he’s
kind of perverted.” He looked up at Damon. “Man, I don’t know—”
“So…” he asked, expecting Alexander to draw
some conclusions.
“She likes someone who doesn’t take himself
too seriously, someone who can laugh at himself. But I do that. I’m
just not a pervert or anything.”
“You’re missing what she’s telling you. This
dude’s a pervert, you say? Maybe or maybe not. If he’s talking
about sex though, he’s saying he doesn’t mind talking about it with
Marisa. And that tells her that he’s not always thinking about it,
or when he does think about it, he doesn’t necessarily think about
having sex with her. Which makes her wonder why. It makes her
actually think of having sex with him.
“Women know guys think about sex. There’s no
denying that. Why not be upfront about it? Like it’s a fact of
life. That it can be fun. And if you don’t talk about it, she may
automatically assume that you’re thinking about it but are too
ashamed or scared to talk about it. It makes her feel like you’re
hiding something or that you’re trying to manipulate her into
having sex with you.”
“So I should tell her I want to have sex
with her?”
Damon smacked him upside the head. “That’s
for being a dumbass. What you failed to do with Marisa is encourage
her to find you attractive. You didn’t build any sexual tension.
Practically every woman wants her best male friend as her lover. So
she wants to find you attractive. I guarantee it.
“But you’ve failed. Big time. So she ends up
going to that moron, Brad. Focus on why Marisa called him tonight.
Because we know she did. She broke it off with some guy and she
needs something Brad can give her. And it doesn’t have anything to
do with sex.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Exasperated, Damon threw his hands up in the
air. “If you want to become the man you always hoped to be,” he
shouted, “you better find out how to do it!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Just after Brad left their table, Marisa
accepted a shot of Vodka Skyy from Lauren and downed it, then
chased it with a sip of Diet Coke. She rarely drank heavy liquor,
preferring to stick with a light beer, but the prospect of seeing
her best friend in a potential fight with her…what did she consider
Brad?
One night, four or five months ago, Marisa
lay in bed beside him and noticed a huge rift between them: she
couldn’t imagine lying on the couch watching a movie with him,
couldn’t imagine going grocery shopping with him, couldn’t imagine
him rocking a baby in his arms while he cooed in their child’s ear.
In short, she didn’t see a future with him, not because she
couldn’t envision that type of future, but because she got the
impression that he couldn’t.
In a place where she should have felt as
close in spirit to him as she felt in proximity, Marisa had never
felt further away from anyone in her life. And with him sleeping
peacefully beside her, she’d spent the rest of the night weeping
silently because they would never have the deep, emotional
relationship she hoped for.
Having come to the conclusion that they were
not meant to be together in a romantic sense at that point, Marisa
stopped seeing him. However, she hadn’t exactly told him how she
felt. Perhaps his encounter with Alexander wasn’t the only reason
she’d had a shot of liquor. She needed a little extra courage to
admit the truth.
Lauren placed another shot in front of her.
“Down the hatch,” she said and knocked one back.
As Marisa swallowed maybe half of the shot,
she didn’t even remember Lauren leaving to get another round. To
avoid dealing with one issue that she expected to face tonight,
talking with Brad, she decided to revisit her conversation with
Lauren about Alexander. “I can’t imagine my life without him in
it.”
Since Lauren was so familiar with Marisa’s
convoluted thought process and the way she jumped from topic to
topic, she said, “You’ll be surprised
kind of perverted.” He looked up at Damon. “Man, I don’t know—”
“So…” he asked, expecting Alexander to draw
some conclusions.
“She likes someone who doesn’t take himself
too seriously, someone who can laugh at himself. But I do that. I’m
just not a pervert or anything.”
“You’re missing what she’s telling you. This
dude’s a pervert, you say? Maybe or maybe not. If he’s talking
about sex though, he’s saying he doesn’t mind talking about it with
Marisa. And that tells her that he’s not always thinking about it,
or when he does think about it, he doesn’t necessarily think about
having sex with her. Which makes her wonder why. It makes her
actually think of having sex with him.
“Women know guys think about sex. There’s no
denying that. Why not be upfront about it? Like it’s a fact of
life. That it can be fun. And if you don’t talk about it, she may
automatically assume that you’re thinking about it but are too
ashamed or scared to talk about it. It makes her feel like you’re
hiding something or that you’re trying to manipulate her into
having sex with you.”
“So I should tell her I want to have sex
with her?”
Damon smacked him upside the head. “That’s
for being a dumbass. What you failed to do with Marisa is encourage
her to find you attractive. You didn’t build any sexual tension.
Practically every woman wants her best male friend as her lover. So
she wants to find you attractive. I guarantee it.
“But you’ve failed. Big time. So she ends up
going to that moron, Brad. Focus on why Marisa called him tonight.
Because we know she did. She broke it off with some guy and she
needs something Brad can give her. And it doesn’t have anything to
do with sex.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Exasperated, Damon threw his hands up in the
air. “If you want to become the man you always hoped to be,” he
shouted, “you better find out how to do it!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Just after Brad left their table, Marisa
accepted a shot of Vodka Skyy from Lauren and downed it, then
chased it with a sip of Diet Coke. She rarely drank heavy liquor,
preferring to stick with a light beer, but the prospect of seeing
her best friend in a potential fight with her…what did she consider
Brad?
One night, four or five months ago, Marisa
lay in bed beside him and noticed a huge rift between them: she
couldn’t imagine lying on the couch watching a movie with him,
couldn’t imagine going grocery shopping with him, couldn’t imagine
him rocking a baby in his arms while he cooed in their child’s ear.
In short, she didn’t see a future with him, not because she
couldn’t envision that type of future, but because she got the
impression that he couldn’t.
In a place where she should have felt as
close in spirit to him as she felt in proximity, Marisa had never
felt further away from anyone in her life. And with him sleeping
peacefully beside her, she’d spent the rest of the night weeping
silently because they would never have the deep, emotional
relationship she hoped for.
Having come to the conclusion that they were
not meant to be together in a romantic sense at that point, Marisa
stopped seeing him. However, she hadn’t exactly told him how she
felt. Perhaps his encounter with Alexander wasn’t the only reason
she’d had a shot of liquor. She needed a little extra courage to
admit the truth.
Lauren placed another shot in front of her.
“Down the hatch,” she said and knocked one back.
As Marisa swallowed maybe half of the shot,
she didn’t even remember Lauren leaving to get another round. To
avoid dealing with one issue that she expected to face tonight,
talking with Brad, she decided to revisit her conversation with
Lauren about Alexander. “I can’t imagine my life without him in
it.”
Since Lauren was so familiar with Marisa’s
convoluted thought process and the way she jumped from topic to
topic, she said, “You’ll be surprised
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