Erin McCarthy

The Nemesis Affair


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she was übercharming and utterly adorable. Though he had said he was straight, so how adorable he would find her thinking she was a man, she couldn’t say. But something about the freedom of texting a total stranger at random with no necessity to impress him was amazing and liberating.

      Not only did she not have to impress him she could be as bossy and flippant as she wanted. It was awesome.

      And if this picture was real, Liam was a sweaty, muscular mountain of manliness she wanted to climb.

      Damn. “He’s hot. I mean, I can’t really see his face, but what I can see is all hard and yummy.” She tilted her phone for Katrina to see it. “Rugby. Men legally shoving each other in pursuit of balls. I love it.”

      Katrina laughed. “So now you’re a rugby fan? Please.” She took the phone and studied the picture. “This is one masculine man, I agree. But this is a professional picture, you know. I bet it’s lifted from a social media site. It’s probably not even him.”

      Well, that would spoil all the fun. “Really? You think so?” Katrina was a social media expert, so if anyone would know if something was sketchy, it was her.

      “Let’s do a reverse image search and find its origin.” Katrina tapped and swiped. “It’s a picture from the website of the Brooklyn Rugby Club.”

      That was deflating. “So it’s probably not him, is it? Shit. I really like the idea of bossing around a hot guy.”

      “It might be him, but it could be a classic catfish case.” Katrina handed her the phone back. “Make him send you a time-stamped selfie to prove it’s him. You know, him holding today’s Wall Street Journal.”

      “It’s a tangled web of deception we live in these days, isn’t it?” she said, texting Liam, calling him out on the photo being from the rugby website. “And who knew there is a Brooklyn rugby team, by the way? Because I didn’t. Why don’t we go to those games?”

      “Um, because we have better things to do?”

      “I don’t.” She meant that most sincerely. “I’m unemployed, remember?”

      “And by the way, I don’t think you can be butthurt about being catfished when you told him you’re a man.”

      Huh. Good point. “That’s not the same thing.” Never admitting she was wrong was another one of her thoroughly unmarketable talents. “I never actually lied and said I was a man. I just implied I was.”

      Katrina pulled the door to the deli open. “True. And you said you didn’t want to meet him. But now that there is an albeit remote possibility, but possibility nonetheless, that he is this foxy rugby player, you totally want to meet him, don’t you?”

      Busted. “If that remote possibility proves to be reality, then yes, I won’t lie, I do want to meet him.” She stepped into the deli. “Despite my omission of truth, I am a woman, and I find his physical type hot, I can’t deny it. But, I can’t meet him. For multiple reasons, not the least of which is that even if he were to forgive me for failing to mention my gender, he is precisely the type of guy I should be avoiding. I don’t need a competitive man in my life.”

      Pulling her knit hat off her head, Katrina stuffed it into her hobo bag. “You’re nuts, and I regret my suggestion for you to search Craigslist for a job. You obviously can’t handle it.”

      “Hey!” She laughed. “I can handle Craigslist.” Glancing up at the menu she added, “What I can’t handle is all this meat. OMG, I thought being vegan was in these days. Look at the size of those corned beef sandwiches, holy crap. I’ve seen smaller smart cars.”

      “We need a base in our stomachs before we go out and drink cheap wine at the bar.”

      “I can’t afford cheap wine. I’m down to like my last ten bucks, I swear.”

      “I’ll spot you.”

      “No, because I have no idea when I’ll be able to repay you.” Unlike her student loans from college, she didn’t want to defer paying Katrina back indefinitely, so it was better not to get in debt to her friend.

      “Think of it as a congrats for getting this nemesis deal.”

      After ordering a corned beef sandwich the size of her head, Samantha was debating how much energy she had to continue to argue with Katrina when her phone buzzed.

      It was a picture from Liam. He was wearing a smirk on his face, and have mercy, he was shirtless. In front of his very studly chest, he was holding up the newspaper. Pinching it to make it bigger Samantha checked the date. Yep. Today. Then he sent another pic with a sign that he’d written on. It said Jealous? There was an arrow pointing to his six-pack abs.

      Six-pack abs that were sort of oily and sweaty and looked very lickable. His arms were muscular, strong. Capable of throwing a rugby ball, knocking over the competition and lifting one petite Jewish girl with red glasses above his waist while he pumped hard into her...

      “I need that cheap wine, after all,” she told Katrina. “Fuck me, Liam is hotter than my apartment in August.”

      Suddenly her Friday night didn’t look so sad and lonely after all. She could send sexually ambiguous texts to a man so hot the fire department should be hosing his ass off. Silently, eyebrows raised, Katrina held her hand out.

      When her friend studied the photos, her mouth dropped. “I stand corrected. It appears he is actually the dude on the rugby team website. Which is admittedly very cool. But now I’m just confused as to why a hot guy needs someone to verbally kick his ass. Doesn’t he have coaches and whatnot to do that?”

      “I have no idea, but I’m not about to complain.”

      Truthfully, Liam was not pretty or handsome in the classic sense. His features were too imperfect for that. But he had a sparkle in his eye and an aura of such pure masculine mojo that she basically wanted to drop her panties for him. And she hadn’t even met him in person. Imagine what would happen if that occurred. It boggled the mind. Pushy, aggressive, dominating, bossy, hot sex, that’s what would happen.

      Sitting down, she crammed her mouth full of meat. “I think going all this time without dating was a mistake. Or at least, I should have created a reliable booty call because suddenly the lack of sex in my life feels like a crisis.”

      “The guy is pointing to his penis,” Katrina said, sounding sympathetic. “You’d hardly be human if that didn’t affect you on some level. He is your type, too. But remember that is precisely the type of guy you’re trying to avoid.”

      “I know, I know.” Grumble. “I can’t go back on that one. Dating competitive and aggressive guys just left me as a perpetual wet noodle. It’s not a good look.” Pushing her glasses up, she allowed herself a sigh. “The whole point of taking on this weird sort of job is not just to make some extra cash but to learn to be more assertive. When I was with Ben, I basically became whatever he wanted that day. I don’t know why I do that, and I am determined not to repeat it.”

      “So don’t meet Liam. Simple.”

      “He wants to meet next week to work out payment options. I also think he wants to screen me.”

      “Instead of meeting him, why don’t you just Skype? Come clean about being a woman after he’s seen how awesome at giving him shit you can be. Then suggest an online chat or phone call.”

      That might work. It would mean she would have to admit that she was very much female, but if she wowed Liam in the meantime maybe he wouldn’t care. Either way, she could probably only hide her gender for a few more days before he caught on. “That is probably wise.”

      She thought about what to text in response as she took another huge bite of her sandwich.

      Then she typed. Not jealous. Confused.

      Confused about what?

      Why you want a random stranger to boss you around when you have coaches and teammates.