shady brady.

Since Kendra cancelled happy hour on Wednesday I made her get drinks with me on Thursday night. I hadn’t had a chance to tell her about my birthday or meeting Brady’s parents. She showed up late to the bar and I immediately demanded she take a shot. Then I rambled on and on about my birthday dinner and the rooftop afterwards. How I had fought with Derrick once again, how Jessica had showed up and rubbed Brady’s thigh, how Brady said he was falling for me.

“Why are you always fighting with Derrick? He’s like the most harmless person on the planet,” she said as if that was highlight of the story.

“Because he’s annoying,” I said, dismissively. “Anyways, what about Jessica? I went to see Brady at work yesterday and they were going to lunch together.”

“So? It’s lunch, not some scandalous rendezvous.”

“How do we know that?”

“Did you ask Brady about it?”

I looked at her like she suggested a threesome between the three of us. “I’m not asking him anything. I would sound like some jealous, mega-attached psycho.”

“He said he’s falling for you, Reese. He isn’t hooking up with Jessica. I’m sure she just has a huge crush on him and he probably likes the attention.”

What she said made sense, but then I realized that I give Brady enough attention so he shouldn’t have to seek any from Jessica. I took a sip of my martini then told Kendra about Brady’s parents. Her only conclusion was that I should’ve never mentioned Obama and that it was obvious (even just from hearing my story) that they were Republicans. She’s right. I definitely should’ve seen the clues.

Finally, I asked her to tell me about her vacation with John.

“It was a ton of fun. We love any chance we can get away from the city,” she said.

“Let me see your ring.”

Kendra rolled her eyes. “He didn’t propose, Reese.”

Thankfully. As much as I like to tease Kendra about getting engaged, the day it happens I’m going to be devastated. Because once she becomes a married woman, she won’t want to go out for drinks and happy hour and get belligerent on weekends. She will become this serious housewife and only want to spend time with her husband. And then she will start having children and we will no longer have anything in common. I would basically be losing my best friend.

After drinks, I texted Brady to see if he was off work yet and he said that he was exhausted and working late. This struck me as weird and all of my insecurities about Jessica came rushing back to the surface. First of all, he was always exhausted – we both were – so why was that an excuse not to hang out? We hang out every single night no matter what time he got off. I didn’t text him back and instead took a relaxing two hour shower and got ready for bed.

I checked my phone and Brady had texted me again saying that he was off work and could come over if I was still up. Oh sure, now that he was done fucking Jessica he wanted to hang out with me.

I put my phone down with no intention of responding and got in bed. I started thinking about how hurt Brady looked when I admitted I didn’t open his gift. How he had bought me a plane ticket to Houston because he sensed that I missed my family. I never expressed to him how much I really did, but he picked up on those clues. Finally, I thought about how he said he was falling for me. As much as I hate to admit it, I think I’m falling for him too.

I quickly picked up my phone and told him that I was sorry, but already in bed. I couldn’t possibly pretend to be mad at him even if I have some suspicions about Jessica.

On Friday, we had our weekly staff meeting and I was going to present some mockups for the watercolor artist collaboration to see if anyone thought it would be worth it.

After I presented, Whitney insisted she share some ideas she’s working on. It really annoyed me because she is supposed to be assisting me with my ideas, not coming up with her own. We are a team, not in competition. She started with the “discount furniture bazaar” idea and talked about how we could be exposed to a ton of clients who had never heard of us. Duh. Because people who can afford our stuff don’t shop at flea markets.

I raised my hands and expressed my concerns about the message it would send if we were being associated “discount.”

Before Whitney could respond, Dave said, “You know, it might actually be good for us. We don’t want to come off as a snobby company. If we make our products available to people who are price conscious, it will show humility.”

I didn’t say anything. Did I mention that I’m a control freak? I am in charge of all marketing and promotion and I know what’s best for the company. I can’t let this flea market shit go down.

Brady called around 7:30 and invited me over. I stuffed some clothes and toiletries in my bag and headed over there.

“Welcome,” Brady said, letting me in. He was still in his clothes from work and I realized that I missed him on the one day we didn’t get to hang out.

“Hello,” I chirped, hugging him. He nuzzled his face in my neck and I felt a tingle rush down between my legs. I pulled away and kissed him. “How was your day?”

“It’s Friday so I can’t complain. Do you want a beer?”

I followed him into the kitchen and he grabbed two beers while I poured a glass of wine. We took our libations to his room and sat there talking about our days. I steered clear of complaining about Whitney because clearly he would take her side. Eventually he said he was going to take a quick shower and I changed into sleeping clothes and got in bed.

I noticed his phone sitting on the night table next to me and I casually picked it up. His background picture was of a German Shepherd dog which I couldn’t decide if I thought was cute or weird. It honestly should have been a picture of me. I was surprised that when I slid to unlock his phone that he didn’t have a passcode so I had full access to everything. I honestly didn’t expect to find anything though.

I looked through the apps he had downloaded, all normal things like his bank, Google Maps, GroupMe, etc. I opened his messages: Me, Mom, Chris… Then I saw the thread with Jessica. I couldn’t even stop myself from opening it.

All the messages were very innocent – at first. Things like “Have a good weekend.” and “The fourth floor is crazy right now.” Mostly Jessica sending messages and Brady responding. Very one sided. I scrolled up more and saw conversations about sports that I didn’t even bother reading because they were so long and I don’t even care about sports. I kept scrolling up until I saw a picture. Jessica sent it – it was of her in a tight black dress taken in a full length mirror.

“Going out tonight. Do you like my outfit?” she’d captioned.

Brady responded, “Looks great.”

I kept scrolling up and then I came upon another picture from Jessica. In this one she was in the same mirror, but she was completely naked. I could see everything – her huge tits (I thought my boobs were pretty big, but hers take the cake), faint bikini tan line, landing strip, and tiny hip tattoo. There was no caption and Brady responded, “Very nice.” I checked the date – May 24. Before Brady and I even met.

I continued refreshing older messages and finding more nude pictures. All from Jessica. She would change her pose up – one where she was touching her vagina, another showed a close up of her boobs and face with her finger in her mouth. Brady always responded with something like “Nice” or “Looks good.” I felt like I was suffocating. I know it all happened before we had even met, but obviously he and Jessica have sexual history and he didn’t bother telling me.

I heard the shower turn off and I quickly sent two of the naked pictures to myself then hopped out of bed. I was embarrassed and hurt, but mostly really fucking pissed off.

I was waiting outside the door when Brady emerged from the shower. He was just wearing a towel around his waist and had water dripping down his chest. I held up his phone with a shaky hand.

“What the fuck?” I said slowly because I couldn’t even think of anything else to say.

Brady looked confused. “What?”

I opened one of the naked pictures and showed it to him. He looked at it blankly.

“I can’t fucking believe this.”

He walked passed me and sat on the bed.

“How could you introduce me to Jessica and fail to mention that you guys have had some sort of sexual relationship in the past?”

Brady didn’t say anything.

“No wonder she’s been giving me condescending looks. Y’all are probably still hooking up,” I said.

“No,” Brady said calmly.

“Did you fucking have sex with her?” I demanded.

“No!” he exclaimed as if that was the most ridiculous conclusion I could’ve come to after seeing the pictures.

“Then what happened?”

When he didn’t answer, I said, “And don’t say ‘nothing’ because that’s a fucking lie.”

“Once,” he said, quietly. “We went in an empty patient room. And she…” He trailed off.

“She what?”

He started making gestures with his hands that told me he didn’t know what to say.

“She sucked your dick?”

Brady sighed. “Yeah.”

“You’re fucking gross,” I glared at him.

I suddenly remembered back to the night of the charity event when I tried to have sex with him in the bathroom and he told me no. He couldn’t hook up with me at a work event, but he could hook up with Jessica at work? I don’t know if I overestimated him or underestimated him. I thought he was too mature and conservative to do such a thing in a public place, but clearly he was very capable of it.

“I owe you a huge apology. I withheld that information because I am not proud of it. I understand why you’re upset and you deserved to know.”

I crossed my arms across my chest.

“I’m terribly sorry. I’m really embarrassed,” Brady said.

“You’re embarrassed?” I seethed. “Imagine how I feel. You’re flaunting Jessica in my face knowing what happened between y’all. Do you understand how stupid it makes me look? Now the b-day comment and the thigh touching all makes perfect sense.”

Brady’s brow furrowed.

“Is there anything I can do to remedy this situation?” he asked very calmly.

“No!” I screeched. And then I became aware of the delicate iPhone in my hand. No protector case or passcode? Silly Brady. “Have a nice life!”

I threw the phone with all of my strength on the tile bathroom floor and heard a painful sounding crack. I grabbed my bag and stormed out of there while Brady watched me, but didn’t try to stop me.

I got in my car and took a few deep breaths. It wasn’t until I started driving that I realized that yes, I was mad as fuck, but I was actually way more hurt. I like Brady. Way more than I ever planned to.

Even though my eyes felt hot with tears and I had a dry lump in my throat, I wasn’t going to let myself cry. Fuck that.

I already know what y’all are going to say. Bring it on.

typical thursday night.

No one was available for happy hour on Wednesday so I sat at home texting Brady and drinking wine. I realized that my birthday is in two weeks so everyone needs to be fucking available to party with me.

On Thursday we had a little office party to say goodbye to the summer interns. Diana ordered in cupcakes from Sprinkles and called everyone to the break room. She gave some speech about how helpful they were and blah blah blah and announced that we would be hiring one of them full time when he graduates in December.

I grabbed a cupcake and went to the privacy of my office to scarf it down. I checked my phone and saw that I had a new text message from BJ. I almost vommed.

The message said, “Hey, it’s my last weekend in Chicago before I go back to Georgia. Do you want to grab a drink or something?”

I couldn’t believe the nerve of this kid. I started drafting a scathing message back, telling him what an immature prick I think he is. But then I thought of Brady. If Brady knew the situation he would tell me to be mature and take the high road. I’m almost twenty five and I’m a director. What would bitching out BJ help? He was leaving anyway. I decided not to respond at all.

After work, I went to Nordstrom to settle the dress situation and ended up getting a dress, earrings, and two pairs of boots for fall/winter. I texted Brady saying that if he got off at a decent time, did he want to come over? I started watching tv and had almost fallen asleep when he responded, “I can be there in 45 mins.”

I jumped up happily, showered and put on something comfortable. I get way more excited to hang out with Brady than I have with any other guy in a long time. I think it’s because he makes me actually use my brain and doesn’t try to immediately get in my pants (although I kind of wish he would).

Brady and I had wine and talked about our days. He mentioned the charity event on Saturday just briefly which I think is weird because we haven’t talked about it since he asked me. Are we even still going together?

We decided to go out to grab a few drinks at a place not too far from my apartment. Well, a few drinks turned into a few more and some shots. Typical Thursday night. I knew that Brady was getting drunk when he started kissing my neck right in the middle of the bar. It was funny, but it only made me want to screw him that much more. We decided to get out of there and Brady left a really generous $80 tip for the bartender.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” I asked on our way to the parking lot.

Brady shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you want to drive?”

I didn’t say anything and he tossed me the keys. He obviously doesn’t know my driving history, but he was way drunker than I was. I found his car in the parking garage and said a silent prayer before pulling off. The last thing I need is to wreck Brady’s beautiful car. He would never want me if I did that and couldn’t afford to buy him a new one.

We made it back to my apartment in one piece and after driving Brady’s Audi I decided that I’m ready for a new car. I will start looking for something modest soon.

We got inside and ended up making out on my bed in the complete darkness. All of our clothes were still on and I started to think maybe Brady wasn’t going to try anything with me since I had turned him down twice. He moved down to my neck and said, “I want you,” flat out.

But he made no moves to show it. I was completely open to having sex and let Brady know it. I ran my hands under his shirt and tugged at his belt. There were only so many clues I could give him without physically ripping his clothes off and doing him.

Eventually, we grew tired and fell asleep. We were woken up by Brady’s alarm at some insane hour and it was still dark outside. Surprisingly Brady was able to get out of bed and become alert immediately and get ready to leave.

“I would like you to come over later. You can stay the night and we can run tomorrow morning,” he said, leaning down to me in bed.

I couldn’t help smiling. I don’t want to run, but it’s cute that Brady is trying to plan things.

date me then.

On Friday night, I texted all my friends letting them know that I’d had a long week and needed to drink. Kendra, John, Carly and I were going to a club that none of us had been to so I wanted to look hot/sexy/dtf/etc. I decided on a white bodycon dress with my hair down and wavy. Carly came over to pregame and by the time Kendra and John came to pick us up, Drunk Reese was ready to party.

When we got to the club, I immediately went to the bar and found a guy to take a tequila shot with me. Turns out he is a cop, a really effing hot one too. I hung out with him while Carly, Kendra and John danced. I can’t remember what we talked about, but somehow we are now friends on Facebook.

Carly came skipping over after a while.

“Reesie Cup!” she squealed, hugging me. “Chris and Brady are coming!”

“What? They’re coming here?”

“Yes, they’re on their way. They were at a bar nearby so I told them to come see us,” she explained.

“Carly, I’m drunk as fuck. Brady can’t see me like this!” I exclaimed.

“You’re fine, babe. He won’t even notice.”

I turned to the bartender and ordered a water in the largest cup they had. I needed to sober up fast – I couldn’t let Brady see me in this state. The bartender slid me a glass of water and I downed it. I demanded another and downed it too. Then I ran to the bathroom and peed it all out. While I was in the bathroom I checked to make sure that I still looked like a bombshell and the bathroom attendant girl assured me that I did.

When I got back out there, Carly was screaming on the phone trying to explain to Chris where we were. She hung up and said, “They’re here.”

For the next thirty seconds I stood there trying to give myself a pep talk. I hadn’t seen Brady in almost two weeks and he ignored my text when I did try to reach out. So I wasn’t sure what to say.

Carly squealed loudly which alerted me that they had shown up. Brady walked in behind Chris looking sexy in a white short sleeved button down and nice jeans.

They both hugged Carly then Chris gave me a drunk hug and Brady followed suit.

“Hey, how are you?” Brady said then he lightly grabbed my waist and pulled me into a hug.

“Hi,” was all I could think to say. I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him back.

We pulled apart and he kept a hand on the small of my back. “How is your night going?”

“It is going extremely well,” I said slowly, so I didn’t fumble over my words. “How’s yours?”

“Same here. We just witnessed a bar fight. Crazy stuff.”

“Mmm,” was all I said.

“What are you drinking?”

We made our way to the bar and ordered Bud Lights and stood there drinking. He asked about my week and I vaguely told him about my trip to New York. I couldn’t let him know the details of my hot mess life yet.

Suddenly, Brady said, “You are really pretty.”

I was caught off guard, but said “Thank you” automatically.

“No really,” he went on. “You are beautiful. And you look especially beautiful tonight.”

I studied his face to see if I could read him since all of this was coming out of nowhere. I noticed that his eyelids were low and his eyes were bloodshot. Brady was hammered.

“Thank you,” I said again.

“You know, it is kind of intimidating,” he said, leaning on the bar.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re pretty, you’re confident, you’re smart, you have a great career… Usually pretty girls are just pretty, but you have it all together.”

I have it all together? That was so far from the truth that it was hilarious. I was going to let him believe that though.

“Like, you’re the full package. I would love to date you, you know?”

“Date me then,” I said boldly.

“You’re only saying that because you’re drunk.”

Normally I get annoyed with insecure guys, but Brady made insecure look totally adorable. I wanted to hug him and rest his head on my boobs.

“No I’m not. Ask me on a date,” I said.

He smiled. “Reese, will you go on a date with me?”

I couldn’t help smiling back. “Of course.”

He suggested dinner on Wednesday night and said he could pick me up after he got off work. I really hoped that he wasn’t just saying all this because he was drunk.

Brady and I spent the rest of the night hanging out. We talked, drank, held hands, and danced. He even waited outside the bathroom while I talked to the attendant girl for fifteen minutes about how I was in love. I wondered if this was what having a real boyfriend was like.

After a while, we were all hungry and decided to get food. There was a food truck down the block so naturally that’s where we ended up. The guys stood in line to get the food while Kendra, Carly and I stood close by.

“You guys,” I whispered loudly. “Brady and I are going on our first date on Wednesday. I think we’re actually a couple!”

“You’re a couple and you haven’t even been on a date yet?” Kendra smirked.

“I know!” I whisper-yelled back. “Things are moving really quickly!”

I turned and looked longingly at Brady. He and John were having a conversation and laughing. My heart just swells for him in a way that I can’t explain.

They brought back tacos or something I wanted nothing to do with, and we all sat at the curb eating. Afterward, Kendra and John were ready to leave and offered to take me home. Carly was going home with Chris so the six of us split in half. Before we parted ways, Brady said, “I will see you on Wednesday.”

He kissed me on the cheek and we hugged before the three of them walked to the el stop.

So now I think I have a dinner date on Wednesday. I’m actually kind of nervous. What should I do/not do/wear?

three minutes in purgatory.

On Saturday night I was so bored I literally thought I would die. Kendra and John were at a play, Preston and his boyfriend were in Puerto Rico for the weekend and Carly was at Chris’s place and not responding. I’ve never felt so single in my life.

Finally, in one last ditch effort before I croaked, I texted BJ to see what he was doing.

He responded, “At this bar with some of the guys. Come out.”

Within thirty minutes, I was in a Finders Keepers dress, Guisseppe Zanottis and a pair of Target earrings because these were college boys I would be hanging out with so I wanted to be modest.

I finished a glass of wine and then taxied to the bar. BJ and about ten of his frat brothers had taken over a corner of the bar and had several pitchers of beer already.

“Well, look who it is. I thought you only existed in the office,” BJ said, greeting me with a hug and a kiss on my temple. Even though he’s almost four years younger than me, I still felt teeny tiny in his arms. He was wearing khaki shorts, a trendy denim button down, and Sperrys with a backward Polo hat on his head.

“Guys, this is who I was telling you about, Reese.”

The guys said hi and gave me appreciative nods. We got to talking and I learned that one of them is from a town thirty minutes away from the town I’m from so he bought me my first drink. The guys were all over me and asking tons of questions. I was obviously loving it and eating all this attention up.

Three hours and several Patron shots (they insisted) later, the frat was gone and only BJ and I remained at the bar. We were completely drunk and had spent most of night dancing, arguing about everything and laughing about nothing.

Once the bar started clearing out, we made our way outside to the muggy night.

“I’m glad you came out tonight. It took you long enough,” BJ said.

“You lucked out because all my friends were busy tonight. I was just bored enough to hang out with you,” I said.

“Oh yeah? You had fun though, didn’t you?”

I smiled. “A little bit.”

“I knew you would be a good dancer,” BJ said.

I started dancing in the middle of the sidewalk and BJ grabbed my waist and pulled me close so that my back was to his chest. I quickly pulled away and pretended I didn’t like it.

I turned back toward him and he was staring down at me with a fiery look in his eyes – not smiling or looking goofy like he normally does. The truth was I wanted BJ. I wanted him badly. And it wasn’t just because I was plastered. He looked so hot in his southern preppy attire that I wanted to lick him head to toe.

There were so many reasons I shouldn’t though – he’s four years younger than me, he’s an intern and if anyone found out I would be fired, he had that “thing” with Amanda, etc. But none of that seemed to matter. No one would find out. How would they? And who cares if he’s younger? People say I have a youthful spirit anyway.

“Do you want to come over?” I asked.

“Yeah,” BJ answered.

We cabbed to my apartment and sat so close to each other I was practically on his lap. We talked about college or something and every time the driver would go over a bump or take a turn too fast, we would almost kiss.

I let us into my apartment, immediately kicked off my shoes and padded to my room to change into something more comfortable (cropped tank, lace shorts). BJ was sitting on my couch waiting.

“Damn, you look hot,” he said in a low voice.

I spun and he caught my wrist. He pulled me on his lap and I let him, no longer playing hard to get. We instantly started making out. It was urgent and a little bit sloppy, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to have sex with him. I pulled his head back by his hair and kissed his throat. BJ let out a moan and I continued licking and sucking his neck.

We started kind of dry humping and I couldn’t even pretend not to want it anymore.

“Take me to my room,” I said.

He picked me up with my legs still wrapped around his waist and carried me to my room. He dropped me on the bed and pulled off his shirt, seemingly simultaneously. I never knew it, but BJ has a huge tattoo of his last name going down the side of his torso which looked cool but was super pointless. Such a bro.

We ripped each other’s clothes off – my top then his shorts then my shorts. BJ was standing over my naked body in just boxer briefs. Even though he’s on the skinnier side, his body is really lean and ripped and he had a nice sized bulge in the front of his boxer briefs.

BJ leaned down and frenchkissed my hipbone then got back up and rolled on a condom. That’s when I realized that this was actually happening. It was too late to go back now (and I didn’t want to) so this had to be worthwhile.

He climbed on top of me and kind of fumbled around for a moment trying to put his penis in. Wtf. Just when I was about to blame #whiskeydick and call the whole thing off, he got it in. He started going in and out really fast like a jackhammer and it was unpleasant. I was actually bored. I knew that when I noticed that my ceiling fan needed to be dusted, something had to change.

I made BJ flip over so I was on top. He gave me a lazy version of his normal smirk and said, “You’re so sexy, Reese.”

I started riding him like California Chrome and all he could do was grab my hips and hang on. All of that sexual tension we built up came down to this so I was going to make the most of it.

“Oh my God,” BJ moaned.

I looked down and his brow was furrowed, his eyes were shut and he was biting his lip so hard that it was turning white. Somehow he still looked hot and I kept going, harder.

Before I could pull out any of my signature moves (the spin), BJ let out a low groan that sounded almost like a whimper.

Um, okay.

He sighed and I felt his whole body relax. So he was finished. I climbed off him and sat there, baffled and mortified. I couldn’t believe that was it. I’d risked my job for three minutes in purgatory.

BJ wasn’t saying anything and it was pissing me off so I called his name. When he didn’t answer, I said it again and elbowed his ribs.

He let out a deep breath and rolled away from me. He was sleeping.

in your dreams, blow job.

I probably checked Brady’s Facebook sixty times between Monday and Wednesday to see if there were any changes, but either he didn’t log on or his privacy settings prevented me from seeing them. Stupid Facebook.

On Wednesday, Dave decided to let the entire office out at 3:00 PM so we could start enjoying the holiday early. It was super generous of him. As everyone started clearing out, I stayed in my office wrapping things up. The guy, Rob, from Monday sent me an email saying that he enjoyed meeting me and to contact him if I was ever in New York City so we could grab drinks. Then he left his personal cell phone number. It was kind of unprofessional, but I want this deal to work out so I replied that I would do so.

I began shutting down my computer and packing up my things when BJ walked in.

“Ready for the long weekend, boss lady?” he asked, leaning on the edge of my desk.

“Of course. I love any holiday that gives me an excuse to get shitfaced,” I replied.

BJ smirked. “Me too. What are you doing? Come out to the bars with me and my friends.”

This was the third time in the past two weeks he had asked me to hang out with him outside of work and each time I told him absolutely not. The kid is persistent.

“In your dreams, Blow Job,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“No, really. That’s my dream,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow. “What is?”

“You. Blow job,” he said in a low voice.

Suddenly it felt like the room got 100 degrees hotter.

“And that’s exactly where that will stay – in your dreams,” I said.

“I know, but that is within my rights as an American.”

I rolled my eyes and began toward the door.

“What?” BJ called after me. “I can’t help that you’re hot.”

I was almost out of the office when I turned and ran right into him. He was following me out too closely. We were chest to chest (or face to chest rather) and I had accidentally touched him in places I shouldn’t have in the scuffle. I quickly jumped away.

“What the fuck? Can I have some space?” I snapped.

BJ stared down at me – eyes blazing. “You can have whatever you want.”

I felt like I could hear my heart beating loudly in my ears. I hated that this little twenty one year old brat could have an affect on me.

“Bye, Brandon,” I said, gesturing toward the open door.

He didn’t take his eyes off me as he sidled out, way closer to me than necessary.

I wasn’t even to the L stop when I got a text from him: “Have an awesome weekend, Reese.” Just seeing his name on my screen did something to my body. Ugh.

I met Kendra and John for martinis and couldn’t wait to tell them about my fiancé.

“He sounds legit,” John said after I recapped Friday night. “That pharmacy school is very competitive. Awesome that he got in.”

“Isn’t it? He’s really smart,” I said.

“When are you guys hanging out again?” Kendra asked.

I failed to mention that Brady and I hadn’t exchanged numbers or made any plans of seeing each other again. I shrugged and took a sip of my martini. “Soon.”

“I’m really happy for Carly though. She deserves a good guy like Chris,” Kendra said.

I was a little annoyed that she changed the subject from me so abruptly, but I took that moment to check and make sure Brady hadn’t updated his Facebook. He hadn’t. But Carly sent me a text message that said, “Fourth of July BBQ at Chris and Brady’s. :-)”

I was already mentally picking out my outfit.

we’re getting married.

On Friday afternoon, Carly texted me asking me what I was doing that evening. When I told her I had no plans she said, “Good because you’re hanging out with me and Chris.”

“No I’m not,” I responded. I didn’t have any plans but I wasn’t going to be bored enough to be someone’s third wheel.

“Yes you are. You’re the one who even got me in this situation. It’s going to be awkward so you have to tag along.”

Ugh. I totally planned going home, taking a four hour bubble bath and watching reruns of Keeping Up With The Kardashians. I agreed, but told her that if I started to feel like the third wheel I was bailing. We were supposed to meet Chris at his Lincoln Park duplex at 8:30ish so Carly came over after work so we could get ready/drink wine.

“We’ve been texting a lot, but this will be our first time hanging out,” Carly explained. “And not only that, but he’s expressed no romantic interest in me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“All we ever talk about is drinking and work. He’s never called me pretty or asked me out on a date. Even tonight he just said, ‘do you want to come over and drink?’ His roommate might even be there.”

“Carly, you know you’re gorgeous. You don’t need Chris to tell you that. And you can’t be afraid to make the first move. If you want him, show him,” I said.

“That’s so easy for you to say. You’re so good with guys.”

This was actually laughable.

When we arrived at Chris’ I was already buzzed from the wine. Chris let us in to his place and I was really quite impressed with how clean and fresh it was for two straight guys. My first thought was that Chris was actually gay and that explained the chic apartment and lack of romantic interest. And then I thought maybe he was married and he actually shared the duplex with his wife. I couldn’t wait to get Carly alone and discuss my theories.

“I didn’t know you were coming, Reese, but I’m glad to have you,” Chris said as he led us through the living room to the open concept kitchen and dining room.

“Thanks for allowing me to crash your date!” I said, glancing at Carly.

We walked through the kitchen and into the dining area. The most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on was sitting at the large oak table.

“This is my roommate, Brady,” Chris said as we entered the carpeted dining area.

Brady looked up from his laptop at us. He had close cropped hair, blue eyes and the most perfect nose I’ve ever seen on a human. He was a little more clean cut than I usually go for, but he was so incredibly hot. He stood up and Carly stuck her hand in his face – a little too eagerly.

“I’m Carly!”

They shook hands and he turned to me expectantly.

“Reese,” I said, shaking his hand. I suddenly hated myself for only wearing mascara, jeans and an Elsa braid.

“Nice to meet you,” Brady said just to me and not Carly. “What are you guys getting into tonight?”

“I was thinking we would just go downstairs and drink and maybe watch some baseball. Wanna join?” Chris said.

Brady glanced down at his laptop. “I have some work to complete, but maybe later.”

I wondered what his work consisted of. He had on a pastel colored oxford, slacks and argyle socks. He looked deliciously business casual. Maybe he worked in finance or law.

Chris led us down a flight of stairs to the basement and on our way down I texted Carly, “I love him.”

She replied, “Reallyyyyy??? He is really cute!!!”

“We’re getting married,” I said back.

The basement had a full kitchen in the corner – with an impressive fully stocked bar. Chris told us to help ourselves and we each grabbed a bottle of Bud Light out of the refrigerator and then sat on the leather sectional watching the Sox game.

We spent the next hour talking. Chris happens to be a Chicago native so we talked about how our childhoods differed and college. Luckily Chris is just waiting tables on the side and is finishing up his masters. He’s such a good catch for Carly and I’m proud that this was my idea.

Just when I was wondering when my new boyfriend was going to join us, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Brady appeared behind the sofa with a beer in his hand. He had changed into a fitted white t-shirt and what looked like an elaborate bicep tattoo was peeking out of his sleeve. So maybe he wasn’t as clean cut as I thought. “Sox winning?”

“Yeah, I think we’ve got this one,” Chris answered.

Brady took a swig of his beer and glanced down at me. It was then that I realized I was grinning and battling my eyelashes at him. He smiled back.

“Let’s play beer pong!” Carly suddenly exclaimed.

We all looked at her. Really, Carly? Are we back in college?

“Okay. I’m down,” Chris said.

Apparently beer pong was frequently played in this household because Chris immediately pulled a long rectangle table out of a closet and Brady started filling red cups up.

“Should we play guys against girls?” Brady asked after the table was all set up.

“Nooo, that wouldn’t be fair. Me and Chris against you two,” Carly said wagging her fingers at us.

“Fine with me,” Chris said pulling Carly close by her waist.

Brady joined me on the other side of the table and gave my body the once over. “Are you any good?”

I don’t know about you, but I’m really good at beer pong. I think it’s because I lived next to a frat house in college, but people are always surprised at how good I am.

“Of course,” I purred.

Brady and I won the first two games then apparently all the beer gave Carly and Chris a boost because they won the third. Brady and I high-fived and talked about the strategy of the game a lot. I could tell he is really smart because he used words like “saturated” and “inertia.” It was super cute. If he wasn’t sexy, confident and completely perfect, he would be a nerd.

After the third game, we decided that we were going to walk down to the bars. While Brady and Chris cleaned up the table and cups, Carly and I went back to their bar for more drinks. Carly grabbed another beer, but I found a bottle of tequila with my name on it. I began filling a cup up, but Carly grabbed my arm.

“Reese!” she exclaimed, giving me a wide eyed look.

“What?!”

“If you’re actually interested in Brady then you better slow down. Don’t let Drunk Reese out yet.”

She was absolutely right so I only filled the cup a quarter way up and filled the rest with orange juice.

When we got down to the bar, Carly and Chris immediately started dancing leaving Brady and me at the bar. Which was fine with me because I wasn’t drunk enough to start dancing yet.

Brady and I had no choice, but sit at the bar and talk. I learned that he’s a clinical pharmacist at a hospital here and I was instantly impressed. He’s originally from Massachusetts and went to private school K-12 and Yale for undergrad. Apparently his father is a huge and important politician in Massachusetts and his mother is the CEO of a hospital, a job I didn’t even know existed (how does one even qualify for that?). I can’t lie, I was kind of intimidated. His life is so in control. ASU and my measly 3.7 cumulative GPA were dull in comparison.

My dad at least has a cool enough job to talk about. He’s not the next Mitt Romney or anything, but he gets by. I wasn’t about to tell Brady that my mom runs a cupcake shop part time but mostly spends her days shopping, laying out by the pool and rearranging our house despite being a licensed therapist though. He did say that my job sounded “stimulating” and that it must be nice to have a “creative outlet” that was “financially rewarding.”

Before we knew it, we had finished an entire pitcher of beer.

“Shall we order shots?” Almost-Drunk Reese asked.

Brady raised an eyebrow. “Shall we?”

I nodded and flagged down the bartender. I ordered two modest lemon drop shots for us and instantly began bouncing in my barstool after finishing mine. I was totally drunk enough to dance.

I stood up and grabbed Brady’s hand and tried to drag him onto the dance floor, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I don’t dance,” he smiled and pulled me closer to him – so that I was directly in front of him and our legs were touching.

“Not even with me?”

He looked as if he was considering this when that “Fancy” song by Iggy Whoever came on. Sober Reese finds this song obnoxious, but Drunk Reese immediately started dancing – giving Brady some sort of pseudo lapdance/personal rap concert. So fucking embarrassing.

But while I danced in front of him, he kept a super light hold of my hand and watched me closely. For some reason it was really intimate and sexy. When the song was over, I put my hands on his thighs and leaned down close to his face.

“Sure you don’t want to dance with me?”

Brady opened his mouth like he was either going to say something or kiss me and I was desperately hoping for the latter. We stayed like this – breathing into each other’s mouths – for a full minute. I felt his thighs tense up under my hands and without even having to look down, I knew he had a boner. My heart rate quickened as I leaned down even closer so our lips just barely brushed each other. Brady lightly bit my lower lip and my entire body ached because I wanted him so bad.

But suddenly Chris and Carly came bounding back to the bar hand in hand, interrupting our moment. I quickly sat back down in my own barstool.

“Are you guys ready? I have to work early,” Carly yawned.

“Yes, I’m becoming tired as well,” Brady said.

We tabbed out and made the short walk back to their place. Carly had driven us so she and Chris stood in front of her car saying goodbye/making out.

“I’m going to head inside and get some sleep. It was a pleasure talking to you, Reese,” Brady said.

I stood there smiling stupidly. A pleasure talking to me? Wasn’t he going to ask for my number or invite me in so we could have sex? I wasn’t going to, but the invitation would’ve been nice.

“See you later,” I said.

On the ride back to my apartment, I told Carly what happened.

“I’m sure he was just too shy to ask for your number. Chris said he’s not aggressive enough with girls,” Carly said.

I considered this. Brady didn’t seem shy at all, but maybe Chris was right about him not being aggressive. He had plenty of opportunity to kiss me. We got to my apartment and Carly decided to stay the night because it was so late.

God. Now I’m thinking maybe I’m not agressive enough either. I should’ve given him my number, right?

hot mess in high heels.

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