"She's easy to talk to and has a big heart. Very loyal. She's an artist and does commission work for an ink shop downtown."
"I like her already. She sounds neat."
"Yes, well, you can't ask her out. She's mine. You'll have to find your own hot tattoo artist girlfriend."
She stuck her tongue out. "She's not yours if you can't get her to go out on a date with you."
"Touché. Why don’t you come out with me and play wingwoman?”
“I would do that. When and where?”
A gruff voice called from the entry. “What does being your wingwoman entail?” Bo shuffled in, bleary-eyed and grumpy. “Because I outta get a say in how dates with my girlfriend go down.”
I kicked out a chair for him, and he collapsed in it. With one big hand, he corralled AnnMarie’s plate and polished off her leftover eggs and toast, and then he pulled the cup from her hands and drained it.
She rolled her eyes. “I think being on a date with Finn would reduce his ability to charm another woman. What does the wingwoman position entail in your eyes?”
“She vouches for a guy,” Bo said and got up to fill a plate and the empty mug. “Her mere presence validates the guy she’s with as decent. Doesn’t matter how much pussy that asshole has slayed, if he’s standing next to a girl and that girl isn’t afraid or disgusted by him, he’s golden.”
“Gross, Bo.” Annmarie,” AnnMarie frowned, “and language, please.”
“Sorry,” he said around a mouthful of eggs. “I’m a work in progress.”
“I might have put it a different way,” I interjected. “But Bo’s right. Plus there’s the added bonus of people wanting what other people have. In any event, hanging out with a girl who is not your friend with benefits gives you instant credibility.”
“That’s screwed up,” she scowled.
“We don’t make the rules,” I protested.
“You only manipulate them to your benefit,” she finished.
I quirked an eyebrow and shrugged. “I wouldn’t say manipulate.” Had I manipulated Winter into having sex with me? Was that why she turned away? Because she was hurt and angry? No, I think the hurt came from my silence. The way that I let her walk away without calling her back.
I was ready to make up for that, and if she needed to be wooed, I could do that. “Forget the wingman shit. We’re past the stage where you vouching for me would be helpful. What I need is take her out on a good date. Wine her and dine her. Lay your ideas on me.”
"I took AnnMarie to the Natural History Museum," Bo said. "Chicks dig museums."
"You did not," AnnMarie exclaimed. "That was for our assignment."
"If you want to think we were meeting there for class, by all means, delude yourself."
"That was our first date?" AnnMarie looked confused.
"Sunshine, our first date was Advanced Economic Theory when I winked at you and you glared back." Bo bent over and kissed her neck. She pretended to be offended and tried to push him away. He was about a hundred pounds heavier. She wasn't moving him anywhere. Bo lifted her out of her chair and set her on his lap.
"If we're labeling dates based on random interaction with the opposite sex, then I've been getting around," I mused.
"Ignore him," AnnMarie said. "Remember, you were the one who correctly placed Bo at level three on an evolutionary scale of ten."
"Me man, you woman," Bo grunted.
"I hope you don't plan on making a living with this routine." I raised my eyebrows. "No offense, but I've seen five year olds with better comedic timing. Do you realize, though, that we don't date anymore? We talk, hook up, realize that we're suddenly sleeping with someone, and then are too lazy to make a change."
AnnMarie pinched Bo's side, and he made a big show of grimacing. "Take her on a picnic. Maybe out to your farm?"
I rolled the idea around in my head. "Yeah, I like it. Thanks, sweetheart." And then to piss off Bo, I leaned down and kissed AnnMarie's forehead. Bo kicked me hard enough to bruise my shin, but I laughed. It was worth it.
I headed downtown to the jobsite and checked in with Henry. He and I had come to a tentative agreement of mutual uncertainty. His was more accurately labeled distrust, but the other night at the strip club apparently made me appear more manly in Henry's eyes because when I saw him, he actually said hello instead of his usual grunt.