When We First Met Page 3

  Again, Quentin was struck dumb. This really wasn’t his night for elocution.

  “Ooh!” Cat said, tugging at his elbow. “I think the show is starting. We can come back afterward so you can get lover girl’s digits.”

  There was too much there to respond to, so Quentin just let himself get tugged along into the back room of the bar.

  Two hours later he and Cat were walking home side by side. They’d stopped by the bar to say goodbye on their way out and now Sylvie’s phone number tingled Quentin’s fingertips where he touched the napkin in his pocket. But it wasn’t Sylvie he was thinking about as they crossed a bridge over the Gowanus Canal, the water an inky, noxious stripe below them. It was the woman walking beside him that drew his thoughts.

  Cat reminded him of clementines in the height of their season. The brightest, zingiest fruit he could think of. He didn’t want to simplify her down into just her positive attributes. Of course she was—like all people—a complicated amalgamation of hidden puzzle pieces and gardens of melancholia, he was sure of it. But her general vibe was phosphorescent, tart, addictive, a little overwhelming.

  He wanted more.

  His stomach sank as he realized how much more he wanted. Exactly what he’d been worried about happening had. His crush was more than just a lit match. It had matured into glowing coals simmering in the pit of his gut, sucking the oxygen out of the air, waiting for him to fan it into flame. It wouldn’t take much more for him to be a certified goner.

  “So, you gonna ask her out?” Cat asked.

  Quentin’s heart skipped because he’d been thinking of just that: how to ask Cat out. But Cat wasn’t talking about herself; she was talking about Sylvie.

  “I’m...not sure.”

  “Why not? She was gorge. And obviously into you.”

  He laughed. “You really think she was into me? She talked about her crush in the past tense.”

  Cat pursed her lips and ducked her chin, her eyes telling him he was a naive fool. “Are you kidding me? That woman practically suffocated you with her cleavage and then told you she’d always had a crush on you in front of me. That’s girl-speak for ‘come and get it, daddy-o.’” Cat mimed twirling a long cat tail behind her back, tipping an imaginary top hat.

  Once again, he was laughing. “I’m not sure what that’s supposed to be, but I think you’re confusing my life with, like, an old-timey cartoon or something.”

  She laughed too. “I’m just sayin’, I think you’re missing an opportunity there.”

  “Actually...” Quentin said as he slowed his pace so that he could steal a few extra moments with her. His heart beat hollowly in his chest, like a stone clanging in an old tin pail. “It’s not her that I’m thinking about asking—”

  “Ohmygawd,” Cat squeaked, grabbing Quentin’s arm and jumping halfway behind him. “It’s him!”

  They’d just rounded the corner toward their building and standing on the sidewalk in front of the entrance was Jared, talking to someone through the open window of a cab. A moment later, beautiful blonde Lara unfolded herself from the cab, an overnight bag over one shoulder.

  Quentin groaned. Jared had sworn on his—still-living—mother’s grave that the thing with Lara last weekend had been a one-off. That they weren’t getting back together. Yet, here she was, obviously about to spend the night again.

  “I can’t believe this,” Quentin muttered, grunting when Cat bodily hustled him back behind the side of their building so that they could peek around and spy on Jared.

  “Who is that chick?” Cat said, peering around the corner at the couple.

  “Jared’s ex. Or maybe Jared’s current. It’s hard to keep track with Jared and Lara. They’re pretty messy.”

  “Dang!” Cat stood up straight and snapped her fingers. “I’m always behind the eight ball with this guy.”

  His heart somewhere in the general vicinity of his socks, Quentin stepped back and surveyed her. “You’re really into him, huh?”

  Cat shrugged. “He’s stupid hot. And kind of funny. We run into one another around the building every once in a while.”

  “So.” Quentin cleared his throat. “Why not ask him out?”

  “I’m too chicken,” Cat answered in a tone that indicated the answer should have been obvious. She turned to Quentin and his stomach dropped further at the bummed expression on her face. “And now he apparently has a girlfriend again.”

  “Or not.” Looking up, Quentin watched in amazement as Jared leaned down and reopened the cab door, one hand on Lara’s lower back.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Cat squeaked. “He’s sending her home!”

  Never in his life did Quentin think that he’d actually be conflicted about the banishment of Lara.

  They both watched in silence as Lara whirled on Jared, fire in her eyes. She said something that neither of them could quite make out, but the venom in her tone was unmistakable. As cold as ice, she reached forward and plucked Jared’s phone from his hand. Quentin’s jaw dropped as he watched Lara pitch the phone to the pavement and then bring the heel of her Louboutin down on the screen. A smirk on her face, she whipped back around and slid into the cab.

  Quentin and Cat shrank into the shadows as her cab drove off down the street.

  “Holy smokes,” Cat muttered. “That was crazy.”

  They both peeked back around the corner, but Jared had disappeared into the building.

  “That’s nothing when it comes to Lara. A few years ago, she slashed all the tires of his car only to find out that it wasn’t his car.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. And the kicker was that she couldn’t afford to buy the owner new tires so Jared paid.”

  “Wow. Either he’s a total pushover or he’s really sweet.”

  Quentin kept his mouth shut.

  “How long have they been together?” Cat asked.

  “On and off since high school. We’ve all known each other since grade school.” They started a slow stroll toward the building.

  “I’m detecting in your tone that you really don’t like her.”

  Quentin sighed. “As you can see, she’s kind of a... difficult person. But I wouldn’t really have a problem with her if I didn’t have to live with Jared. It’s just too much Lara in my life.”

  “What do you mean have to live with Jared?” Cat asked as he held open the door for their building for her. She scampered forward and pressed the elevator button.

  “He’s my cousin, did you know that?”

  “Oh!” She brightened immediately, like someone had flicked on a lamp inside her. “I didn’t know! That’s cool.”

  “Yeah. We were really close growing up.” He rolled back on his heels after they stepped onto the elevator, debating how much to divulge. “It’s kind of a long story, but I lived with him and his mom, my aunt Sarah, in middle school and high school. So, when Jared and I moved to the city for school, it was kind of a given that he and I would be roommates. He’s been in and out of work for a few years so my place is a really reliable situation for him and... Yeah. I can’t exactly tell him that his girlfriend can’t come over, you know?”

  “Wow.”

  “Anyways, things are better—calmer—when he and Lara are on the outs.”

  She was quiet as they walked down the hall together, his shoulder brushing up against her hair. When they got to their opposing doors, Cat turned slowly to look up at him and he knew what she was going to ask before she even said a word.

  He could see it in her big, lovely eyes.

  “You think if they’re really broken up, there’s any way you could introduce me and him? I mean, we’ve already met, but is there a way that you could get us to hang out together or something?”

  Shit.

  This was, literally, exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. But there she was, looking up at him with t
hose maple-syrup eyes swimming with hope, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and he just couldn’t say no.

  “Ah. Sure. Maybe. Yeah. I guess I could do that. But I can’t promise to make it romantic or anything. Jared isn’t exactly a romantic guy.”

  Once again, she brightened like a lamp had flicked on. And then she was up on her toes, one hand on his arm and her lips at his cheek. “Oh, man, Quentin, you’re the absolute best. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  She dropped back down and threw her hands in the air, letting out a little squeak of delight.

  He laughed a little, even though there was a pit in his gut that seemed to be getting wider and wider with each passing second.

  “Maybe sometime this week?” she asked. “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. I could just come over and hang out when he’ll be there too?”

  “Sure.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’ll come knock on your door.”

  She unlocked her door and then backed up into her apartment, her solemn eyes on his and one finger twirling into a point. “Seriously, Quentin. The best.”

  And then her door closed and he was alone in the hallway.

  Chapter Four

  CAT PROPPED THE laundry room door open with her hip and attempted to heave her thousand-pound laundry basket onto the nearest counter. Alas, gravity won that particular battle and she found herself tipping sideways, almost ass over applecart.

  “I gotcha,” said a deep voice to her left, and then the heavy load in Cat’s arms was suddenly gone and she was free to catch herself against the counter.

  “Thanks, Quentin!” she chirped once she saw who it was. “That was a close one.”

  “You almost met your maker.” He set her laundry basket down and slid over a few feet to where he was folding his whites.

  “I never understood that phrase. I’m like, I know my own mother. I’ve already met my maker.”

  He laughed. “I think people are referring to God when they say that.”

  “Ohhhhh. I get it! They’re talking about the cosmic maker.” She made her voice deep and swirled her hands around in the air.

  “So, in your mind God sounds like the genie from Aladdin when he does the ‘phenomenal cosmic power’ bit?”

  They both burst out laughing. “I guess? Jeez. What does that even say about me?” She finished loading her laundry into the washer and grimaced. “Oh, crap.”

  “What?”

  “I forgot my detergent all the way upstairs.”

  “You can use mine,” he offered, nodding his head to where the big red bottle sat on top of another set of washers.

  “What does yours smell like?” she asked, doing something that only made sense because she didn’t give it any sort of lingering thought and stepped behind him, burying her nose in the fabric of his shirt between his two shoulder blades.

  He didn’t even break pace in his folding. “Did you just smell me?”

  “I did.”

  And he smelled freaking amazing. Cat had no idea what his laundry detergent smelled like. All her frisky brain had registered was man pheromones (very delicious). He smelled like a snow leopard stalking through a stand of icy pines. That made zero sense, but it was the best she could do. He’d discombobulated her with his man scent.

  She wordlessly took some of his detergent and turned around to see him smiling to himself.

  “What’s that smile for?”

  “Nothing,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’re funny.”

  She tossed the detergent into the washer and recapped the bottle. “How so?”

  “Well, for starters you just washed all your laundry in one load, without separating. Who does that?”

  She turned and hoisted herself onto the counter where he was folding laundry. “I’m a wild animal, Quentin. Thoroughly undomesticated. Pass those over, I’ll help fold.”

  He gave her a look but handed over a pile of undershirts.

  “No tighty-whiteys to fold?” She batted her eyelashes.

  He just rolled his eyes, biting back a smile. It was fun how easy he was to amuse. She considered that an excellent trait.

  “Can I ask you something?” he asked after a quiet minute of companionable folding.

  “Anything.”

  “What exactly is it about my cousin?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “What is it about him that has you hiding around corners and trying to time your walk to the train with him?”

  “Oh.” She thought for a second. Jared’s appeal could be neatly summed up by that one cartoon cat whose tongue rolls out of his mouth and down the stairs. But Quentin likely wanted an answer more nuanced than that. So, Cat thought of a better way to put it. “He looks like he lives inside an advertisement for expensive watches. I used to think it was a cologne ad. But nope, his aesthetic is definitely top-of-the-line watches.”

  Quentin laughed. “What?”

  “You know, he’s all toned forearms and broody stares. One look at him and you feel like you’re on a hardwood speedboat sipping a martini at sunset. In black-and-white. You know, like a Rolex ad.”

  “So, basically, he’s hot.”

  Cat nodded vigorously. “Absolutely smoking.”

  Quentin snapped the wrinkles out of a dress shirt. “And that’s what you’re looking for? Martinis and forearms?”

  He was facing away from her while he carefully folded the shirt. His coppery hair was longer than when she’d first met him, just starting to curl at the ends. She’d spent so little time with him, but already he was so familiar to her. Something about his presence was calming. He was like warm sun on a comfy couch. He was where she wanted to be.

  Quentin made it easy to want to explain her story. “I guess,” she said. “I mean, that’s not always what I was looking for. But I dated this guy, Sid, for a long time and things were good with him. We were happy together for a while. And then it all just sort of faded away and fell apart.” She reached for more clothes to fold for something to do with her hands. “The breakup itself wasn’t that bad, but it was right around the time my dad had a heart attack, and the whole thing just kind of kicked me when I was down.”

  She stared off into the distance for a second.

  “Anyways.” She sighed. “I guess what I really want is just someone who can show me a good time.”

  “Who really cares about you,” Quentin said at the same time.

  “Oh,” he said with a little smile and a shake of his head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed I knew what you were gonna say.”

  “That’s okay.”

  His laundry dinged and he went to switch it over to the dryer. Cat stared at his back for a moment. Her thoughts were caught in the spiderweb of what he’d just said. Someone who really cares about you.

  It was something to think about, that when Quentin heard her story, he’d assumed that she would go looking for connection with someone. Was that what he would have done?

  Was that what he was looking for?

  * * *

  “HEY, I THINK I’M gonna invite our neighbor over to watch with us,” Quentin said to Jared the next Tuesday.

  After a lot of consideration, he’d decided to find a way for Cat to hang out with Jared. For one, he’d told her he’d do it and he hated going back on his word. Even though it was a nightmare to think of her becoming one of Jared’s casual hookups, he thought there was something kind of condescending about trying to intervene. He didn’t think that Jared and Cat would be good together, but that wasn’t for him to decide. That was for Cat to decide. He had a crush on her, but that didn’t mean he was allowed to screw around in her dating life. Besides, if she got to know Jared better and still wanted to hook up with him, then Quentin figured that he and Cat probably weren’t right for one another in the first place.

  So this was
him, sticking to his stupid principles on a Tuesday night, trying not to crack a molar as he ground his teeth.

  “Huh?” Jared looked up from where he was stirring pasta on the stove.

  “Our neighbor Cat, across the hall.”

  “Who has a cat across the hall? When Lara wanted me to get that pet hedgehog you told me this was a no-pets building.”

  “Jared,” Quentin said with a laugh, dragging a hand down his face. “Look alive over there. First of all, this is a no-pets building. Second of all, you can’t have a hedgehog in New York City. It’s illegal. Third, I’m talking about our neighbor whose name is Cat. I’m gonna invite her over to watch the movie.”

  “Oh. Sure.” Jared turned back toward the pasta and stirred listlessly.

  Quentin had seen Jared mope like this every single time he and Lara had broken up. But it didn’t feel good to see his cousin hurt. “Are you sure you’re all right, man?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be fine. But it’s just really over this time,” Jared said hollowly.

  That was what he’d said last time as well, but Quentin didn’t want to be an asshole by bringing it up. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because she smashed my phone.” Jared sighed as he dumped the pasta into a colander to drain. “She knows I don’t have the money to get a new one right away. Which means that when she smashed it, she knew she wouldn’t be able to reach me for a while. She’s never done that before. Usually when we break up she’s blowing up my phone like crazy for weeks.”

  Quentin cleared his throat. “Maybe it’s better this way. A clean break. It’s harder to get a fresh start if you’re always in communication with each other, you know?”

  “A fresh start? I haven’t had one of those since we started dating sophomore year.”

  Quentin got a sudden flash of the person Lara had been in high school. Chipper and smiley. She’d always had a temper but she’d been...happier. Quentin remembered the way her high ponytails used to bounce when she’d gallop down the hallway to jump into Jared’s arms. When he considered the person she’d been then versus the person she was now, it seemed highly probable that Jared wasn’t any better for Lara than she was for him.