Page 17 of Be My Reason

Chapter Five

“Lyn, you are a saint,” I hear as Emma comes dancing into the room. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

No, no, I don’t want to do this, but she is my best friend, my partner in crime and the other half of my female soul. And, if she asked me to, I would drive off a cliff with her.

“For the tenth time, yes, I am sure about this.” I roll my eyes.

“Okay then, Graham promised to keep it casual.”

Thank goodness for small favors.I’m beginning to really like Graham, in a he-is-perfect-for-my-best-friend kind of way. He is a nice person who seems to truly care about others. I really couldn’t be happier for Emma. It’s about time she found a man with staying power. I do wonder what she will do when we head back on Friday. Surely this is more than a week-long affair. I mean they haven’t slept together. Twenty-four hours of knowing a new, cute guy and no sex . . . that is a record for her. I wonder what he will think about her pre-Graham sexcapades.

I put on a pair of jeans and a cropped sweater.I do not wear heels, they suggest wanting to impress, and they make my hips wiggle a lot and the last thing I want is for Nate to be looking at my hips, or any other body part. I throw my hair into a low ponytail and dab on a little gloss and mascara.

Emma, on the other hand, goddess that she is, looks totally hot in her tight black jeans, strappy heels and fitted cap sleeve blouse.She has left her hair loose and straight. We are so completely different. I am the handmaiden to her princess, the Phoebe to her Rachel.

The guys are waiting for us in the lobby.I take a deep breath as they head over towards us. I can do this. For Emma. As if she reads my mind she pulls me into a quick hug and whispers, “I love you, Lyn. You are the best.”

Damn it.I was about to tell her no way in hell will I sit in the back seat with him, but I keep my mouth shut and vow to take one for the team.

As I suspected, Graham and Emma sit in the front with Nate and I in the back.I’m just glad Graham drives a large SUV. Mainly so I can stick to the no touching rule. I already had to walk around the car and let myself in as I wasn’t about to get in the door that Nate opened for me. I have to remember that he is still the snake who broke my seventeen-year-old heart. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that he ignores any reference to that night and to high school in general. I look at my watch, only three or four more hours to go . . . tonight.Ugh.

We end up at a local pizza hot spot.Dinner is quite uneventful with Emma and Graham once again hitting it off. I think I even saw some hand holding under the table, which was, thankfully, a square table with a chair on each side. Nate and I stay with safe topics like the weather, running and my bakery, which I am always happy to talk about.

“So, we thought we’d take you girls out for a little goofy golf after dinner,” Graham says.

“Um, what is that?” Emma looks confused and then adds, “You aren’t going to get us drunk and take us to a country club are you?”

Graham and Nate share a look and start cracking up.“No. But that could be arranged.” He winks at her. “Goofy golf. You know, miniature golf, putt-putt—whatever you southerners call it.”

“Oooo . . . that sounds like fun.” She looks at me. “Doesn’t that sound like fun, Lyn?”

“Loads,” I deadpan.

The golf place is right down the street. I’ve got to hand it to Graham, he is doing his best to accommodate me. This night just screams platonic. I’ve actually never played mini-golf before. Michael and I never have time for such things. I’m sure once he is an Attending, we will get to have all kinds of fun adventures. Until then, I’m happy simply running the shop and working towards my degree.

Graham gives us a rundown of the rules.There are rules?Then we each take our fluorescent-colored golf balls and putters over to a number-one marker. I tell them all to go first since I’ve never played. I watch them and think that it looks simple enough. Then I set down my bright-green ball and proceed to swing, leaving said ball exactly where I placed it.

Graham and Emma grab each other and try to muffle their laughter.Not very well I might add. I am, of course, turning three shades of red. How could I miss the ball? It looked so easy. I’m thinking about my next move when strong arms come around me, enveloping me as his hands grab the club over my hands. Together, we hit the ball—right into the little hole at the end of the green. Everyone cheers.

Everyone but me, that is.I turn around and swing my club at him like a bat. He barely has time to reach up and slow the momentum before it strikes his right arm.

“Ouch!” He says, too loudly.Give me a break, I didn’t even hit him as hard as I would have liked. “What the hell was that for?”

“For breaking rule number two,” I hiss through my teeth.

Emma walks over to where he is rubbing his arm and she pushes up his sleeve. “Nate, what kind of tattoo is that?” Now she has my full attention. I’ve wanted to know this since last night. Well, purely from a curiosity standpoint. I couldn’t see what it was yesterday or even today when he had his shirt off. I sigh.

Oh God, did I just sigh at the thought of him with his shirt off?

“Don’t bother, Emma.” Graham snaps his head in Nate’s direction. “He won’t even letmeget a good look at it and he sure as hell won’t talk about it.”

Nate looks irritated. “Mind your owngoddamn business, Graham.”

“Buddy, I’ll never understand why you would get a tattoo when you know people will want to see it and ask why you got it.” Graham shakes his head.

“Just because I got stupid drunk one night and did this,”— he motions to his arm, saying ‘this’ like it tastes bitter coming out of his mouth— “doesn’t make it any less personal. Let it go already.”

Personal.And he doesn’t want to talk about it. Just like he doesn’t want to talk about high school. Now it really is going to bother me. What the hell is that tattoo? It obviously says something but, not in English. Not German either. I should know. I took four years of it in high school.

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