“I bet on Irene,” she says, “and I know you got a little shortchanged because you lost your first bet with Eric. What do you think of him by the way?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, taking a drink of my beer.

“Well, he’s pretty sexy,” she says. “Tall, ruggedly handsome—”

God was he ever.

“Why do people always say that: rugged?” I ask. “It always makes me think of a lumberjack or a mountain man, neither of which I would equate with someone like Eric.”

“Well, he’s pretty well-built, sis,” Kristin says.

I would chastise her for calling me sis, but if I did that, she’d start calling me Jay-Jay again and I hate that one even more.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “I guess.”

“And those eyes?” Kristin says. “You know, if I wasn’t having Jed’s baby, I’d make a move on Eric myself.”

There’s the quick flash of something in me, but I push it down just as quickly.

“Whoa,” Kristin says. “I was just talking hypothetically. I’m not actually going to make a move on your man.”

“What do you mean ‘my man?’ We’re just friends,” I explain.

“Well, after your ninja kung-fu death glare, I’d say you’d like to be something more than friends with him,” she says.

“I’m just frustrated that I haven’t heard anything from that guy you set me up with,” I tell her.

“Why don’t you just ask Irene or Alec?” she asks. “They know exactly who it is.”

“I’m just surprised that you don’t,” I start. “You actually gave my phone number to someone you’ve never met?”

“I didn’t give the phone number to him,” Kristin says. “I gave it to Irene, Irene gave it to Alec and Alec gave it to his friend. Just ask one of them. It’s not like you’re in a Sherlock Holmes book. You know exactly how to find out whatever you want to know about the guy.”

“It’s just,” I start. “I don’t know, I guess I’d just rather find out from him. People’s friends always tell the most flattering version of the truth, and I’d rather get to know him better on my own.”

“You could at least ask for his name,” Kristin says.

“I haven’t even asked him for his name,” I tell her.

“Why not?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” I answer.

“I think I know why,” she says.

“Yeah?” I ask. “Why’s that?”

“I think you’ve got it bad for Eric,” she teases.

“Speaking of Eric,” Irene says, coming back to sit down with Kristin and me, “what he didn’t want me to tell you a minute ago is that he’s got a huge—”

“Irene, for the love of god!” Eric interrupts.

He may as well have let her finish, because I think the secret’s out, though I kind of wish she hadn’t said anything myself.

“Dick!” she says, trying to pass it off as a jab at him for interrupting her, but she’s still a bit too drunk to come off as clever about it.

“So you two…” Kristin says.

“No, no, no,” Eric says. “No, we’ve never—no.”

“You know,” Irene says, looking over at Eric, “I don’t know that I like your tone there. That wasn’t very polite.”

“You’re my friend’s wife,” he says.

“Yeah, it’d be weird and everything, but you don’t have to be so unequivocal about it,” she rejoins. With that, she walks off, I’m assuming to go find her husband, leaving me with Kristin and Eric.

“So,” Kristin says, “what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know,” I tell her. “I think pretty much everyone here is too drunk to drive and I really don’t feel like asking anyone for cab fare to cover both of us.”

“You’re leaving?” Eric asks.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Kristin answers. “I think that we should just stay here tonight. That way we don’t have to drive back here to pick up your car.”

“How’d you two get here?” Eric asks.

“She drove,” Kristin says, pointing to me, “but she’s too drunk to drive and I don’t know how to drive a stick.”

“I’ve got a proposition for you,” Eric says. “I haven’t had a drink in a while, and even before I stopped drinking, I was just barely catching a buzz. If you want, I can drive you two wherever you need to go and just catch a cab home for myself.”

“There you go,” Kristin says, winking at me.

“I don’t know,” I respond.

“I’d be happy to do it,” Eric smiles. “Besides, I was thinking of heading home pretty soon anyway.”

“That sounds great,” Kristin says.

“Why don’t we just have Jed come pick us up?” I ask.

“Because you think he’s an idiot,” Kristin says, “and I’m really not in the mood for bad vibes right now. I’m in a happy place.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” I ask. “I feel like we’d be taking advantage of you.”

“Not at all,” Eric says. “Like I said, I was planning on heading home soon anyway.”

“Hey, shitface,” Alec says, walking up to our group.

“Hey, you finally deigned to show your face,” Eric says. “You know, you cost me a twenty-dollar payoff.”

The truth is that I do have enough money for cab fare to get both Kristin and me back home: otherwise, I wouldn’t have brought that up as a possibility in the first place. Still, I’m finding myself wanting to spend a little bit more time with Eric if I can.

Despite my earlier mockery of the term, he does have a rather rugged quality about him like one of those guys in GQ in the plain white t-shirts, muscles providing contours and holy shit, I need to get laid.

“Are you ready?” Kristin asks.

Apparently, I’ve been zoning out.

“Are you sure you’re all right to drive?” I ask Eric.

“Absolutely,” he says. “I ate before I came and I only ended up drinking one of those beers, so I’m good to go.”

“All right,” I tell him. “I’m just going to go say goodbye to Irene and I’m ready.”

I get up and meander through the apartment. As much sense as it would have made to simply ask Alec where his wife is, I’m still a bit nervous about having any real contact with him after what happened at the store.

If I knew he was Irene’s husband…actually, come to think of it, assuming I’d still be under the impression that he was the one that broke into my store, I probably would have still been just as happy to see him walk.

“Irene?” I call down the hallway toward the closed door that had been the focus of so much interest so recently.

“Just a minute!” she calls from inside the bedroom.

It’s none of my business if she’s in there with someone while Alec’s out talking to Eric and Kristin. Even though swinging isn’t something I could see myself doing, that’s the way their relationship works for them.

Still, I’m not so comfortable with it that I’m willing to go and open that door without some sort of assurance there’s nothing worth betting on inside the room.

The door opens and Irene comes out, saying, “What’s up? Are you guys leaving already?”

“Yeah,” I tell her. “Eric’s driving us home.”

“All right,” she says. “Hey, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“The guy you’ve been texting,” she says. “There’s a reason why he told you he couldn’t show up tonight and it’s not what you think.”

“What is it that I think?” I ask, but revise the statement into, “Why couldn’t he show up?”

“That’s the thing,” she says. “He did.”

“He was here?” I ask.

“Still is,” she says. “I wanted to tell you, but I kind of got the vibe that he wanted to tell you himself or that maybe he wasn’t ready to let you know who he was for fear of something or other—I wasn’t really paying that much attention.”

“Who is it?” I ask.

“Do you really want to know?” she asks.

“Of course,” I tell her. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s Eric,” she says.

I scoff as a reflex.

“No seriously,” I say. “Who is it?”

“Seriously,” she answers. “It’s Eric. I don’t know why he didn’t want to tell you before now, maybe it has something to do with the fact that you got Alec to quit from the last job—I don’t know. What I do know,” she says, “is that he likes you, so don’t be too mad at him for not coming clean. I think he’s just nervous about what you’ll think about him.”