Dragons Do It Nerdier (Dragon Shifters Do It Book 2), page 5
He’d asked me out four days ago, and he’d been perfectly normal since then: greeting me daily, reading books…not asking me out again.
Maybe he’d finished his research yesterday. Maybe yesterday had been his last day at the library.
I hoped not, because… My book, of course. Because of my book.
The words didn’t dry up. I could still see Dex in my head. Who could forget that face? The beard that added character rather than hiding his features, those sexy green eyes peering over his glasses. His smile. His devastating smile.
But without his presence, I wasn’t as focused.
Utterly bizarre. With as many covert glances as I sent his way, I’d have thought his absence would increase my productivity. Whether it was my efforts to look industrious (and therefore not like a stalker) or that the real-life version of Dex was just that inspiring, I didn’t know.
“You’re not quite as he described you.” The words penetrated the fog of my straying thoughts, and I realized a woman was standing near, watching me type.
Actually, watching me not type.
She wasn’t hovering, and a quick glance at my screen assured me she couldn’t see anything that would give me away. Or rather, that would give away Kitty Sweet.
Hold on a sec, she’d been looking for me? “I’m sorry?”
“Dex. He said I’d recognize you by the speed of your rapidly moving fingers. Said you typed like a hacker on a caffeine high.”
I started to grin at the analogy—because I was a little intense when I was in the zone—then realized Dex had sent a blonde bombshell babe to stalk me.
What the hell?
“He’s not usually a complete nut, so I figured I had to meet you.” With a self-deprecating smile, she said, “This is supposed to be like some kind of play date for grown-ups.”
Given what I’d been writing when the bubbly blonde appeared—or shortly before she appeared, before I got lost in thoughts of Dex and his devastating smile—it wasn’t so odd that I went dirty with that play date comment.
She held up a finger. “Whatever you’re thinking, I didn’t mean that.”
I blinked. Who was this woman?
She was like a mind reader, because she held out her hand and smiled. “I’m Taylor, Bain’s…ah, girlfriend.” When I just blinked, she added, “Dex’s friend Bain.”
I shook her hand. “You’re Dex’s friend’s girlfriend.”
She smiled brightly, as if I’d just grasped a complex concept. “That’s right.”
A covert scan of the immediate area revealed no lurking people with cameras. “And why are you here?”
“Partly because Dex is an idiot. Don’t frown, the man tried to set up two grown women on a play date. He’s an idiot. But mostly because I was curious. Also, he wasn’t wrong about me wanting to meet more people. I work from home.” She assumed a cute expression of consternation.
Everything this woman did was cute. Except for filling out her dress. She wore the most adorable fit-and-flare dress, retro fifties and not at all something I could carry off. With her curves, she made it look like something a pinup girl would wear. No, not so blatant. A movie star. Or a really elegant nineteen fifties housewife throwing a posh party.
I sighed. She was a talker, and she worked at home. I couldn’t help but feel some sympathy. “Dex decided that I’m a sad and pathetic excuse for a person who needs more friends, and that you need to meet more people, and so he set us up?”
“Sort of. I think I’m the one who’s sad and pathetic and needs more friends.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s familiar with the women who used to be my friends. They’re not awesome.”
“Which makes me the one needing to meet more people.” Only slightly better, but still kind of offensive.
Her lips quirked, like she was reading my mind and loving that I was ready to give Dex a smackdown. “He told me you just moved here.”
“That’s true. A few months ago from Houston.”
“And that you seemed like you might be a little shy,” she added.
No argument there. I made an impulsive decision and closed my laptop. “How does coffee sound?”
Her answering smile was blinding.
“Good, but a boozy brunch sounds better. I know a place with an amazing menu.” She gave me a sort of quick up-down look that I’d have missed if I wasn’t a natural observer of people. “Ah, assuming you eat carbs?”
I almost laughed, but managed to keep a straight face. “Are you calling me skinny?”
Her eyes got huge and her cheeks pink. “No. Unless you want me to?”
Since her cheeks were getting pinker by the moment, I cut her a break and let out the smile I’d been holding back. “I eat carbs. I have a fast metabolism.” I also ran and worked out, but that wasn’t any of Taylor’s business.
“Ugh, I already hate you and want to be you.” She grinned. “The perfect beginning to a friendship.”
I laughed. How could I not? She was sweet and she was funny, and she didn’t mind throwing Dex under the bus in a not too horrible way. All things which inclined me to like her. And since I currently had exactly one friend in Austin, I decided to go with my gut and give her a chance—even though Dex had sent her my way out of either pity or self-interest, the ass.
When I told her I’d walked, she offered to drive.
Surprise, surprise. The adorably cute, petite woman drove an adorably cute, petite car. It was pastel green and looked like it had just gotten a wax.
The interior was just as pristine.
“I swear there’s almost a new car smell in here. I love your car.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Thanks. I don’t get to drive it much, because Bain doesn’t find it very comfortable. I’m actually thinking of selling it.”
Sounded like she and this Bain guy were living in each other’s pockets if they were driving everywhere together. Also, what an ass, to make her feel like her car wasn’t up to snuff. “Let me know if you do. Seriously. I really like it.”
With a twitch of her lips, she said, “I can feel your disapproval. Bain’s six four.”
“Fair enough,” I murmured.
What I was really thinking was more along the lines of: what was it about really tall men and really short women? But I didn’t know Taylor well enough to voice that particular thought.
Not that I was tall at five six, but still, there seemed to be a dearth of men taller than me in heels. To be fair, I hadn’t worn heels in a while, but it was the principle of the thing.
Eh, not really. I just liked tall men.
Dex was definitely taller than me in heels. No contest.
“You’re totally thinking about your sexy lumberjack right now, aren’t you?” Taylor’s smirk made her a lot less cute. “Ha! I knew it. That look on your face, it’s priceless.”
“How exactly did you end up coming to the library for a play date?” I couldn’t help but use the word. It was so perfect. I definitely felt like a kid being set up with a potential friend.
“Oh, my. That’s sort of a long story.” She sighed. “One that involves a cheating dick, a skinny bitch who actually turned out to be quite nice, a little body-shaming, and a lot of slut shaming.”
I stared. It was kind of a lot.
Then I smiled, because this shit was book gold. “Tell me everything.”
Which was how we ended up chatting about all the things over brunch and booze. Taylor just waved a hand when she ordered her second drink. “Bain will sort it all out. I already sent him a text telling him he’s responsible for transportation.” She leaned close, and I could see her pupils were large and her cheeks quite pink—and that was just from one drink. “I never take the afternoon off. Like ever. Not even for hot dragon sex.” She blushed bright red at that little slip, which she needn’t have, because what the hell was dragon sex? Then she said, “Since we’re here and I’m not about to go crunch numbers… Did I mention I’m a bookkeeper?”
I nodded. She had.
“Well, I can’t crunch numbers like this, and we’re having a drunk girls’ brunch, so I’m getting drunk. Not drunkity drunk, just toasty tipsy.”
Oh, my. Taylor was a talker when sober. A little drunk, she was a woman who would spill all the tea. Gotcha, Dex. Before we parted ways, I was getting the scoop on my nerdy-hot library guy.
But first—“Tell me about the cheating dick. And the skinny bitch. But mostly tell me about the shits who body-shamed you, because they were definitely shits. And women. No man is ever saying a bad word about…” I looked her up and down, the implication obvious even to a drunk woman.
It was rude as hell to comment on her physical appearance. Even if I didn’t say the words, my meaning was clearly implied. But how could I not? She was a knockout by anyone’s standards, and too “toasty tipsy” to take offense.
And who said shit like toasty tipsy? Taylor was awesome.
“Aww. I knew I liked you. You’re sooo sweet.” She scrunched up her nose and made a cutesy face. “Like honeysuckle: hidden, but darling when found.”
That analogy didn’t exactly track, but she was halfway into her second champagne cocktail, and these were the kind with alcohol, not juice, mixed in. Hence a cocktail and not a mimosa. Girl knew how to party, even if she didn’t do it often.
But these sweet assumptions she was making about me, definitely wrong. “I think you’re looking through rose-tinted champagne glasses.”
She wrinkled her nose again. “You and Bain would totally get along. Oh!” She perked up. “No, you and Dex are definitely gonna get along.” Then she winked. Really awkwardly.
It was hilarious.
“Tell me about the dick.”
And that was all it took. I got a fiction-worthy story of cheating (that would be the cheating dick of an ex-fiancé) and love (that would the man-mountain known as Bain) and redemption (that would be the skinny bitch who turned out to be cool and clueless that there was a fiancée). That last bit was an unexpected twist, because the redeeming wasn’t from an expected character.
“You should totally go out for coffee with the skinny bitch. She sounds like the best kind of bitch. The not bitchy kind.”
“Right?” She leaned forward for emphasis, swaying slightly. But did appear on board with my idea. “And maybe I should stop calling her the skinny bitch?”
I laughed, because that was funny as hell, and I’d had two drinks myself. “Yeah, probably a good idea. What’s her name?”
“Susie.” Another nose wrinkle. “She’s like you, all fit and slinky and svelte.”
As a writer, I was fairly sure women weren’t slinky, but hey—what did I know? Maybe it was slang. Or a drunk Taylor word. Probably that second one.
Also, I was wearing my usual writing gear, the mother of all sweaters. Fluffy and warm and huge, the thing hung past my ass and swallowed me. Not sure how she could tell whether I was slinky.
“You have her number, right?” Taylor had mentioned running into the skinny bitch, aka Susie, after she and Bain started dating.
“Yep.” She popped the P, then slid her phone toward me.
I slid it back. “Unlock, please.”
And she did. That was how trusting—or toasted—she was. I was definitely ordering her a flavored club soda in a cocktail glass when the waitress came by again.
I found Susie under Susie: William’s Ex. “I’m texting her. ‘Kay?”
She nodded. “Meant to. Keep forgetting.”
She blushed, and I couldn’t help wondering if dragon sex was on her brain. Google and I would be speaking later, and if the internet couldn’t get me sorted, I had another source or two to ask. Online writer friends were great for research. Also, I was writing a book with a were-dragon. I should know what the hell dragon sex was.
After identifying myself as Taylor’s brunch buddy, I tapped my way to a Sunday coffee appointment at ten. I figured Taylor might be rough tomorrow, depending on how the rest of her day went today, but the following day she should be okay. I hoped. Otherwise I was going to feel bad. A little like I fed a kid too much candy on Halloween, except there was alcohol involved and we were still a few weeks shy of that particular holiday. The kid part was spot on, though. Probably the spark of joyful innocence I saw in her. The sad thing was that there wasn’t anything inherently juvenile in that; I’d just lost mine when I was a child.
Her phone vibrated in my hand, chasing away maudlin thoughts.
“Susie’s thrilled and asked if I’m coming.”
“Absolutely.” Taylor sipped on her third drink.
Dammit. I’d missed the waitress while I was fiddling with her phone. She was slippery for a drunk person.
“All right. You’re all set up to meet your cheating dick-face ex’s ex-hookup.” I raised my eyebrows. “Your life is a little weird.”
Which warmed my heart. I loved it when I discovered other people didn’t have completely normal, white-bread-with-American-cheese-and-no-crust lives.
After growing up with my dad, I’d have thought everyone was into doughy, undercooked, tasteless, processed food…metaphorically.
“Oh yeah.” She nodded like that was no big deal. And the warmth in my chest expanded.
“You’re a really fun drunk.” When she frowned, I amended to, “toasty tipsy.”
“Ah, I might be at fucks drunk.” She squinted at her drink. “I’ve never had more than one of these before.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what fucks drunk was.
“Fuck, yeah. I’m drunk.” She made gimme hands and reached for her phone.
I covered it just long enough to ask, “Is this that moment when I try to prevent you from sending inappropriate texts while inebriated?”
“Hell, no.” She smiled as she looked up at me from under her lashes. “I’m just gonna warn Bain.”
I laughed out loud as I handed her the phone. I hadn’t had this much fun in ages.
Which was sad. Not that Taylor wasn’t a blast, just sad that the most fun I’d had since moving here was with a woman I’d met less than two hours ago.
When she was done texting and blushing, I said, “Tell me about Dex.”
“Oh, awesome! We’re doing this!” She looked around, made a face, then said in a much quieter voice, “What do you want to know? There’s the obvious: the nice laugh, the nice beard, the nice eyes, the nice—” She waved her hand. “—everything else.”
I wouldn’t have gone with nice, but then, I also wasn’t in a relationship with another man. “I was thinking more about the parts I can’t see.”
Her eyes widened, then she wrinkled her nose. “Oh, you mean like his personality.”
Ha! This lady. But I just asked in a practical tone, “Unless you want to tell me about his other less visible parts?”
“No!” Her eyes narrowed, squinting suspiciously. “You’re totally messing with me.”
“I am absolutely messing with you.”
“Whew. Because I really can’t talk about Dex’s junk. Pretty sure Bain would pick up on it psychically and get his man feelings hurt.” She smiled sweetly. “But I can talk about what a nice guy Dex is.”
“Nice, huh?”
She slurped the last of her drink. This time I wasn’t going to miss the waitress. She seemed to catch on, because she grinned. “Don’t worry. That was my last one. But yes, Dex is nice. You wanna go out with a guy who isn’t? I did that. It sucks.”
“Yeah, no arguments. That guy sucked.” I ran my finger along the sweating exterior of my half-full glass. Unlike Taylor, I hadn’t chugged my second round. “So when you say nice, you mean not the kind of guy who cheats.”
“Definitely not. Dex wouldn’t. No way.” She looked seriously wigged out by the idea.
“You know him that well, huh?” I couldn’t help it; she was just so bothered by even the idea, and so emphatic in her denial, and yet, friendship and romantic relationships were worlds apart. Dex could be a loyal friend and yet a complete sleaze when it came to women.
“Look, I’m sure he gets around. He’s hot. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that if Dex is in a relationship, he’s going to be faithful. It’s how they’re built.”
“They?”
“Bain, Dex, Archer.” When I shook my head, she said, “I keep forgetting we haven’t known each other forever, because it feels like we have. Archer’s the other one.”
“Ah, right. The other one.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. They’re all really good friends. From way back. Way, way back.”
So, college buddies. Probably in a frat together. Possibly also an athletic team of some kind. If they were local Texas boys, it would be football, no doubt.
“You think I should go out with him.” Not really a question. It seemed pretty obvious that Taylor was pro-Dex. She was dating the guy’s college bestie.
“I think that you should do exactly as you like.” She leaned forward, suddenly quite serious. “I’m not here to convince you to go out with Dex. I’m here to meet you. I had a feeling we’d get along.” Then she rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’m a little psychic. Sounds kooky, but it is what it is, so I try not to ignore the universe when she winks at me.”
The fact that I only flinched slightly at the mention of psychic abilities was a sign of how much I liked Taylor. “Not so kooky. My neighbor cast a love spell and told me it found the other half of me.”
“No—really?” She rubbed her hands together. “Tell me more. Is he tall, dark, and handsome? Dex is almost as tall as Bain, sort of dark, and definitely handsome…if you’re into lumberjacks. Are you into lumberjacks?”
Ignoring the question, I said, “Ah, yeah, she wasn’t talking about Dex.”
If only. Then maybe I’d avoid another setup with a nearing fifty, determinedly single bachelor with a strong dislike of romance novels.
“How do you know? Did you meet this mystery man?”
“That’s a hard no. She’s fixated on one of our neighbors.”
“Oh, awkward.”
I tapped the table. “See, Mathilde doesn’t get it. The potential corner store run-ins, the coffee shop mishaps, there are so many ways that can go wrong. And I don’t trust her judgment. She keeps trying to set me up with these completely inappropriate guys.”
