What the heck on a Ritz cracker does that mean?
“You cool catching a ride home with him?” Brian asks me, but he’s already rising from his chair.
I nod.
“I’ll get her home safe and sound,” Keane says. “Thanks.”
“I’m sorry,” I manage to say to Brian’s back as he strides away.
But he’s already gone.
I look at Keane, my breathing shallow, my cheeks hot. “You and I have a
thing
?” I whisper, barely able to get the words out.
“A fucking awesome
thing
,” Keane replies.
“And you’re not gonna... fuck it up ever again?”
Keane grins. “Watch the video, Maddy. I don’t wanna steal my own thunder.”
I take a deep breath, look down at the phone in my trembling hand, and cue the video—and, immediately, I’m met with the vision of Keane, shirtless and blue-haired, his muscles more ripped than ever, standing in a bathroom with Zander. Zander’s holding an electric razor in one hand and his phone in the other, and he’s recording both guys’ reflections in the bathroom mirror.
“Hey everyone,” Keane says, waving. “Welcome to another edition of ‘Ball Peen Hammer’s Guide to a Handsome and Happy Life.’ You all know my best friend Zander? Say hi, Zander.”
“Hi, Zander.”
Keane runs his hand through his tousled blue hair and his bicep bulges with the effort. “Hey, lads-in-training, I get asked all kinds of questions in the comments to my videos, so today I thought I’d answer one of the most frequently asked: ‘Hey, Ball Peen Hammer, why the fuck is your hair blue?’” Keane smiles at the camera like he’s got a secret. “Well, guys, it’s funny. Before today, I thought the full and complete answer to that question was this: I dyed it to help Zander bag the girl of his dreams. Basically, Z saw this girl in a bar and fell instantly in love with her (‘cause, unlike me, Z has absolutely no problem with love at first sight), and, since Z’s dream girl was thinking about dying
her
hair blue, Zander volunteered me to be her guinea pig.” Keane shrugs. “At the time, I figured it was a no-brainer—anyone would dye their hair blue for their best friend to have a chance at love, right? Well, I’ve since learned, based on people’s reactions to my hair, that ‘normal’ people apparently would
not
permanently dye their hair blue to help their best friend bag his dream girl. I know, crazy, right? What’s wrong with these purportedly ‘normal’ people?”
I look up at Keane, confused about where this thing is headed.
“Keep watching,” Keane says, motioning to the phone in my hand.
I look down again.
“So I’ve come to realize something: I’m not normal, guys. And that
epiphany
about myself, along with a well-timed conversation with my momma—thanks, Momma Lou—made me realize the bigger reason why I dyed my hair blue: because I believe in every man’s pursuit of happiness. So if my best friend thinks he’s found the girl of his dreams, the girl that’s gonna make him handsome and happy all the livelong day, then I’m sure as hell gonna do whatever I can to help him bag that girl. He wants to hit a homerun in life, then I’m right there with him, cheering him on. Because I believe in swinging for the fences, guys. I admit I lost sight of that for a while, but I’ve figured it out again and I’m not gonna forget it. Guys, if you wanna be a handsome and happy lad, you gotta keep shooting for the major leagues, no matter what curve balls life throws at you. If you swing and miss or fall on your face, at least you can say you went out swinging, right? At least you’ll have no regrets.” Keane takes a deep breath in the video. “Which brings me to the reason Zander’s holding that razor: it’s time for me to swing for the fences, lads. That’s right, I’m gonna take my shot at bagging the girl of
my
dreams this time.”
Zander holds up the razor in the video.
“Oh man, guys, this dream girl of mine is smart, funny, sweet. She’s
loyal
. Feisty. Creative. Talented. Easy to talk to. And, on top of all that, she’s sexy as hell, too. Best I ever had, not even exaggerating, and I’ve had a lot.” He winks. “I mean, seriously, what more could a guy want?”
I feel my cheeks burst with color.
“Don’t forget she’s adorbsicles, too,” Zander says.
“She is,” Keane confirms, pointing at Zander emphatically. “A cutie patootie, I’d even say.”
“I called it,” Zander says proudly. “She called you a ‘jerksauce’ and ‘dickweed’ and I knew she was adorbsicles.”
“You totally called it, baby doll, right after you sent her an unsolicited dick-pic.”
They high-five.
Keane looks at the camera again. “So now I’m sure you’re wondering, ‘Who the fuck is this amazing girl, Ball Peen Hammer? I wanna take a look-see to satisfy my curiosi-tay.’ Well, sorry, guys, you can’t see her. Because the funny thing about my girl and me is that, as much as I love being in front of the camera, my girl hates it. All my girl wants to do is be
behind
it and run the show, which is something she does like a boss, bee tee dubs.”
“Ooooooh, did you just drop a
hint
about your girl’s identity?” Zander asks.
“Whoa. I do believe I did,” Keane says, smiling broadly. “I didn’t even mean to do that. Ha! Just can’t help myself, I guess.” Keane’s entire face lights up. “Okay, now that I’ve unintentionally let the cat outta the bag, I might as well tell you: my dream girl is none other than the beautiful, smart, funny, and sexy-as-hell Maddy Behind the Camera.”
I lower the phone in my hand into my lap, my entire body trembling, and look at Keane.
Keane touches my hand and raises the phone back up, nonverbally instructing me to keep watching.
I look back down at the video, as instructed, but I can barely focus.
“Now, sadly, Maddy Behind the Camera doesn’t know how I feel about her,” Keane continues in the video. “She thinks I wanna be ‘just friends’ because that’s what I stupidly told her when I last saw her—
because I’m a fucking idiot
.”
Zander laughs. “And a dick.”
“
And a dick
. That’s right. But I’ve come to my senses. So, in just a bit, I’m gonna hop a flight to L.A. and do whatever I have to do to make my dream girl agree to be mine-all-mine-‘til-the-end-o’-time.” He motions to his hair in the bathroom mirror. “Which, of course, means this shit’s got to go, son. Because a guy can’t gallop into town on his white horse and try to swoop the girl of his dreams off her feet with hair he dyed to impress another man’s woman.”
I can’t watch anymore—my heart’s about to burst. I lower the phone to my lap and look into Keane’s blazing eyes. “Keane,” I breathe, my heart racing.
“I’m sorry, Maddy,” Keane says, his face mere inches from mine, his eyes burning. He slides his palms onto my cheeks, making me shudder at his touch. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you’re anything less than my dream girl. You’re amazing. Perfect. Incredible.
Beautiful
. And I’m a total and complete dick.”
“You got the razor fired up, Z?” Keane’s voice says in my lap. But I’m not paying attention to the video anymore.
“My heart’s been aching without you,” Keane says. “
Even worse than my balls.
”
I laugh.
Keane leans in as if to kiss me, but just before his lips press against mine, he stops short, his thumbs rubbing gently against my cheekbones. “I’m in love with you, Maddy Milliken,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, his eyes on fire.
Emotion surges up inside me. “I’m in love with you, too, Keane Morgan,” I whisper, barely able to choke out the unbelievable words.
Keane plants his soft, warm lips against mine, sending my body into a state of near-euphoria, just as the sound of a buzzing razor wafts out of the phone in my lap.
After a moment, Keane pulls away from our kiss, looking drunk. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist my
ebullient
charm.” He beams a smile at me.
I giggle. “Well, gosh. I’m only human, Keane.”
“Let’s get out of here, Honey Bunches of O’s.” He throws a bill onto the table, grabs my hand, and leads me out of the restaurant into the night. For a full block, we walk in silence, our hands clasped tightly, our chests heaving, making our way with purposeful strides toward my apartment five long and tortuous blocks away. “Oh my God,” Keane breathes, his hand firmly intertwined with mine. “I do believe this right here is the granddaddy of all ‘quiet moments of magic.’”