Page 29 of No Interest in Love

“Well, marriage isn’t stupid forthem.” She pointed to the exit where Liz and Landon had disappeared. “But for people like us? Marriage isn’t going to give us happiness.”

“And what will?”

“Sex.”

“Agreed.”

“Even if it’s only temporary happiness.”

“Who says it has to be temporary?” A good round could last me a few weeks. Nothing beat the high of noncommittal sex.

“We could do it, you know.” She stopped messing with her straw. “Help each other out with temporary happiness.”

She was drunk.

But so was I.

Theresa was the noncommitment type. I’d known her for a few years, and she was not like Liz. Liz wanted the long term, the living together, dating, marriage, the whole shebang Same with Landon. So I agreed with Theresa on that front—marriage was not stupid for them. But for people like us? The people who didn’t want to find love? The people who were okay with the one-nights, the casual hookups? Marriage wouldn’t work. We’d feel caged, stuck, never fully committed, and it would make it worse for whoever we ended up with.

So I could’ve gone for it. On my buzz, I almost did. But there was one thing stopping me. And he was on the dance floor, keeping a polite distance from his partner.

“What about Alec?” I asked. Theresa’s neck flushed and she swallowed loudly. Alec had told Theresa not two weeks earlier how he felt about her. I’d known for much longer than that. And though Theresa said she didn’t reciprocate those feelings, the way she looked at him from across the room, even drunk, I knew what that look was.

“I can’t do what I want with Alec,” she said after a minute. “He wants way more than I do.”

“You sure about that?”

She nodded. “I fell in love with a friend before. Didn’t work out.”

“Don’t want to risk it again?” I glanced at Penny. She was doing a killer job of ignoring me that night.

“Not with Alec.” She moved her empty glass out of the way, leaning across the table. She wanted to kiss. I could see it. Hell, I was tempted by the way her shirt fell and her scent and the fact that my head was fuzzy and when someone presents their lips to you, you take them. But luckily, my dedication to the bro code was in full force that night, and I gently pushed her back to her seat. I told her I’d be right back, and I went and got Alec instead. He took her home. I lost my brunette, and I didn’t find any other takers.

If I’m completely honest, finding takers for the kind of nonrelationship I want is harder than the movies make it seem. Every other character seems to pop up at the right time, but finding Miss One Night is about as rare as finding a roasted pig at a bar mitzvah.

11:56A.M.

I fell asleep.

Hard-core fell asleep. The sun is blazing through Shay’s open window, nothing but dirt along the road we’re on. Truffles is sticking his head out, collar jangling and ears flopping. Shay strokes his fur along his back, her long black hair whipping around her face. We’re a Hallmark card right now.

I silently stretch and tilt my head. Well, maybe not all of us are Hallmark. Rise and shine, my horny friend. Jamming my hand into my jeans, I fix him so he’s resting under my waistband. Then I try to think about the YouTube video I saw of a hairy, drunk guy running naked through Central Park.

Milo is still talking nonstop. Takes me a few drowsy minutes to comprehend that he’s talking about basketball.

“Always going to be a Spurs fan. It runs thick through my blood. My heartbeat cheers ‘Let’s go, Spurs, let’s go!’ It’s true. Doctor said so.”

“I think we have the same heartbeat,” Shay says, tapping her chest. Her eyes don’t look as droopy as yesterday, and she grabs a pen from Milo’s floor and jams it into her mess of hair.

“True Texan!” Milo shouts. He sticks his hand out for her to high-five. She hesitates before obliging.

“You’re from Texas?” I ask Shay, then clear my throat to get the sleep out of my voice. Truffles whips his head around and jumps onto my lap.

“Oomph!” I groan, clutching my balls. Guess he solved my morning wood problem.

“What is this?” Milo laughs out his bolting laugh. “Shane’s got some competition, looks like.” He nods to Truffles lapping at my face, and I let go of my very bruised junk and push the pup’s face away.

“I think you should put the ring on Truffles,” Shay says to Milo as she flips the iPod to another country song. Truffles howls and whines. I agree, buddy.

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