Home > Asking For It

Asking For It
Author: Allyson Lindt

Chapter One

 


My friends and my business were the two things I loved most in this world.

They were also currently the two things causing me the most frustration. I was heading to my favorite all-night bookstore—could it still be a favorite if it was the only one?—in an attempt to take my mind off both.

I wasn’t sure I could enjoy the trip through my guilt, though. I’d blown off my friends’ invitation to spend time with them and their guys, by telling them I had to deal with my shop. Now I was here instead.

For years the three of us were Sadie, Anne, and Lyn. Three Musketeers. Peas in a pod. All sorts of cute phrases for things that just fit perfectly together. But things had changed since they landed themselves in long-term relationships. It wasn’t that they’d cut me out of their lives, but each of the was with two men, and most of that group consisted of our inner circle. Hanging out with them meant watching the flirting, the googly eyes, and subtle intimate touches. And now I was Lyn The Third Wheel. Seventh wheel? Either way, I was the spare, in the trunk for emergencies, but otherwise, on the outside looking in.

That analogy was crappy on a lot of levels, but no one was around to hear it, so I wasn’t going to fix it.

I wouldn’t wallow, though. They were happy, and I was genuinely glad to see that. Sometimes I just wasn’t in the mood to be immersed in their gooshiness.

All right, I was a teensy bit jealous that they each had two guys. I’d never had a problem getting laid. It was easy to hide my insecurities and extra pounds behind a mask for one night, but longer than that and both became evident.

Not wallowing. Not wallowing.

My night would be filled with enjoying a good book, and coffee made on someone else’s espresso machine.

The bookstore-slash-coffee-shop was nestled in a part of Sugar House where old and kitschy met new and trendy.

This was one of the original buildings in the area, and I loved the way vines crawled along the stonework outside. Inside had a similar feel, with solid bookshelves extending in every direction, and an eclectic collection of wrought iron and carved wood in the café.

I liked to wander when I came in here. There were certain sections I always hit up—romance, sci-fi fantasy, and manga—but I wanted to stroll past all the books, make sure I didn’t miss any or leave any lonely.

There were people in almost every aisle, reading, browsing, and lingering. It was a gorgeous sight.

I’d stay in the stacks for hours if I didn’t have to be up early in the morning. I wanted to buy everything that caught my eye. With all my spare money going back into Java Loading, my anime gaming café, I had to limit myself to only a few books.

Selections in hand, I paid, and made my way to the adjoining coffee shop. They had a new salted caramel, extra espresso, with a mocha whip drink that looked incredible.

And it was probably a billion calories. I got the no-caff, no-sugar, no-fat macchiato instead.

There was one free table left. Score. I took my drink and settled in to read. The chatter washed over me, making the scene in my book, where the heroine meets the hero in a crowded train station, feel more real.

“Excuse me,” a seductively deep voice said.

I glanced up from my book to find the owner of the voice watching me with starkly pale green eyes framed by black hair. Hello, sexy. “May I help you?” Some nights I might flirt with him, but I wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“I’m Fred, this is Barney.” He jerked his thumb at the guy with him. Who was just as gorgeous. Fred looked more professional, in a button-down shirt with the sleeves buttoned around his wrists, and Barney was in a faded concert T-shirt and battered jeans.

The serious one and the clown. Interesting, but not unique, combination. Stupid names. “I’m Betty.” I could play along with whatever their game was until they were gone. Especially for the view.

“Told you she was a Betty.” Barney nudged Fred. No surprise, Mister Concert T-shirt wasn’t as reserved, but he was just as nice to look at as his friend.

Fred pursed his lips, but turned a smile back on me. “We’re sorry to interrupt. There are no more free tables. May we share yours?”

It was a polite enough request. I gestured to the chairs next to me. “Help yourself.”

Fred nodded at my book. “It must be a good book.”

“It’s one of my favorite series.” It was the new issue of Spring Popcorn. The artwork was Japanese inspired, but the artist was local. The two main characters were male best friends who refused to admit they were in love. She had a stunning grasp of the male form, and the way she alluded to their will-we-won’t-we physical relationship was almost hotter than seeing it in vivid detail.

Almost. My imagination was happy to fill in the blanks. The same way it was doing right now with Fred and Barney. Hell, they could be the stars of the comic. Or my life. I didn’t have any issue slotting them into a fantasy or two, where I was the middle in a Bedrock sandwich.

“No spoilers. I’m two books behind,” Barney said.

He was reading this? “Then you probably don’t want to know that Haru turns into a dragon halfway through this one, to save everyone from the Nazi invasion.” I kept my tone serious. The series was strictly contemporary, with no magic, so I half-hoped he’d know I was teasing.

His grin was worth the joke. “I’d better catch up, then. Especially if there’s a little bit of dragon-on-best-friend action.”

“That’s a disturbing image.” Disturbingly intriguing.

Barney winked. “But you’re totally trying to figure out the logistics anyway.”

“Busted.” I was enjoying this more than I’d expected.

Fred nudged his friend. “We’ll let you get back to it. Thanks for letting us intrude.”

I’d read a while longer, and if they got too loud I’d go. Right. Like I could focus with two mister hotties sitting right here.

They kept their voices low enough that I had to strain to hear them, even though they were only a few feet away. Sounded like they were from out of town, but loving the city, and hoping to see more of it while they were here.

I wasn’t reading anything, despite trying my best to look like I was. I tried to block them out and pretend they weren’t impacting my universe with their manga-come-to-life looks and politely low conversation. It didn’t matter how hard I stared at the page in front of me, I wasn’t processing any of the words.

A tickle bubbled in my throat, and I reached for my coffee. When my fingers collided with the cup instead of grasping it, my gut sank. I’d missed.

Iced coffee splashed everywhere. Down my shirt. Over my slacks. On their shoes.

“I’m so sorry.” All my composure vanished, and I fumbled for napkins to mop the table.

Fred plucked my purse from the floor before the creeping puddle reached it, and my panic surged harder until he set the bag on my now-empty seat.

“Excuse me,” Barney hollered at a nearby employee, cranking my humiliation higher. “Can we get a mop over here?” He left, and returned a moment later with a stack of napkins. He handed me several. “Take care of yourself. We’ve got this.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled, and started patting coffee from my once-white top. The liquid suctioned my clothes to me, clinging to my boobs, every fat roll. The sooner I got out of here, the sooner I could tumble backwards into humiliation. Until then, I was going to be collected.

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