Nine Marines' Shared Property - Nicole Casey Page 0,8

the future. Something tells me this won’t be the last time I try to get a date with you.” He left me dumbfounded, turned, and walked out of the cafe.

I watched him leave then stood there staring at the door. What just happened?

“Who was that?” said Christy.

I kept staring at the door and said, “A Marine, friend of the guys from last night.”

“Damn. They should make a calendar.”

“He just asked me out.”

“I hope you had the good sense to say yes.”

I blinked and shook my head.

I wasn’t in the right mental state to think about men, and they were coming at me so fast. Fortunately, we got pretty busy at the cafe, and I was able to distract myself with work. Unfortunately, the diversion only lasted a few hours.

“I know you’re trying to take a break from guys,” said Christy. “If that tall muscular blond hunk comes back and tries to ask you out again, I’ll throw myself at him, see if that won’t keep him off you.”

“Thank you, Christy.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

The cafe had emptied quite quickly, and I was left with nothing to take my mind off the recent days’ confusing events. “Military guys,” I muttered and shook my head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Christy.

I shrugged. “They have a reputation, that’s all.”

“Of being great in bed?”

“Of being unfaithful,” I said.

Christy dismissed the comment. “That’s why I don’t get attached. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “But I’m just not like that. I get attached quickly. I get attached, and I get hurt.”

There was a long pause in the conversation as we both looked out past the terrace, past the street, past the beach, lost in our thoughts. Finally, Christy broke the silence. “A reputation doesn’t mean they’re all like that. Manny and Nolan seemed like genuine good guys, I think.”

I sighed. I’d thought the same, but I had enough experience to know that guys who appear genuine aren’t always so. “You know they made a bet: they raced here from the base; first one here got to ask me out.”

She looked at me perplexed. “And what happened? Was it a tie?”

I laughed. “No. Manny won. But I turned him down. Then, we decided just to go out as a group.”

Now Christy laughed. “So your idea of turning a guy down is to go out with him but bring along more girls?”

I frowned at her. “It wasn’t a date.”

“If you say so.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s like I’m just a game to them, a competition. I feel like I should be upset. But to tell you the truth, I’m not.”

“It’s flattering,” said Christy.

“Yes, it is. Flattering and exciting.”

Christy grabbed my arm. She squeezed and I turned to her then to where she was looking. “What is it?”

“He’s back?”

“Who? Where?”

She nodded in the direction she was looking. “The hot blond guy from earlier.”

“Where? I don’t see him.”

“Walking toward us, behind the couple pushing a stroller.”

I caught a glimpse of him, or a glimpse of a guy dressed like him.

“Let’s make our own bet,” said Christy with excitement. “The first one of us he says hello to has to give him a compliment loaded with sexual innuendo.”

I laughed. “I don’t think I could do that.”

“Please,” she said incredulously. “I saw you flirting last night.

“I mean, I don’t think I could come up with a sexual innuendo on the spot.”

“It could be anything. He’s a guy; it doesn’t have to be good. He’ll be flattered. How about...” She looked up at the sky like that’s where the sexual innuendos gathered. “How about: Back so soon? I don’t mind a man who’s bad at playing ‘hard to get’, as long as he’s good at playing ‘getting hard’.”

“I’m not saying that!”

“Well, think of something,” she said softly, “Here he comes.”

As he approached, he looked straight ahead as if he wasn’t planning on turning and coming into the cafe. For a moment I thought he was simply going to pass us by. Whatever I was telling myself, ‘I’m not interested; I’m not ready to date,’ I couldn’t deny that for that moment I felt disappointed, almost crushed.

But then he turned and walked up to the front door.

I took a step back and held my breath.

He gave Christy a slight nod and walked right past her. “Hello, Gwen.”

“Hi, Taylor.” I caught Christy behind him, looking at me with wide eyes and expectation stamped on her face. Maybe because it was just a silly game—a game the boys started—I felt no