Page 32 of Wrong Car, Wright Guy
“I asked you what he said exactly, then you went all spacey and were doing this weird eyebrow up, eyebrow down thing.”It’s called daydreaming, Theo.
“I wasnotdoing a weird eyebrow up, eyebrow down thing,” I retort.
“Yeah, you were,” he scoffs, tilting his head then mimicking the action. I shove him against the arm.
“I wasnotdoing that! Stop!” He keeps going, as brothers do, and by the end of it, we’re both cackling.
“Answer my question,” he says, when we’ve calmed down and I’m walking with him toward the leg press. “What’s his opinion?”
“Oh, heneverstates his personal opinion. We just discuss the things social media is debating over and let the callers say the controversial stuff. We’re more like moderators in a debate.”
“So, what you’re telling me is, he’s not a bigot?”
“Shockingly, no. He’s definitely an asshole, though.”
“Oh, that makes it so much better.” He rolls his eyes as he gets on the leg press machine and positions his feet on the plate. “Tell you what, you find out one hundred percent what his opinion of me and my fellow homos is, and then I’ll give you my answer.”
“Deal,” I say, holding out my hand to shake his before changing my mind when I realize how sweaty he is. “No backing out of this, by the way. I need you.”
“No backing out. If you say he’s on Team Rainbow, I’ll be your shadow beast on the billboards.”
I grin. “You’re the best, and I’m sure he’s not a bigot in any way, shape or form.”
“I still want confirmation.”
“No problem. I’ll see you later.”
Weaving my way out of the gym, I feel confident that Theo will be doing the shoot with me. Tanner is a dick, but he isn't the bigot he is represented as. When I started working with him, he called himself a moderator of social commentary. That was the most apt description of him. On air, he’s very careful not to put his own views out there about anything. He listens, and he asks questions, but he doesn’t tell anyonehowto think at all. I have developed a lot of respect for him professionally because of that. Even if he is rude and abrasive most of the time.
But if I’m honest with myself, I kinda like arguing with him, and he can definitely hold his own. Which works for me—and the show—because we clash regularly. And while he never backs down, he does crack occasionally, which I like to chalk up as a win for me. And when we’re not arguing, I take great delight in making him laugh when he is trying to be gruff. I also enjoy doing things that I know tick him off. Like leaving his door open, and putting calls from journalists through when he’s busy—hereallyhates that. I also buy sour drops instead of lozenges sometimes since hestillmakes me buy them, and I tell all of his new assistants that helovespumpkin spice lattes then watch him shoot a spray of milk when he takes his first mouthful. Interestingly, he’s never once blamed his assistants for this. He somehow knew it was me all along.
Since the fantasy of having Tanner Wright in my bed fell through,teasingTanner Wright has become my newfound joy.
Barking at me is his. Something my nipplesandmy ovariesstillenjoy. Traitors.
Sigh.
I really am pathetic sometimes. But then, Tanneriscrazy hot, and just because I can’t have him for real, doesn’t mean my brain allows me to stop fantasizing about him. Not that my fantasies get me very far these days either—pull-out couch, anyone.
Double sigh.
I need to get my life under control.
I need to find my own awkward sidekick, someone who sees me for me and loves me completely.ThenI’ll be able to get past my attraction to Tanner. I seriously just want someone to love. I wasn’t lying when I told Theo I was lonely.
* * *
“I think we should join Tinder,”Tahlia says as we stand in line at the deli waiting to order. The offices forIconaren’t far from the station, so whenever I can, I call her up to grab a quick bite before I have to be at the station for the pre-show meeting. I’m running short on time, but I wanted to tell her all about the ad campaign and my idea to have Theo be Tanner’s stand-in. She thinks it could be the perfect solution to all our problems—she wants her space back too.
“What are we gonna do on Tinder?” I ask, shuffling along as the line moves. “Bring guys back to yours and put a sock on the door college style?” It’s my turn and I order a cup of soup and a grilled cheese.
“We could go to their place.” Tahlia asks for the chicken salad.
“And get murdered? No, thank you.” We collect our items and move along to the cashier.
“We could get murdered bringing guys back to my place too. It’s all a risk. But one I’m willing to take because Ineedto get laid. Neither of us has had a date in over three months.”
I pay the cashier for both meals as Tahlia looks at the guy in a suit beside her who’s just staring at her and smiling.
