The Revelation (39 page)

“Blane?” Josh said. And then he quoted the exact
line from
Pretty in Pink
I was referring to—about Blane
being an appliance, rather than a name.

“Oh my God!” I squealed. “I guarantee no other man
on the planet could quote Ducky from
Pretty in Pink
.”

“I’m wise and powerful, babe,” Josh said. “I keep
telling you.”

I laughed.

“So what happens next in this particular fantasy?”
Josh asked. “Something tells me it doesn’t end well for poor
Blane.”

“No, it doesn’t. I’m on my date with
Blane
and he’s talking my ear off about taxes or politics or whatever,
and I keep locking eyes with the hot bartender. So, after a bit, I
excuse myself to go to the restroom. And on my way, I slip the
bartender a note on a napkin that says, ‘Bathroom in five.’”

“Whoa,” Josh said. “You little minx.’

“Hot, right?”

“Definitely.”

“So then I fuck the bartender in the bathroom and
when we’re done, I go right back to my sweet but boring date like
nothing ever happened. When Blane and I leave the bar, the
bartender winks at me as I pass by—but we don’t exchange phone
numbers or anything like that—we both just know it was a one-time
thing. Blane takes me home and I kiss him on the cheek and thank
him for a lovely evening like the proper young lady I am. And then
I never see him again.”

“Where the fuck do you get this shit?” Josh
asked.

“Well, this particular fantasy came about as a total
‘what if’ on a real-life boring date.”

Josh laughed.

“But that’s the thing, I have these little pornos
playing in my head all the time, but I’d never actually
do
them. Believe it or not, I’m actually not as big a slut as I
seem.”

“I don’t think you’re a slut,” he said earnestly.
“Not at all. Well, not any more than I’m a slut. Am I a slut?”

“Yeah, a little bit.”

Josh laughed. “No, I’m not. Not nearly as much as I
seem.”

“Then we’re even.”

Jonas clears his throat, drawing my attention back
to my present-day doorstep. He looks remarkably uncomfortable. “So
you ready to head out?” he asks. “I’ve been given strict
instructions to take you for cocktails and to be extremely
boring
.” He rolls his eyes again.

“What did Josh tell you about tonight?” I ask, my
cheeks suddenly feeling warm. God help me if Josh told Jonas
everything about my imaginary-pornos.

“Josh didn’t tell me a thing,” Jonas says.

I exhale with relief.

“All he said was, ‘Kat’s got, like, a thousand crazy
pornos playing in her head at all times and I need your help
setting the stage for one of them so we can act it out tonight.’”
He shrugs.

I cover my face. “Gah! Josh said all that? Jonas,
that’s not exactly ‘not a thing.’ Oh my God, I’m completely
mortified.
Jesus
.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it, Kat. That’s literally all
Josh said. He didn’t give me any details. He just told me to show
up here and be ‘super-duper boring’—which, he said ‘should be like
falling off a log’ for me. I told him to go fuck himself, but then
he went ballistic on me, screaming about every fucking favor he’s
ever done for me through the history of time—which is a lot, I must
admit—so I was like, ‘Fine, motherfucker! Stop acting like me! I’ll
do it—if only to make you stop screaming at me like a fucking
lunatic.’ And then he laughed his ass off and was like, ‘Ha!
Welcome to my world, motherfucker.’”

I laugh. “So you’re here to ply me with alcohol and
bore me to tears, then?” I ask.

Jonas shrugs. “Yeah, talk about asking two fishies
to swim, huh? You get to drink and I get to be boring.”

I giggle.

“Wait, you do drink, right?” Jonas asks.

I give him a perplexed look.

“Kat, I’m
Blane
, remember? I don’t already
know you’re a total lush.”

I snort. “Oh yeah. Well, yes, Blane, on occasion, I
do indeed imbibe.”

“Okay, that’s fine. I don’t drink at all—I hope
that’s okay. I’m a professional baseball player and I don’t drink a
drop during the season.”

I burst out laughing.

“Okay good. I’m glad that means something to you.
Josh gave me explicit instructions to say that exact line, but I
have no idea why.” Jonas leans forward like he’s telling a secret.
“But actually I’ll totally have a drink with you—you know that,
right?” He winks.

“Awesome. Will Sarah be joining us? I bet she could
use a break from studying. She seemed really stressed about finals
when I talked to her the other day.”

“Who’s Sarah? I told you, my name is
Blane
.”
He leans forward like he’s telling me another secret. “Actually, I
tried to pull her away from her books for the night, but she’s
totally freaking out about her exams next week. She said she can’t
afford to go out two nights in a row so she’ll just see everyone
tomorrow night.”

“What? We’re going out tomorrow night?” I shriek
happily. “I had no idea.” I clap my hands and jump up and down.
“Will it be all four of us?”

Jonas suddenly looks like he’s been caught with his
hand in the cookie jar. “Uh.” His face turns bright red. “Fuck.
Josh is gonna kill me. That’s supposed to be a surprise.” He runs
his hand through his hair. “Just pretend I never said anything. My
name is Blane. You look even better than your online profile. I
don’t drink. I’m a professional baseball player. I’m boring.”

I squeal. “Josh is so sneaky-freaky-deaky. I thought
he was coming into town on
Saturday
, did he tell you that?
He’s meeting my family.” I squeal again, overwhelmed with
excitement. “He’s such a sneaky little fucker.”

“Shit. Kat. Stop it. He’s gonna kill me. I’m Blane.
I’m boring. You look better than your online profile. Gah.”

I put out my hand, laughing. “Nice to meet you,
Blane. I’m super-duper excited about our boring date. Let’s go.” I
step outside and lock my door and we begin walking down the pathway
toward the front of my building. Well, actually, Jonas is
walking—I’m careening down the walkway a good five paces ahead of
him, my heart exploding with joy.

“Hey, Kat. Real quick. Hang on.”

I stop sprinting.

“Before I’m stuck being Boring Blane for the rest of
the night,” Jonas says, “can I be Boring Jonas for a minute?
There’s something I wanna ask you about.”

“Sure, Boring Jonas—bore away.”

Boring Jonas takes a deep breath and pulls a ring
box out of his pocket. “Do you think Sarah’s gonna like this?” He
opens the ring box and I’m blinded by the most spectacular rock
I’ve ever seen. “Or should I have gotten bigger?” he asks.

My knees literally buckle. “Holy shitballs, Jonas.
It’s flippin’ gorgeous!”

“You think she’ll like it?”

“
Like
it? She’s gonna sob like a baby with
overflowing
love
for it! It’s jaw-dropping. Glorious.
Fabulous.
Beyond
.”

“But would you go so far as to call it
‘
magnificent
’?”

I laugh. “Absolutely. That’s exactly what it is.
Magnificent
.”

“Phew. It’s big enough?”

“Jonas, any bigger and her knuckles would drag on
the ground.”

He exhales in obvious relief and shuts the box.
“Okay. Thank you.” He runs his hand through his hair again. “I’ve
been losing my mind lately, thinking about getting this right. Josh
says this is the story Sarah will be telling her grandchildren one
day so I’d better not fuck it up.”

“Josh said that?”

“Yeah.”

“Josh said, ‘This is the story Sarah will tell her
grandchildren’
?” I ask, my chest tight.

“Yep. That’s exactly what he said.”

“Wow,” I say. “That’s an incredibly romantic thing
to say.” I clutch my chest, trying to get ahold of myself. “I
didn’t know Josh was capable of saying something so...
epic
.” My heart is suddenly slamming against my chest bone,
banging mercilessly, trying to lurch out of its cage. I can’t
fathom Josh assuming children and grandchildren for Jonas and
Sarah. That’s so...
futuristic
of him. “Well, yeah, Josh is
right,” I manage. “Sarah will most definitely be telling your
future grandchildren about your proposal one day.”

Jonas grimaces.

“But the good news is that you can’t fuck it up no
matter what you do. As long as you speak from your heart, whatever
you say will be grandchildren-worthy, I promise.”

We begin walking down the pathway toward the street
again.

“God, I hope you’re right,” Jonas says. “I’ve been
making myself sick, planning this whole elaborate speech in my
head, trying to get it exactly right.”

I wave my hand in the air. “You’re overthinking it.
Just tell her how you feel and she’ll be thrilled. All that matters
at times like these is that you tell the one you love how you feel,
straight from your heart. Keep it simple.”

We’ve reached Jonas’ car on the street in front of
my building. He opens my door for me and I settle myself inside the
car.

“Thanks, Kat,” Jonas says. “I think you’re right.
I’ll keep it simple and straight from the heart. Nothing too
elaborate.”

“There you go. That’s all any girl could ever hope
for in a marriage proposal—a simple declaration of love from the
man of her dreams.”

Jonas shoots me an adorable look that clearly says,
“
Oh my God, I’m really gonna do this.
”

“You’ll do great,” I say.

He shuts my door and walks around the car to the
driver’s side.

I think this is the first time I’ve ever chatted
with Jonas alone, just him and me, with no one else around. No,
wait. That’s not true. This is the
second
time. The first
was at Jonas’ house the morning after The Club broke into my
apartment—the morning after I first laid eyes on Jonas’ sexy-as-sin
brother. Wow, that feels like a lifetime ago. What did I say to
Jonas that morning, standing in his kitchen? “Sarah thinks you’re
in love with her, Jonas.
Don’t crush her
.” I roll my eyes at
myself. Yet another whiz-bang example of my amazing ability to
sense a man’s true intentions.

Jonas settles into his car seat and turns on the
engine.

“So, I gotta tell you,
Blane
,” I say. “I
don’t have high hopes for a second date. It’s a really bad sign
when a guy asks for advice on how to propose to another girl on a
first date.”

Jonas laughs. “Sorry. From here on out, I promise to
focus all my energy on boring you to tears.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate that.”

Jonas pulls his car into traffic. “In fact, you know
what I’ll do?” he says, grinning. “
I’ll
bore the pants
off you
.” He snickers.

My stomach clenches. “Josh told you everything,
didn’t he?” I choke out.

Jonas laughs gleefully. “Nope. Josh gave me
absolutely no details, just like I said. But I’m not a complete
idiot, Kat, despite appearances. If me showing up at your apartment
and handing you a fucking
poker chip
doesn’t somehow lead to
you and Josh fucking in the bathroom, then I don’t know what would
be the fucking point.”

I cover my face with my hands.

Jonas laughs again. “Aw, come on, Kat. It’s just
me—and I’m a huge fan of bathroom fuckery, believe me. Besides,
what do you care what I think? I’m
Blane
. I’m the boring guy
you’ll never see again.”

I laugh and look out my car window for a long
moment, letting the blush in my cheeks subside. “So where are we
going, Blane?”

“A bar near my house called The Pine Box. Are you
familiar with it?” He’s got a wicked grin on his face.

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am. My best friend and
I once went to The Pine Box to spy on this guy she really
liked.”

“You
spied
on him, huh? What was he
doing?”

“Hitting on another girl.”

“Ooph. Sounds like an asshole.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. But I’ve since learned
he’s a total sweetheart. Best guy, ever. And a perfect match for my
best friend, too. I couldn’t be happier for them.”

I look over at Jonas and he’s absolutely beaming
with joy. God, he’s such a cutie, I can’t stand it. I wanna roll
him in glitter and glue and hang him on my fridge.

He looks at me, his face bursting with happiness.
“You’re definitely way cooler than your online profile, Kat.”

Josh

I don’t know what to do with myself, so I pick up a
dishrag and wipe off the top of the bar for a long minute. I’m so
amped to finally see Kat again, I can barely breathe. A week has
never felt so long. Fuck. I look at my watch. Jonas should be here
with her any minute now.
Fuck.
I’m leaping out of my skin.
Fuck.
I haven’t been able to get that woman out of my head
all fucking week, despite how busy I’ve been with work. The smell
of her. The softness of her skin. The way she laughs like a dude.
That electricity that courses between us when we have sex, nice and
slow. What the fuck
is
that? It’s gonna be the death of
me.

“Hey, bartender,” a guy in a charcoal three-piece
suit calls to me.

I nod to the guy. It’s been a long time since
anyone’s called me “bartender” in an actual bar. Sure, I’m always
“bartender” at parties with my friends, but there’s a special kind
of jolt to being the guy who’s large and in charge in an actual
bar. I’d forgotten how much I love that feeling.

I glance at Tim to my left, the actual bartender at
The Pine Box, seeking permission to assist the guy in the suit and
Tim motions for me to go right ahead. He’s not just being nice, of
course—I’ve paid him and his boss (the owner of the bar) handsomely
for the privilege. But, still, I can’t help feeling giddy to be
doing this again after all these years.

“Hey there, man.” I say to the dude in the suit,
sauntering to him. “What can I do you for, sir?”