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‘Damn,’ I say as I lean away from him, sipping my drink, hoping he gets the hint that I translated his brand of asshole. Truthfully, I’m a little shocked he’d say that out loud. Thus far, besides the fact that I just truly think Jade could do better, there’s been absolutely no reason for me to dislike Conner but the way he just said that is a red flag even for me.
Then there’s the fact that he seems so uninterested in her romantically, like she’s a trophy or a business deal. He’s got the vibe of being an obnoxious pre-nup, twice a week blowjobs, home-cooked dinners will be on the table at seven on the dot and you must weigh in every morning kind of guy and nothing more. I’ve never even seen them kiss besides a peck like they’re family. There’s a kiss that says I love you and there’s a kiss that says I tolerate you, and theirs leans to the latter. If I’m kissing a woman I love, she won’t wonder if I’ve had garlic for lunch, she’ll know. I chuckle at my own thoughts.
‘No,’ Jade says with a playful roll of her eyes as if she understands whatever I’m laughing at. She might, I make this girl laugh many times a week. I’d bet she could guess my reaction to most things at this point. ‘We’re engaged!’
My phone, that was once in my hand, falls to the bar and slides over to her side. She grabs it, handing it back to me, a single eyebrow lifted in confusion as she does so. She said she’d marry that guy?! Why?
‘What?’ Mercy half squeals, grabbing her left hand. We both inspect the pretty hand now in front of us, bright blue fingernails recently done and no ring. Usually, Jade’s a multiple-ring kind of girl. Now she’s cleared the field, and he hasn’t provided.
‘Where’s the ring?’ I ask, downing my shot of tequila.
Before Jade answers, she takes the third shot, swallows it like she needs it to say the words about to leave her lips. Something’s wrong.
‘We haven’t bought one yet, but soon.’
I look at Conner, not even needing to tell him what I’m thinking because he immediately speaks.
‘The proposal was kind of a last-minute decision,’ Conner says. ‘You know how it is; when you feel it, you feel it.’
Shockingly, I do know how it is. But I find it hard to believe that these two felt that. They don’t seem very ‘in love’.
‘You two felt it, huh?’
Conner nods proudly as though he doesn’t just mean feelings – more than I needed to know.
‘Like in your bones?’ Mercy asks, her face scrunched as we exchange glances.
‘I’m sure one bone felt it,’ I say to her under my breath, making her snicker.
When Adam, one of Jade’s co-workers, introduces tonight’s musician, Mercy backs away from us, heading for the small performance area.
‘Congratulations,’ I say, my eyes on Jade, who smiles shyly. ‘When’s the big day?’
‘Oh, a long ways away.’ Conner answers the question I was asking her. ‘We’re waiting until I’m done with my residency.’
Her face falls when he waves the wedding off with ‘long ways away’. Not sure she was on board with that part.
‘Conner leaves for Boston tomorrow, so we still have some things to discuss. Nothing’s been set in stone just yet,’ Jade says, refilling the two shot glasses before me. I may not know this woman as well as Conner thinks he does, but I know his words just stung, hence her second shot of the night with me.
‘Besides the fact that she said yes,’ Conner throws in, winking.
‘Jade’s an awesome girl, so congrats on that win, I guess.’
‘What’s with you, sport? Are you ever going to settle down, or is the bar scene your future?’
‘Well, tiger, not that you need to know, but I’ve got some lady fish on some hooks.’
I don’t. What I do have is the offer of my mother managing my dating profile and picking women I usually wouldn’t. She can’t possibly do any worse than I have. And with her busy attempting to find me a wife, I can focus on editing the documentary about her life as a teen/pop star without her needing to approve of every decision I make. It’s a win-win.
‘Awesome,’ Conner says, lifting the beer he’s peeling the label off of unsuccessfully. ‘I hope these dates feel the same way Jade does about your hair.’
I glance at Jade, who grimaces, lifting her shoulders as she overhears his words while pouring someone else’s drink.
‘And I hope you don’t fail out of medical school,’ I say, with an equally douchey tone.
As guys, we know this is where the conversation ends. We are not friends. I’m friends with Jade. Usually, he doesn’t come in, and she goes on and on about him with her words.
I shouldn’t even be involved in this relationship. What I know about the situation is that he swept her off her feet with romantic talking sessions and deep-feeling dives. He’s one of those smooth talkers who somehow makes women feel comfortable enough to open up to them, but in their head they’re replaying the last X-rated movie they watched. Not my style, and I don’t understand how in the hell he sold it to her.
