Page 24 of Reeling in Love

“Yeah, why?”

“You seem a little lost. Are you sure you’re up for this? We could stay home if you like.”

Stay home? With her. Alone? Dressed like that? Yeah, of course, I’d like that.

“You miss Paula? Are you upset about what she did?” she asks, gently putting her hand on my thigh.

An electric current flows through my entire body. Jesus! How is she having this effect on me? She’s touched me a thousand times. Maybe more. But it was always platonic. And now this—when all I can think of is how those red lips will feel against mine and how her thighs will feel wrapped around me when I’m deep inside her. Shit. Shit, I need to stop.

She gives me a questioning look, waiting for an answer as I try to remember what she’d asked.

“Paula? Who?” I mumble, then realize who’s Paula. “I mean, no. Yeah, I’m fine.” I stand up, feigning excitement, and clap my hands. “C’mon. Let’s get going. We have a mission. To get you laid.”

“Woohoo. Yeah, baby. Let’s do this. Let us both get laid today.” She jumps up from the couch and pulls me up with her. “Ooh, I thought of another name. The ViralVixen.”

She curls up her hands into claws. “A taste of Paula for you,” she says, mock-snapping at me with her claws and jaws.

Yeah, we need to leave or I’ll do something I regret. I march over to the door as she sashays behind me.I have to get to the bar as fast as I can so I can bury this stupid, weird feeling I have for my best friend somewhere deep down so it can never surface again.

Chapter 9

Nora: #He’sMine

The night air is crisp and carries the distant hum of city life. I find the fast-paced life, the crowd, and the noise, calming. It feels as if it gives you the space to be who you want, unlike Cambridge, where I grew up. Here, in Boston, I feel comfortable, and at ease.

Gabs and I walk down the cobblestone streets toward our favorite bar. He’s uncharacteristically quiet. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s going on with him. He’s not his usual self, and I don’t think the professional upheaval is the sole reason. But if it’s because of something other than leaving MooreGames, what could it be?

Can the breakup with Paula affect him this way? Truth be told, I never pegged her to be his type. But then, what is his type? He’s been with all kinds of women without really being emotionally close to any.

That’s why he bounces right back from breakups. I don’t think he’s ever felt much about any girl, deep down. On the surface, he’s always the best boyfriend—whispering sweet nothings in their ears, opening doors, pulling back chairs, giving them his jacket in the cold. He does all the right things, but his heart is never affected. Could Paula have done the impossible?

Nah! Highly doubt it.

It’s something else. Or someone else. Sophia? Um. Maybe.

Whatever or whoever the reason, I don’t like to see him sad. Maybe good sex with a pretty girl will do the trick. It usually does.

We push open the heavy wooden door of O’Malley’s and the lively atmosphere envelops us. The sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft notes of a guitar fill the air. Just being here is uplifting and I see a smile creep into Gabs’ face.

He leads the way to our usual spot at the bar, his hand lightly grazing my lower back as we navigate through the crowd. We settle onto the barstools, and he signals the bartender.

“Two beers, please,” he orders, turning to me with his classic boyish grin. “So, what’s the game plan?”

I take a deep breath, glancing around the room. People are mingling, dancing, and clearly on the lookout for potential dates. It’s exciting. “I guess we just see who catches our eye?”

As the bartender slides our drinks over, Gabs raises his glass. “To finding someone special.”

“To finding someone special,” I echo, clinking my glass with his.

“Hey, Nora,” he says once we down our drinks, looking straight into my eyes.

“Yeah?”

“I...uh...nothing. Anyone catch your eye yet?”

I scan the people. “What about that one?” I say, pointing to a man sitting alone in a corner. He looks cute enough.

Gabs turns his gaze in the direction, then shakes his head. “Nah! Not your type, I’d say.” Then he pats me on the shoulder and points to someone behind me. “What about him? I see him giving you ‘the look’.”

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