Page 15 of Stirred Up

“Yeah, two ER nurse hotties I met when I picked you up the other day. Shawna and…” he thinks a moment, eyes pinched, “Annie! So we probably shouldn’t miss it. If you’re up to coming, sis, you might want to find a date too, unless you’re cool with being fifth wheel?”

Right back to the brother I want to maim. For years, this has been our thing and he just goes and changes it upandrefers to me, an original founder, as the fifth wheel?

Oh hell no!

“I’ll be there.” I jut out my chin. “With a date, ahotone that will have your girls drooling!”

Brady chuckles behind me, squeezing the arm he never released from catching me earlier. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.” He turns his head back and shoots off to Dylan, “Try not to lock me into any more blind dates while I’m gone. And no more fucking with the sanctity of Tiko night, man. Not cool.”

Chapter 6

T-minus eight hours to find a date, how hard can that be? Aren’t guys always bitching how a woman can wake up and declare, “I’m gonna get laid today” and make it happen, but a man has to wait tillshedecides? So a simple date, preferably a hot one? Piece of cake.

I arrive at work unshowered, my skin crawling with grime because of the slight change of course at the gym. I compensate by spritzing myself with one of my handy new purchases to freshen up and move on. I’ve pushed all nagging thoughts of Dr. Reynolds, Brady, and stimulating play from my head and am focused on my immediate goals:work, find a date.

Mimi greets me as I turn on the lights, fire up the computers, and flip on the open sign. Rushing through morning feedings, I feel bad shortening some of the ear rubs, but I’ve got to make extra time for my date search.

Finishing up and still the only one here, I consult the contact list in my phone. Eleven males. Eleven, which isn’t exactly a self-esteem boosting number. And of those one is Brady, five more are actual relatives, two are now married, and one is…yep, he died last year.

Of the remaining three, I’d tried to date two...delete both.

Last one—Dr. Reynolds’ office.

Alrighty then, plan B it is. I quickly fire up Facebook, searching madly though my friends list. I don’t know half these people, some of whom no one knows, because they’re not real people. Scznyi Axyzges wants to be your friend? Can’t date a guy whose name I can’t pronounce or lives a continent away, can I?

Nevermind.

My forehead drops pitifully onto the desk, rethinking the fake stomach virus ploy. Who wants me tagging alonganyway? Maybe we’ve outgrown our tradition.

I’m pulled out my self-deprecating lull when my phone beside me dings with a text. One guess who it is.

Brady:Not the same w/out you, Moe. Say the word and it’s pizza at yours. Or if you’re actually sick, say that, and it’s Dr. Me & Patient You. Soup included.

The smile that breaks across my face is uncontainable.

Me: I’ll be there @ 7

Brady: Then so will I

Going stag doesn’t bother me now. I’m not the odd duck, the newbie, the outsider—their dates are. I’ll be back next week. Them? Chances are slim to none.

When four o’clock rolls around and no date is in sight, I’m okay with it. I’m gently getting “Bruiser,” a small poodle whose leg got casted today, settled in a cage when in walks Ricky, followed closely by a yellow mop bucket he’s towing.

“Hey, Addison, how ya been?”

Once the dog’s situated, I close the cage and stand, greeting him somewhat uncomfortably. “Good, you?”

Ricky’s not at all ugly, he’s quite attractive, in fact, with striking blue eyes, golden skin, a nice physique and mussedblond hair. He’s everything most girls are looking for... until he opens his mouth.

“Fine,” he grins lewdly, speaking to my chest. “View’s pretty damn good too.”

Told ya. Bad idea, Addison, you were just resolved to going stag, keep walking.

“Any big plans for the weekend?” I ask with no idea why.Friendly, simply being friendly.

His eyes widen, as shocked by my question as I am. Of the million times he’s tried to engage me in conversation, this is the first time I’ve bitten.

“Dunno, little of this, little of that.” He wags his eyebrows suggestively. “Why do you ask, gorgeous?”

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