The Matchmaker's Replacement - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,31
out of the living room without TV time.”
Ian stood, then jerked the remote out of my hand. “So you’re staying home? Tonight? On the weekend?”
I yawned. “I’m beat . . .” With a smirk, I added, “And when I say I’m beat, I mean—”
He held up his hand. “There he is. I was worried for a minute.”
“Don’t sweat it, Mom, I’ve banged the appropriate number of single females this week at least a dozen times. I’m not sick, nor am I finally on the straight and narrow. I’m also happy to announce I made at least three bad decisions this week and got drunk on a Thursday night.”
Ian clapped.
Blake scowled and then let out a loud sigh as she stared at her phone.
“What?” Ian was by her side immediately. I made a whipping motion, but he flipped me off.
“Gabs,” she whispered. They both looked over at me, then moved away from the living room, probably assuming that talking about her in my presence would put me in a bad mood. Normally they’d be right.
But things hadn’t been normal for the past week, damn it.
My ears strained to hear their conversation but only picked up bits and pieces.
“She can’t afford it.”
What?
“No money . . .” And then I heard “Have you seen her cupboards?” More whispering. “Serena’s talking about moving in with her boyfriend.”
My body shook involuntarily. Serena—blonde, hot, with a nice rack—had been a horrible mistake. I’d taken one look at her and said, “She’ll do.”
Only she didn’t.
I did.
She simply lay there and then burst into tears after everything was over, saying, and I quote, “That was the most magical moment of my life.”
I couldn’t get away fast enough.
And even when I said, “That’s not magic, that’s just good sex,” she still didn’t believe me and seemed hell-bent on believing that we had some sort of connection between our souls.
“I tried!” Ian said, raising his voice a bit. “But she won’t accept it . . . and she won’t tell me what’s going on, but . . .” Damn it, talk louder!
More silence.
I stretched my body across the couch in order to get closer, but they’d moved to the farthest part of the living room, inconsiderate asshats!
After a few minutes, they came back into the room and said they were going to go out to dinner.
When I asked if Gabs was going with them, they both looked at me like I’d just spoken in Hebrew and asked if it was cool if I hosted Hanukkah.
“She’s got work,” Blake answered, while Ian made a face. Blake grabbed Ian’s hand and led him out of the room.
I jumped up from the couch. “Work? I’m her work. What do you mean, work?”
“I’m shocked.” Ian slammed his hand against his chest. “You mean you guys don’t tell each other everything?” He and Blake joined in laughter. “Since when do you care what Gabs does? Last time you used her name in a sentence, it was paired with so many four-letter words that I’m shocked you even know how to have a civil conversation with her.”
“Whatever.” I know my response was immature, but it was all I had. “I’m going to go call a random.”
“A random?” Blake asked.
“Don’t . . .” Ian shook his head. “It’ll just make you want to kill him, and I can’t keep the peace between him and Gabs and him and you. I’m only one man.”
“A random.” I smirked seductively even though I knew it was lost on her. “When I go through the school website, pick a girl’s number, call her, and then bang her in as many ways as possible, ruining her for all men.”
“I’m sorry I asked,” Blake mumbled.
I held up my hands. “Don’t hate the player.”
“Hate the game.” Blake waved me off. “Yeah, I know.”
“I was going to say hate the girl stupid enough to play with me . . .”
“Huh.” Blake nodded. “Yeah, that too . . .”
“Have fun running away from commitment and your feelings!” Ian yelled back to me as they walked out of the house.
I waved with my middle finger. “Have fun picking out wedding colors and sleeping with the same woman for the rest of your life!”
The door slammed behind them.
The living room was blanketed with tension. Nervous energy trickled through me as my leg started its incessant bouncing, my fingertips drumming against the same bouncy leg. I crossed my arms, trying to get the nervousness under control. It didn’t help.