Nice Guys Finish Last, edited + new chapter

With so much confusion about the male species, I knew in order to get the answers I was searching for I had to go directly to the source. James Shaw. James was what you might call my rentable boyfriend. He was the person I could go to movies with, have the adventures and deep talks with, minus the drama that comes with real dating.
Have you ever walked into a restaurant and there is one guy that every woman can’t help but notice? James had that appeal and the confidence to match. Although somehow he and I had become the best of friends, I was still fully aware of the fact that hundreds of women were dying to trade places with me. I knew that if I wanted the truth about a man’s hidden agenda, James would tell it to me like it was. I sat in my car with the radio going for about five minutes. Leaning back into the cool leather, I stared at the clock--Jason would be landing in four hours. My blue eyes stared back at me in the rear view mirror, I was transparent and I had a guilty conscience. The passenger seat would soon be occupied and the backseat full of baggage. I groaned, pushing my sunglasses back over my eyes--it was now or never. I got out of the car and felt the heat rising off the pavement, it was the dead of summer and most people had the right idea to stay indoors, protect themselves from getting burnt.
I slid into the booth at Red Robin, folded my hands on the table and immediately started confessing like a kid in trouble, “I let another man kiss me, and it wasn’t my boyfriend. What does that mean?” I bit my lip and braced myself for the truth.
“You’re horny?” was all he said before looking at the menu. It was simple and not at all what I had expected to hear.
“What do you mean, ‘I’m horny.’ That’s...” I sucked in an exasperated breath and rolled my eyes at him, “That’s just, just..not helpful. What a lame answer. Here I came thinking that you would tell me what was really going on.” So much for a rentable Buddha.
“Okay then, so he’s horny.”
He shrugged nonchalantly, sitting comfortably with his arm draped over the back of the booth. Calm, cool, indifferent. Now I was really reeling. What a boy thing to do, over simplify everything, “You know James, not everything is about s-e-x,” I hissed as the waitress hurried over. I studied his response, no facial twitch, no sign that what I said had struck him as rational.
His honey brown eyes grazed over the empty restaurant and then looked up to the approaching waitress indifferently, “No. I hate to be the one to tell you this, when it comes to guys--yes. Yes, it is just about sex. You’re hot, he was horny and he thought he could get laid.” He proceeded to order a cheeseburger, completely oblivious to the fact that the waitress was now drooling over him.
“How would you like your burger?” She looked up at him from her notepad, smiling flirtatiously.
“Medium...Medium-well. With a side of french fries, please.”
“Absolutely. I’ll put medium-well, that’s how I like mine too.” She cooed, closing her book and walking back towards the kitchen. I raised both my hands in disbelief, watching her giggle to her friends as she moved to the computer. I couldn’t believe it, she actually forgot I was even sitting there. What if I had been his girlfriend?
“Excuse me, miss? Excuse me?!” I called after her, raising my normally quiet voice. She giggled, jogging back over, “Oh my bad, so sorry,” she replied more to James than to me.
“I’d like the chef salad with an extra side of bleu cheese dressing.”
“Low fat bleu cheese?” She asked. I felt like I had suddenly entered into an old-fashioned duel with a ditzy high school waitress. Not only was she ignoring the fact that I could possibly be James’ girlfriend, but now she was making me look like some kind of unhealthy, calorie loving, wallflower. Not happening. No, absolutely not, I refuse to let some valley talking bimbo make me feel inferior. I had a great figure and I didn’t need to order low fat dressing that tasted like crap to keep it.
“No, your low-fat dressing tastes asinine,” I let the words drip from my tongue like acid, “but thanks.” I smiled sweetly and then shoved the menu at her.
If there is one thing that drives me up the wall about being a girl, is that sadly--I cannot stand girls. Particularly girls that feel the need to put you down and make you look bad, usually in front of men. Maybe I was overreacting and imagining the whole thing in my mind. Things had been stressful and I was even fed up with dealing with myself and my self-inflicted emotional roller coaster. Just before I could start to feel bad about my juvenile behavior, she turned over her shoulder and winked at James. Seriously? The bitch had balls.
“Whatever, do you think you she could be anymore obvious?” I snapped, he smiled innocently and I continued back to my order of business, “but James, I’m not the type of girl a guy would just try and sleep with. I’m not like that.” It felt like a personal attack that he had limited my encounter with Evan to such a physical thing--as if all there was between us was nothing more than a cheap hook-up.
“Call it what you want. You were drinking, things happen. Just let it go.” Now his attitude was infuriating me.
“So you’re saying that when a girl is at a club, that’s like having a stamp on her head that she’s easy? I don’t dress like a slut, I don’t act like a slut, so why would you lump me together with the sluts?” I could picture in my head those women, the desperadas. The women who drink a little too much to compensate for their bad behavior--as if being drunk was the free ticket to hang all over every cute guy you meet, or after a few drinks..every not so cute guy you meet. Why was he talking about relationships as if they were so black and white? And why would he just assumed Evan wanted nothing with me? Since when was it all or nothing? Where was the middle ground, the gray area?
“Well, what do you want me to say? If he was interested, you would be dating. It’s all the same at the bars, just trying to get ass.”
“I just thought..” I felt myself trailing off, lost in my own thoughts. Had I been thinking so much this whole time that I hadn’t seen what was right in front of me? The obvious, cold hard truth, “I don’t know what I thought.” His words had stung. I felt like an idiot.
James was so matter of fact about it, as if it was completely obvious. Was that all Evan ever wanted? Had I been thinking about ending my relationship with Jason over some guy that had just wanted to get into my pants? The questions began and I just couldn’t find the off button. It is true, what James was saying, I believe in the fact that men still have some aspect of Alpha male or cave man in them: Boy sees girl, boy wants girl, boy gets girl. It was very simple and it seemed painfully true. I paused, pulling my wounded ego together, “I guess I see your point. I mean the book He’s Just Not That Into You spelled it out for me. Brutal honesty. I guess, it just..mm I don’t know,” for the first time in 48 hours I didn’t want to think,“Anyway, what’s been going on with you?” Changing the subject was the only thing I could do to salvage my confidence and get the image of a desperate woman dropping a blow dryer into a bathtub. Maybe we were all desperadas, depending on what man you asked over lunch.
“Not much, same old, same old. I’m still seeing that girl.” He said it as if I should know exactly who he was talking about. We had been friends for over a year and this was the first reference to that girl.
“Excuse me, James, who is ‘that girl’ that you are still seeing? When did this happen?”
“A few months now, maybe 3? I’m not sure where it’s going. She gets uncomfortable when I mention where this is going,” his voice attempted to camouflage the pink elephant in the room.
“What do you mean? She doesn’t want to be in a relationship with you?” Immediately I began picturing some dime piece knock out that had men eating out of the palm of her hand. It never occurred to me that someone could have the upper hand in a relationship with James. He was the guy: the guy that guys wanted to be and girls wanted to be with. He was James and he was great.
“She says she doesn’t want to put a title on it, you know how it is,” he sighed lightly rubbing his forehead as the waitress placed the food down on the table, never taking her eyes off his mouth. This was getting a little ridiculous. James had women falling all over themselves and he was all about a girl who didn’t want to be his anything. I could tell he was frustrated, definitely more apathetic than usual. Maybe he was being so dismissive of what happened at the club with me because he was being dismissed in his own love life. There must be something in the water. It seemed all around me, people were all about people who didn’t want to give them the time of day.
“So basically.. she’s milking the cow for free,” I retorted, it felt good to say something critically back to him. I smiled and patted his arm, “Never thought I would live to see the day.”
He laughed, recoiling it as if I had burned him, “Hey hey, don’t jump to conclusions. I never said I wanted to be in a relationship, I have no idea where I’m going to be in a year. I agree with her, it’s just not a good time to be putting a lot of time into a relationship that may not have time.”
“Then why are we talking about her?” I raised my eyebrows suspiciously, he may be able to fool his guy friends with the nonchalant comments, but I saw what was really going on. He had been dating a girl for a few months and she was wearing the pants.
He shook his head and shrugged, helpless.
“It just seems to me, that it shouldn’t matter if you don’t know where you are going to be in a few months..I mean if you meet a girl who really peaks your interest--isn’t it worth seeing where it goes before you determine it can’t go anywhere?”
“Nah. I mean, I don’t know. I guess if I was going to consider being in a relationship with anyone-it would be her. But I’m not going to bank on a future with someone when I’m not even sure what my own future is.” His rationalization was legitimate, but it got me thinking about the beginning of relationships. We all have expectations but no guarantee, how would we ever start a relationship if we knew it was going to end?
“Well, no relationship has a guarantee. I can’t go out with a guy and ask ‘so are you going to be a dick in about 2 months?’ or ‘in 3 months are you going to get bored and start checking out other women in front of me?’ That’s the thing about relationships, it’s kind of like jumping off the deep end and all the while, just hoping the water won’t be freezing.” I paused thoughtfully and then continued, stealing one of his french fries, “But I mean if it is freezing or you manage to break a leg upon contact, I’ll be here to help pull you out and hand you a towel. Or, take you to the hospital, which I guess in this metaphor would be some kind of strip club to take your mind off things.”
He laughed easily, “You lost me, are you saying she’s going to break my heart?”
“No, nevermind. It was just a metaphor I took too far,” I managed to reply as I was mid-swallow on a handful of ketchup covered french fries.
He laughed putting on a dramatically confused face, “Come again? Eat much?”
“Yeah, you’re hilarious. What I’m trying to say is, I just think it sounds shady that she isn’t willing to give you the commitment but has no problem taking all the benefits.”
He paused thoughtfully, “I guess. I guess for right now, it’s like she said last night, being happy together should be enough. Right?”
I nodded, “Yeah, sure. But it’s just weird because instead of playing house, your playing relationship.” It made me feel slightly better in some sense that a handsome catch like James could have problems finding someone. Perhaps, it’s not that there is some kind of defect with single people or people who have problematic relationships: but more so, that we are all just trying to find the right someone to bank on a future with.
I looked over at James and smirked as he told me an embarrassing story about one of his co-workers, offering me another french fry. I realized as I ate it that in spite of all the confusion--in this moment I was happy.
I got back in my car and started heading home, I only had about a two hours before I had to go to the airport. I started envisioning what I wanted my own future to look like. As much as I enjoyed the spontaneity of my single life, I equally enjoyed the security that came with the familiar nook of Jason’s neck. When I think about Evan, my heart skips a beat in my chest. So what’s better--the spontaneity of the unknown, or the comfort of the familiar? Is it possible to have both? Something told me as I parked in the garage and looked at Jason’s sports equipment on the workbench that I couldn’t have my cake and eat it too. I needed to make a choice and when it came down to it--I wanted to be with someone who loved me, for me. Maybe James had a point, maybe instead of worrying and over analyzing about what that kiss meant--I should just be happy in the moment with Jason and forget all about Evan and..sparks. Granted, I would love to have a little bird sit down on my shoulder and tell me everything Evan was feeling--hypothetically, would there ever even be a future with Evan? Evan and I had sparks, but did he have a nook for me?


Chapter 5
“There is a more important question to be asking yourself. Why are you spending so much time thinking about another guy, that isn’t your boyfriend? Listen to yourself. I haven’t heard Jason mentioned much, Dump him,” Jessica’s voice came in loud and clear in spite of all the background noise over the phone.
I paused, sinking further into the bath tub, swirling the bubbles around with my finger, “Dump him? I know there are problems. If there weren’t problems I wouldn’t even be noticing other men in the room. But, is the problem between us or is it just me?” I sighed, staring up at all the cracks in my ceiling.
Truth be told, Jason was Prince Charming. He was successful, smart, thoughtful, the list could go on and on. He just wasn’t sexy, the excitement was lacking on the weekends and in the bedroom.
In perfect timing, her question interrupted by bubble-bursting, “So when was the last time you had sex?”
“Mm..sex or good sex?”
“Sex should always be good.”
“Not when you have to get up early in the morning.”
“Dump him.”
“Oh come on. All couples go through a rut. It’s not realistic to be in a serious relationship with someone and not have the sex dwindle a little bit. Life happens.”
“Married couples! For couples who have been married for 10 years. Who have already had 10 years of mind-blowing, amazing, sex. They are entitled to a rut. Not a couple who has only been dating for a few months. Snap out of it, you sound like some kind of Park Avenue spouse who has popped out 4 children. Hello, who are you and what have you done with my hot friend Delaney?”
I sighed again, closing my eyes. I could not remember the last time I had felt incredibly sexy. I have always had this fantasy of a man walking through the front door, pushing me up against the wall and ripping off my clothes: Buttons flying, heavy breathing, cantwaittogettothebedroom amazing sex.
“Unrealistic. I think we’ve just seen too many movies which in turn lead to Hollywood inspired fantasies of what life is like. What relationships are like. I’m not Hollywood and I’m not Park Avenue. I’m..well i’m totally lost.”
“You’re not lost, you’re lacking lust.”
“True. Painfully true. So what do I do?”
“Do what any self-respecting girlfriend does. Knock a couple cocktails back, put on your sexiest underwear and pounce him when he gets home. Show him your Hollywood fantasy.”
“With Jason? I just can’t imagine him being passionate.” The words hung in the air, like the bubbles I wanted to pop them. Instead, I finished shaving my legs, watching the foam slide off the razor. Then, it hit me, that not only was my relationship in a rut--so was I. It just wasn’t going to work, “This is so bad isn’t it?”
As my bestfriend for over 10 years, I couldn’t believe she could stand me. I had never been a girl who would settle for someone while I waited for the one. That is how people got hurt. As the truth washed over me, I still knew I wasn’t ready to give up on my someone when I had no one, “Black bra and panties, or red?”

Chapter 6
Even in the evening, the heat still emanated off the pavement. I parked the car, scribbled down the row and level, shoved it into my purse, and applied Jason’s favorite vanilla lipgloss. I angled the rear view mirror lower, adjusting my cleavage in my black push-up bra. I had decided that red was too feisty, black kept it simple and sexy. I wore my favorite black summer dress, clinging to my body subtly without overdoing it.
I walked through the automatic doors and clicked my foot waiting for the elevator. A happy couple stepped out, barely mid-make out session before the doors opened intrusively. They giggled passed as he tugged her forward into a playful hug. Disgusting. In truth, it made my heart ache a little. Would Jason and I be that couple?
Jason rarely complimented my figure, but when he did I knew it was sincere. Ex-dates in the past had made that mistake, over-complimenting. Jeff, for example, a handsome guy from a loaded Italian family--he had everything going for him. That is, until I answered the door and all he could say was, “Wow, Delaney James, you look just amazing. Really stunning.” Compliments are great, in moderation, after awhile it becomes overkill and superficial. He continued on, unabashedly admiring my ass in my jeans, “Are those True Religions? Or Rock N’ Republics?” My jaw almost hit the floor as I sputtered the response, wondering how his metrosexualness had gone undetected. Nothing worse than getting a shopping partner when you wanted a real man to get down and dirty with.
I looked up at the screen with the departures and arrivals. I squinted, trying to differentiate all the flights coming in from New York. I moved to outside the security check point, a shiver coming over me as I thought about the stress of the security check point. I stared at the man staring placidly at the x-ray scene, just waiting to ruin someone’s day by taking their liquid necessity.
An older man smiled up at me, his plaid pants and worn v-neck sweater reminding me of my pop-pop. I smiled back, “Who are you waiting for?”
He laughed sheepishly, tapping his cane, “Nobody special. What about you?”
I cocked my head to the side, “Nobody special? Well, I’m actually just picking up my boyfriend.”
His snicker caught me off guard, “Not one of those lesbians? Seems like all you young people are lesbians or gays.”
My eyes widened briefly, so much for cute old man, “No..no not one of those.” With that, I politely turned my back and moved over to the airport Starbucks nestled between a newsstand and the touristy desert store. My savior, lit up in green lights, from awkward conversations.
I picked up a black coffee for myself and a carmel macchiato for Jason. That was the first drink he ordered after we met. We had walked together from the park and tied Bachi beneath his seat and sat outside, talking about our lives, movies, politics, religion, Bachi--it was the first real conversation I had had in a long time. That was what I loved about Jason, I chewed on the tip of my nail, thinking about what a fool I had been to risk losing him. I picked up the two drinks, walked over to the coffee condiment stand, put one bag of splenda in his and two in mine along with some vanilla powder. Jason and I may not have fireworks per se, but we respect eachother. We were like two ships, but instead of passing in the night, we were parallel. I pulled out my phone, his flight should have landed by now. Just as I was dropping it back into the abyss, it vibrated from a text, Evan.
When am I going to see you again?
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Just as I was going to press delete, my obnoxious “Sexy back” ringtone started filling the area around me. The black coffee spilled onto my arm and the phone dropped out from my pinky. Painfully embarrassing and annoying. The phone spun around on the brown tile and irritated business men glared at me from their laptops. I crumbled down to the floor in an awkward squat, trying to make sure my dress kept all things hidden. I picked up the phone managing to say “Hello?”
“Dee? Where are you at? I’m standing outside security.”
“Oh babe, I’m at the Starbucks, be there in a second.”
“No worries, I see you now.”
I threw the phone into my bag, thinking how it would have felt better just to throw it into the coffee, against the wall, or even at one of the assholes who didn’t bother to help me. I scooped up the coffees and turned to see Jason. He looked so official in his khaki’s and white button up shirt. He actually looked older than 26, his hard work had aged him.
“Hi beautiful, I missed you.”
His arms felt so secure around me. Jason would lose sleep before missing a work out, and his hard chest showed it. He gave me a quick kiss on my neck and a loving pat on my butt.
“Missed you too stranger,” I gave him a quick kiss on the lips, extending the carmel macchiato proudly. He stared at the cup, muttering a confused thanks.
“Remember, from our first coffee date?”
“Yeah, remember how much indigestion I got from drinking it?” He scoffed, chucking it into the garbage can as we walked towards the elevators.
“Oh, well I would have drank it, you didn’t have to throw it away.”
“You’re blonde is showing. So, how was your weekend?”
I stared up at the top of the doors, watching the elevator come back down. We definitely weren’t ever going to be the couple that had stepped out earlier. I sighed, “Pretty uneventful, just went out with Sara and Amber.”
“How trashed did they get?”
“What do you mean?”
“They are pretty much alcoholics, really, you should try and find some classier women to spend time with. Think about how that makes you look.” He sighed, staring down at his Rolex impatiently. “Jesus, how long does it take the elevator?”
I was still processing what he had said about Amber and Sara. He had come out with us when we first started dating, and never again. Now I guess it was making sense, he thought that anyone who had a few drinks at a bar was a raging alcoholic. My friends could be rowdy but never sloppy, what’s so bad about having a good time? I found myself saying it aloud.
“There is a difference between having a good time and being irresponsible. Come on, Delaney, we aren’t in college anymore. Time to act like adults, settle down.”
The elevator doors opened and we stepped in, “What floor?”
“Oh shoot, um..” I dug through my purse searching for the piece of paper, “I think 5...um I’m not really sure. Just one second.”
“For Christ sake Delaney, I leave for one weekend and you just fall apart? Check your inside pocket.”
Sure enough, the little paper was there 3D.
“Level 3, row D.”
“You should really organize that thing.”
“Do you have anymore snide remarks to make? I’m sorry my friends and my purse aren’t good enough for you. But what do I know, I’m blonde.” I snapped, rolling my eyes, leaning back into the cold metal wall. The cool silver felt good on my back, I could feel the tension returning to my shoulders. As generous and kind-hearted as Jason was, he was also incredibly judgmental and serious. I realized now why I hadn’t gone out in so long, it wasn’t worth the third degree questioning I would receive from Jason when I got home.
He pulled me to him, putting his arm around my neck, it just felt heavy instead of comfortable, “Don’t be silly, I’m sorry, it’s just how I feel.” He kissed my forehead, “I’m just tired from my flight, that’s all.”
I leaned into him, giving in. “So you didn’t want to go get dinner then?”
He sighed, “Not really, I’d rather just chill out on the couch, open up a beer, and watch the game. It was a pretty crazy couple of days.”
“Oh, well, is there room for one more on the couch?”
“Absolutely, but you’ve got to give me a neck massage in exchange for the seat.”
He reached and took the keys from my hand, always preferring to drive. He said my driving made him nervous, something about accelerating into turns instead of decelerating. All I knew was that I had a license and zero accidents, that was good enough for me.
I retreated into the passenger seat of my own car, turning the radio down while watching him adjust the seat.
“So tell me about New York.”
“Pretty good, it’s nice to be home though. I have some big news, I was going to tell you over dinner but since that’s not happening, I guess now is as good as any.”
My stomach turned, I looked out the window watching a plane take off before turning back to stare at the hard outline of his face. His jaw clenched and his eyes danced in excitement, “I got a promotion. Big promotion.”
“Really?! That’s fantastic, congratulations baby. You deserve it.” I squeezed his hand and patted his leg affectionately.
“Good, I’m glad you feel that way. The only thing is that I’m going to have to be in New York for the next few months. You know, just to help the new branch take off.”
My stomach turned again, “A few months? Wait, so you’re moving back to New York?”