Page 4 of Someone to Have
“I’m not looking at him like anything,” I say.
“He’s a manwhore, Tay,” Toby announces. His gaze flicks to Eric before landing back on me. “A manwhore with a heart, but not right for you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, man.” Eric seems to take the insult in stride, although his smirk goes a little tight around the edges.
“Dude, you can’t help it. It’s pheromones.”
Toby jabs a finger in my direction. “Youcanhelp it. Be gone with you and your granny panties.”
“I hate you,” I tell him, then switch my gaze to Eric Anderson, who’s still smirking with a tiny bit of glower added into the mix.While the combo is sexy as hell, it’s also just as annoying. “I hate you by association.”
“Duly noted,” he murmurs and his rough voice sends shivers across my skin. Stupid shivers.
To hide (hopefully) how discombobulated Eric makes me feel, I offer my middle finger once again. “I’m giving this conversation zero stars. Would not recommend. Have a lovely night, gentlemen.”
Both of them salute as I turn away and weave through the crowd of firefighters, greeting several of them, until I reach Avah and Molly at the table in the back.
“Who’s your brother’s friend?” Avah asks. “Talk about easy on the eyes.”
“He’s a conceited hockey jerk, and you’ve got a fiancé.” I take a long swig from the beer Toby gave me.
“I was looking for Molly. It’s time she got back out there.”
Molly chokes out a laugh. “I’m a single mom of twins who lives with my late husband’s mother.” She ticks off items on her fingers like she’s reciting a grocery list. “I haven’t shaved my legs since Thanksgiving, and I’m pretty sure my bra is a holdover from when I was still nursing my kids.”
“Girl, that’s sad.” Avah shakes her head. “Even for you.”
“Why am I the sacrificial set-up lamb?” Molly asks. “Taylor is more single than me.”
What a lovely reminder. “No need to make it a competition,” I protest.
My siblings and dad like to make everything a competition. Since I never have a chance of winning, I don’t bother to try—in most areas of my life, if I’m being honest.
“Tall, dark, and could-be-a-Hemsworth-brother isn’t Taylor’s type,” Avah says. “She likes guys with small hands.”
“Bryan doesn’t have small hands.” I roll my eyes. None of my friends understand the crush I have on Bryan Connor, one of my co-workers at the high school. But they’re wrong about himandhow perfect he is for me. Nothing like Eric “Hemsworth-look-alike” Anderson. “Just because he isn’t some ’roided-up hockey meatstick bagging every puck bunny who steps in his path doesn’t mean he isn’t attractive. Call me crazy, but I’m not looking to add an STD to my New Year’s bingo card.”
“She didn’t mean that how it sounded.” Avah stares at a spot past my shoulder as Molly cringes.
“I had blood work done last month,” a deep voice says from behind my chair. “Got the all-clear. Those puck bunnies better be on their A-game.”
I shift in my chair and find myself once again staring into Eric Anderson’s dark eyes. He’s definitely not smiling now.
2
TAYLOR
“Just wantedto say it was nice to meet you again, Taylor. And to tell you I’m sorry about your mom passing. She used to send chocolate chip cookies for all of us in her care packages—dozens of them. And when your parents came down for games, I remember her giving the best hugs. I’m sure losing her wasn’t easy.”
I keep very still because my heart is clenching with a sadness that has softened but not grown smaller in the past four years. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, I’m sure you’re not passing around STDs like candy.”
“High praise,” he mutters, tips his head to acknowledge my two friends, and walks away.
As Avah and Molly giggle, I thump my head on the table. It sticks to the wood. Ugh. “Oh my God, why did I let you two convince me to come out tonight? I could be at home right now and not making a complete ass of myself.”
“That’s what we want to talk to you about,” Avah says.
“Making an ass of myself?”
