Nope. I can still hear him.

I speed up my climb, tag the top, and rappel down.

So much for Zen.

Where rock climbing fails, Wii baseball succeeds.

Ian and I are in the middle of a very close game. I'm up to bat now and savagely nailing his pitches. Screwball, curveball, bring *em. I hit every one, all while entertaining Ian with a particularly pathetic Darwin Award anecdote.

I'm feeling better. Bros over hos every time.

"I don't care how drunk this farmer is," Ian protests. "No straight bloke is going to suggest stripping naked and playing games with his friends."

"To be fair," I reply, "they were very macho games. Hitting each other over the head with frozen turnips, grabbing chain saws and cutting off the ends of their feet."

"b.o.l.l.o.c.ks."

"It's a Darwin Award winner. You can't make stupidity like this up. So the farmer decides he doesn't want to be outdone after the foot thing, grabs the saw, says *watch this' and chops off his own head."

The Wii cheerfully directs us to switch positions.

I pitch a changeup.

"People like that make me feel better about my own life," Ian comments, striking out.

"Best part? His buddy commented that when he was young, he put on his sister's underwear. But he died like a man."

Ian strikes out his second and third players.

"Kicking. Your. b.u.t.t." I gloat.

Attila scampers in and tugs at my leg. I shake it to dislodge her. She tugs again.

"Not now cat," I tell her, taking up position as batter once again. I brush her to the side.

Ian pitches a low ball but I hit it and get to first. I shake out my shoulders.

"That's good. Work off that s.e.xual tension."

I adjust my stance. "What tension?"

Attila tries to get my attention by purring at me but I'm on a winning streak here so I ignore her and she leaves.

"Ally's out with Adam. You're here with me," Ian explains.

"If I wanted to be out having s.e.x, I would. Don't need Ally."

"Yeah. About that. I think as the honorary cousin, dating Rachel and all, I'm supposed to punch you."

"Statute of limitations is up. And I'm not sleeping with her anymore."

"Not that it's still an option," he replies and strikes me out.

I brush it off. My first out of the inning. "Plenty of fish in the sea," I retort.

"And I'm sure you've reeled in lots lately. Other than Al. Right?"

He strikes me out a second and third time in rapid succession.

Ian's cell buzzes that he has a text. He pulls it out of his pocket and glances at the screen. "Gotta go."

"What about our game?"

"Rach finished her essay. She's free."

"I feel used."

"Because you're a dirty boy." He tosses his Wii controller at me and leaves.

Whatever. Who needs guys when there are such excellent girls to play with?

I sit on my couch, phone in hand, chatting to Nikki. "Thought you might want to go see a movie. I know it's short notice but..."

She cuts me off with an excuse about a friend's birthday party.

I rub my jaw, irritated. "No. Another time. Talk to you later, Nik."

So what? There's a whole wide world of chicks to pull. I dress to kill and head out to make some foxy lady very happy.

Except when I get to the club that's lax on IDs and rich in females and see all the people queued up hoping to get in, I just can't stand the thought of joining them.

Even though the bouncer nods at me and opens the rope to let me pa.s.s, I give a small shake of my head and a wave goodbye.

My favorite indie theatre is just down the block. A much better idea.

"One please." I hand my money over for a ticket to the fly cashierist who is all Southern charm.

"You all alone tonight, sugar?"

She smiles at me.

Score.

On a scale of one to ten, I'd give it a "pleasant". The deed got done but the earth did not rock, the mind was not blown.

If Ally has wrecked s.e.x with other girls for me, I'll kill her.

Best not get into that dark head trip. Pleasant happened. Happens to everyone. No need for worry.

I haven't done my customary apres-sprint. I'm thinking that maybe I should extend my new philosophy of just talking and hanging with girls to hookups as well.

Show Ally that guys, at least, are capable of change.

I smile as Southern honey Gemma enters the living room in a bathrobe. She gives me a surprised look.

"You still here, hon?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out and grab a coffee or something?"

"Can't," she replies in a tone that really means "won't."

She tosses me my shirt. "But it's awful sweet of you."

Gemma waits pointedly for me to get up.

Yeah. I get the hint.

This is messed up.

Chapter twenty-six.

No big surprise I get grilled by Rachel.

"I should have seen it coming." She shakes her head as she sits on her bed folding laundry, like she's mad at herself.

That makes two of us. "And what if you did? It's my life, Rach. I know you love me and you mean well, but I'm not your baby cousin to watch over anymore."

Rach is silent for a minute. "You're right. And I shouldn't treat you that way."

"Thank you." I snag a cute top of hers and hold it up to myself in the mirror, checking myself out. It's a keeper. "I'm borrowing this."

Ian arrives and kisses Rachel. "What are you two ladies chatting about?"

"Her sleeping with Sam and how she's a grown up and it's not my business," Rachel replies.

"Good girl. Though I did threaten to punch him," Ian tells me.

"Sweet, Ian. But not necessary."

"As your friend, not your older and wiser cousin, may I just remind you for future reference that friends with benefits never works. Someone always gets more involved."

Ian agrees with her. "That's why I started dating you before we could become friends."

"I'm just your ho? Leave the cash on the dresser and no talking?"

"Not just talking," he says. "No kissing either. Full on hooker s.e.x only."

He puts his arm around her. She rests her head on his shoulder.

"I can live with that," she says. "I've got enough friends."

"If you're finished being nauseating, I thank you for your concern. But Sam and I are fine."

Mostly.

"And I have a cute boy to meet." With that, I take off.

The boyfriend has racked up an impressive number of awesome points. So I've brought him to the bowling alley to see if the boy's dexterity extends to the lanes.

All I can say at this point is that Adam certainly applies the same level of concentration to everything. He's been holding his bowling ball for about three minutes, so laser-focused on those poor pins at the end, I'm amazed they haven't exploded in a cloud of dust.

Since I'd like my turn sometime this century, I decide to interrupt whatever meditative state he's in.

"Hey, hon," I begin.

I get no further because he turns around with a look of patent exasperation.

"I'm trying to concentrate."

That's fair but let's get real here, shall we? It's a one-off bowling game, not the Middle East peace talks. If I learned anything from my time with Jeremy, it's that I refuse to be anything other than equal to my boyfriend.

Jeremy did, in hindsight, have a bad tendency to dominate.

"It's just bowling," I point out, making sure to keep my voice cheerful. No need to come across as a b.i.t.c.h.

"Just?" Adam's expression seems practically sorrowful. "Done right, it's a Zen moment of connection between man and ball ending in the triumph over the pin."

"And done wrong?" I can't help but ask.

"Ally." Said with maximum displeasure before turning back to his contemplation of the lane.

I'm so happy to be dating someone who is smart and into me and who so obviously has so much pa.s.sion. For everything.

But where is this guy's sense of humor? I'm inappropriately tempted to bowl a Flintstone ball on my turn and see how that goes down.

I won't though. Instead, I apologize. "Sorry. I'll keep quiet."

He turns around. "Babe, you spoke again."