Collide Into You: A Romantic Gender Swap Love Story (9 page)

Before Julia jumps out, in a low voice, she says, “Welcome to the gang. You and me,” she motions with her hands, “are the sane ones. Word of warning: don’t accept any of Nebraska’s bets tonight.”

“Okay,” I say, but mostly to myself since Julia’s already out of the car before I can respond. I unfasten my seat belt.

“At least it was quicker this time,” Aaron says to Justin.
 

I turn around to say something, but Aaron leans over and kisses Justin briefly on the lips. A tingle stirs in my belly. There’s something exciting and sexy watching two men kiss. Justin’s eyes meet mine. There’s a challenge there.
Say something
, his gaze orders.
I dare you to say something negative.
 

“You have an interesting family, Justin,” I say. I see a smile form on his lips as I exit the car. What I don’t say is,
I wish I had what you had.
Though, perhaps without the crazy field trips.

Dillan

I
T
ISN
’
T
LONG
BEFORE
I come to the conclusion that Nebraska must have some sort of death wish. He also had a propensity for the carefully—or not so carefully—crafted double negative sentence.

Within a few minutes of entering the minivan, I learn everything that I need to know—that I
want
to know—about the man.
 

His semi-professional boxing career was cut short by his enlisting in the military. Some sort of court-ordered mandate. “I’ll get back into boxing once I’m out,” he says enthusiastically, as if he’s giving a pep talk to a group of teenagers. “I’m still pretty fit. I might even get into mixed martial arts fighting. I’d ask you to punch my stomach. It’s as solid as a rock, but I’m a little gassy tonight. Should’ve said no to that sixth corn dog.” I’m the only one listening, and it’s because Nebraska continuously leans over me to talk to Ruby-Doll.

I learn that he was once featured on the cover of
People
magazine after a national news anchor said
yes
, and then
no
, to his marriage proposal, and that he still gets fan mail from all over the country. “Elderly ladies are the best pen pals, ever, man!”

Then there was something about a former company commander shooting Justin, or as Nebraska calls him,
Hotten
, in Afghanistan; several Federal detainments; a seedy bar called The Itchy Nail; and how he solved—single-handedly, apparently—one of the biggest military conspiracies ever to exist that the public never knew about. “Can’t say much about it, of course, but if you get a few beers in me, I can’t promise not to
not
tell you all about it, Dillan. I feel like I can trust you. Any friend of Keira is a friend of mine. I mean, I just met her today. But I like you, man. You have a confident-looking face. So…” He hesitates after the car is parked in front of the big, gray building. My fingers are practically embedded into the passenger seat’s headrest. “Are you two dating or what?”

“The appropriate answer is, none of the above.” I rub my jaw.
A confident-looking face?
I’ve never heard that particular compliment before.

“Ah, I see,” he says, nodding. “Sometimes you shoot and you
don’t
score.” He then
helps
me out of the minivan. To my left, Julia removes Ruby’s car seat, rolls her eyes at us, and carries the whole thing with her.

“It’s not like that. We’re roommates,” I say.

One of Nebraska’s red eyebrows raises. “Excellent. So Keira is fair game?” He claps his hands together.

“What?” I choke out.
Fair game?
Hell no. Everyone else is already in the building. The sign in front says
Potomac Hospital for the Criminally Insane — Juvenile Ward. 601 Canal Road. Washington, DC.

Nebraska elbows me. “Thought so, buddy.” He eyes me knowingly. “Don’t worry. I’ve never messed with another man’s girl before, even if she isn’t his girl yet. Man code.”
 

“Do you—do you think she likes me?” I ask quietly.
Why do I sound so insecure?
I’m Dillan freaking Pope. Ladies man. Charmer. A sexy devil.

The man laughs like he’s never laughed before. “Not really. I don’t think she looked at you once, pal.” He puts a hand on my shoulder in a reassuring manner. Then he squeezes it. “I meant what I said earlier. Great arms. Amazing shoulders. I’m really glad you’re on my team. Justin and Julia, who are both highly competitive, always kick my and Aaron’s asses. Hope you’re good at bowling. I’ve got a bet brewing for tonight that I can’t wait to tell you about. Come on, let’s go in.”

Once inside, and after a security check-in counter where we have to leave either a hundred bucks or our drivers license, I fork over two fifties and meet the rest of the gang at lanes eleven and twelve. The area is bright and atmospheric. The walls are white and contain bowling slogans and high scores. The smell of popcorn hits me so strongly that I remember I never had dinner. Which reminds me: I forgot to cancel the reservations. The overhead speakers play rock music from the 1980s. Half of the lanes are full, and the rolling and crashing of pins completes an authentic picture.
 

If I didn’t know the building once was a criminally insane ward for teenagers, I would have called someone a liar for even suggesting it. And this is just the first floor. What were the other three floors converted into? I ask Nebraska if he knows.

“I hear the second floor might become a gym, the third floor a restaurant and conference center, and the fourth floor is apparently reserved for several penthouse-style suites.”

“Seems like the type of place well-paying corporate owners could rent by the week to do some team building. Secret conferences off the grid, you know.” I tuck the knowledge away just in case I need it for the Joy Fromm case. “How’d you find out about this place?” I find an eighteen-pound ball. It’s orange, blue, and purple, all swirled together.

“I won a bet against General MacWilliams a few months ago.”

I’m not sure who General MacWilliams is, but I think he might be Keira’s new boss. “What kind of bet?”

“I bet that I knew exactly how much he weighed. If I was right, he had to tell me a Washingtonian secret. If I was wrong, I had to do two thousand push-ups. The way I see it, either way I was going to be a winner. The man’s a sucker for harmless bets.”

“That’s not true,” Justin says as he ties on his bowling shoes. “The man’s a sucker for
any
bet, especially the kind he thinks he doesn’t stand a chance of losing.”

“So how did you win?” Keira asks. She asks it behind me. I didn’t realize she had been listening. The timing is interesting since we’ve got our own little bet going. I wonder if each of us thinks we won’t lose. Probably.

“I’ve heard this before,” Julia says, shaking her head, but not in an irritating way. I thought, at first, that she and Nebraska were a couple, but apparently I was wrong. “I’m going to order a few pizzas and then feed Ruby. Does anyone want anything from the snack bar?”

Everyone gives her their orders—which is mostly beer. I hand over a twenty, hoping it will cover what I owe. It’s the last of my cash and I don’t feel comfortable using my credit card here. I notice everyone else hands her cash, too.

“I’ll take my niece,” Aaron says, and Julia hands a sleeping Ruby into Aaron’s arms.
Niece?
Other than Ruby’s white-blonde hair, I can see a bit of resemblance. But I won’t ask. None of my business.

“I wonder if she’s wearing her gun,” Nebraska says nonchalantly, but there’s a gleam in his eye as he watches Julia walk away.

The ball nearly drops from my hands. “What?” I ask.

“Julia’s a field agent with the FBI’s Washington Bureau. Since I’ve known her, I think she’s arrested me at least twice. Maybe three times. But the warrants don’t stick. Counting on the fourth happening tonight. Anyway, you don’t want to know about that.”
Actually, I do
, I think. “So,” he says louder, reminding the group of his center-of-attention status, “how’d I win the bet? Simple. I’m a former semi-pro boxer. Knowing what people weigh comes with the territory. I followed him to the men’s locker room. I took my guess and then he stood on the scale, clothes and all. I won, he lost, and he told me about this jewel of a place.”

As he’s talking, I notice that Justin and Aaron both mouthed,
“I’m a former semi-pro boxer”
at the same time Nebraska says it, and I have to wonder if this statement is Nebraska’s typical answer for the many questions asked of him.
 

All of them—Julia, Ruby, Nebraska, Justin, and Aaron—feel like one big family. With the exception of Ruby also being Aaron’s niece, no one is related, but I can tell they experienced something big enough to keep them together. I know that Justin, Nebraska, and Aaron served together overseas, that Justin and Aaron are a couple, and now the three of them work together at the Pentagon. How did Julia go from arresting Nebraska to becoming part of their family?

It was all cute
and
chaotic, if something could be both. Sometimes, a family is more than blood relation. It’s who understands you, who accepts you, who loves you.

I look sideways at Keira. This is why
her
brother is a brother to me.

“Lanes have been turned on,” Julia says as she puts three big pizza boxes on the round tables behind the swivel chairs. Someone from the snack bar follows her and places four pitchers of beer on the other table. “Me, Justin, and Keira against Nebraska, Aaron, and Dillan. Team who loses has to pay the exit fee for the entire group.”

“Exit fee?” both Keira and I ask at the same time.

“I told you it would be an interesting night, Keira,” Justin says with a smirk on his face. “This is the kind of establishment where you pay the privilege to enter
and
exit. Trust me when I say we found out the hard way last time. Polishing fifty bowling lanes is not fun. We brought enough cash to cover you two since you didn’t know.”

I stand next to Keira as Julia throws a strike in lane eleven. Nebraska, after two goes, knocks down only seven pins. Everyone gets a turn. I knock down eight and pick up the last two, and Keira gets a strike with her twelve-pound, bubblegum-pink ball. I scowl at her and she sticks her tongue out at me. Justin throws strike after strike while Aaron, after he puts Ruby back in her car seat, never manages to knock all the pins down.

Other than Julia, who’s the designated driver, whenever someone gets a strike, everyone takes a gulp of beer.

The competition seems to be between Julia and Nebraska, and after seven rounds, they are somewhat even.

“I’ve got to beat Julia tonight, buddy,” Nebraska confides in me after he throws two strikes in a row. They must have some sort of bet going, and I wonder if this is what he said he’d tell me about later.
 

I’ve already had two beers and my aim is either getting better or it’s getting worse, but I just can’t tell. What I can tell is that Keira has barely finished her first beer, so she’s on her game and isn’t as buzzed as I am.

I watch as she steadies herself, takes aim, and moves forward. Her slim hips sway left, right, left, right, and it mesmerizes me.
 

“Strike!” Julia announces even though none of us need a verbal announcement. Amazingly, Ruby barely makes a noise, even while awake. “She’s got my stubbornness,” Julia says to me as I look down at her. “Plus, she’s used to loud noises and these guys’ loud voices. They’re softies around Ruby.”

“Seems like a great, loving family to me,” I say. I didn’t mean it as a loaded statement, like,
explain it to me why you’re such a loving family
, but Julia stares at me for a long second, then nods.
 

Finally, she says, “Yeah, I don’t know what I’d do without my guys.”

Nebraska, for a tall man, runs gracefully up to Julia, nudges her side, and proclaims, “Guess who beat your score, Agent Fenske?” Julia looks up at monitor, and her face darkens. She must have lost the bet and I have to wonder what exactly Nebraska will extract from her with his win. “Your turn, Dillan,” Nebraska says, nudging me. “Last round for you and Keira.”

I look at the scoreboard in the ceiling. I’m at 231 and Keira’s score is 207.

The first roll, I knock down six. Stupid nerves! I pick up the last four on the second throw. With the extra, third turn, I demolish all but one pin. My final score is 256.

“Beat that, Sergeant Brunette,” I whisper in her ear as she passes me to get her ball.

She picks up her pink ball and crushes out two strikes in a row. I cringe as I see the score. If she gets five pins with her third bonus roll, we’re even. If she knocks six or more down, she wins. She retrieves her ball from the holder, steadies herself, and my eyes lock on her hips. The ball rolls and seven pins bite the dust.

Final score: 258. I sigh into my hands.

On the way out, Nebraska and Aaron hand over three hundred dollars for our exit fee of fifty dollars per person. Julia, Justin, and Keira’s total score obliterated ours.

Keira saunters up to me and places her hands on her hips. “When we get home, I’m getting that answer, Dillan.”

I almost laugh out loud. I didn’t mind telling her, bet or no bet. But she is going to be
so
mad when she realizes what she
won
.

Keira

F
OR
THE
ENTIRE
RIDE
BACK
, I couldn’t get the word
home
off my mind. I can’t believe I said it. Home. Dillan’s apartment wasn’t home. I would barely classify it as a place to crash, but never a home.

Now he was going to think that I liked living there and that I wanted to stay. Granted, I hadn’t even begun to look for an alternate living situation. And it wasn’t like Dillan had hinted that I should stay. He hadn’t said anything about me moving out, either.

What I can’t figure out is why it even matters to me what he thinks. And why do I even want to know what the lipstick message really meant? Dillan’s attractive. So what? I’ve been down this thought-road before.