Page 43 of Fighting for You
I throw the towel I’ve been using to dry glasses over my shoulder before walking to a stool to sit down. “Give me some of the new shit first,” I say, pointing my chin toward the almost empty decanter.
Ripley gives me a decent pour, grabs himself a glass, and empties the rest into it. As I take a sip, savoring the new flavor profile he’s created, he walks around to sit next to me.
“So you, uhh,” I start, already feeling embarrassed, “you know women, right?”
His face screws up with confusion. “Uh, a few, yeah…”
“No, I mean like… what do they like?” He stares at me, blinks a few times, like no one is fucking home inside that head of his. I run my hand over my buzzed hair, trying to find the right words to get my point across. “Like… what do they like to do?”
He finally comes back to life and says, “...This isn’t a sex thing, right? Because one, I think you get laid way more than I do. And two, you know I’m gay, right? You weren’tsodrunk at that dumpster fire of a dinner you forgot… Please say you didn’t forget.”
I huff out a laugh. Ripley is probably the only one who could make me laugh right now. Maybe Margot too. “I remember. And this isn’t a ‘sex thing.’ I just need advice on dating. But I don’t feel comfortable asking anyone else. And I figure, no matter what team you bat for, you’ve got to know more than I do.”
He weighs my response, his head bobbing back and forth for a moment. “You’re probably right. And I’m happy you feelcomfortable coming to me. Can I just ask… does this have to do with our very pretty, very sweet curly-haired nurse?”
I shoot him a look in response, feeling like I don’t need words to get my answer across. And I have to tell myself he isn’t into her, he’s just being Ripley. The possessiveness I feel for a moment takes me by surprise though. I’ve never been a jealous guy—mainly because I’ve never cared enough about someone to feel jealous.
“Got it. Okay. Well, first off, she’s a fucking catch so you’ve at least finally found some good taste.”
I flip him off, the hidden insult about my previous “taste” obvious.
“Can we not?” I ask, and he just laughs.
“Listen, Brooks, women just want your time and attention. It’s really that simple. What you do isn’t as important, but it can certainly help. I’d stay away from the tired dinner and a movie idea though. No woman wants to sit in a quiet movie theater for most of your date; they like to chat, get to know you.”
Nodding my head, I say, “Right. Okay. So, not dinner and a movie. Got it. Any… other ideas?”
“You gotta find something thatlookslike you put a ton of effort in but still isn’t so flashy it’s unbelievable you came up with it on your own. Flashy isn’t your style anyway.”
I take a deep breath, blowing it out to relieve the stress building up in my chest. “You’re making this too difficult. Maybe I just shouldn’t. I’ll fuck it up anyway.”
He laughs, which only pisses me off. “You’re making it harder than it needs to be. Just pick something with the right blend of activity and hanging out. You want her to be comfortable. Oh, and food. There should always be food. Specifically cheese. Girls are animals when they get hangry and not in the fun way.”
I’m already feeling the pressure. Ripley must notice because he pats me on the back as he adds, “Look, I can’t do all the heavylifting. This is your girl, so it’s got to be your date. She’ll know someone else planned it if it doesn’t seem like a ‘you’ idea. But I’m confident you’ll figure it out.”
Glad one of us is, I think to myself.
Before turning to leave, Ripley adds, “Just uhh… maybe don’t bring her here to cap off your night? I don’t need to walk in on another one of your umm… dalliances.” I snicker at his back as he walks off laughing to himself. He clearly has more confidence in me than I do.
Chapter Eighteen
Brooks
The bell above the door of Mark of Mason rings as I push it open, grabbing Kori’s attention from the desk. She’s reading some magazine straight out of the 2000s. When she sees it’s me, she gives me a chin nod then goes back to looking through her trashy tabloids.
I decided if I’m going to ask Margot out on a date—officially this time—I need to talk to Hayes. I’m fully aware he might kill me for this, but I want to do right by my friendship with him. Maybe he’ll make me fight him in The Pit. He seems like the type of guy who would want a fair fight no matter how pissed off he is.
Within seconds of entering the building, I hear Margot’s voice.
Fuck. What is she doing here?I wonder if she’s talking to Hayes about their dad. Maybe she’s asking for help so she doesn’t have to handle it herself or rely on me.
As I round the corner, she comes into view. I remember a second too late, as her eyes meet mine, I have her dress fromthe other night—washed and neatly folded—tucked under my arm. I’d planned on explaining myself and what happened in great detail to Hayes before handing it over to him to return to Margot. Well, maybe notgreatdetail. I’d leave out the part where she kissed me. And the part about her being half-naked.
But she’s here. At Mark of Mason. Her eyes shifting back and forth between me and the dress I’m holding. Before I have time to say anything, Hayes’ phone is ringing, and he’s getting up from where he was sitting. “I’ll be back,” he says to everyone in the room, giving me a chin nod as he passes.
The second he’s out of view, Margot grabs my arm and pulls me into the break room. “Fuck—ow!” I grumble as her nails dig into my arm. For such a small thing, she’s surprisingly strong. She closes the door behind us, immediately crossing her arms over her chest with a pissed off look on her face. “For a nurse, I’d think hurting your patients is against your code of conduct.”
Her face scrunches up a bit as she whisper-shouts, “Okay, first off, you aren’t my patient. Secondly, you deserved that! Why did you bringthathere?” She indicates to the dress I’m now holding in front of me like a shield. “Are you trying to get yourself murdered?”
