Danny opened a beer, tossed the bottle opener on the floor, and fell back on the couch. He let out a long sigh and sank further in the cushions. He took a swig and found himself staring at the ceiling.
That went well, he said to himself. He scoffed. God, he should have told Alex that the party wasn't a good idea, stood his ground, like a man. Men stand their ground. But, she seemed so excited that she was "opening him up", whatever the hell that is. What is it with girls always wanting to change their boyfriends? Danny was happy the way he was, thank you very much. He was a relatively content person, no matter what Mindy said.
Ugh. Mindy.
It's all her fault. It's always her fault. Whenever something went relatively wrong in his life, Mindy was always behind it. God, it was always her. Her and her stupid, pseudo-psychotic, romantic comedy crap ideas about how life should be. That isn't life. That isn't reality. Reality is, you meet a girl, you fall in love, you get married. After a few okay years, you come home a day after your fifth anniversary to find her in bed with the guy from across the hall. That's life.
Mindy, on the other hand…Mindy wanted the fairytale. Which, did not exist. How many times has he told her that? She never listened, that was her problem. She only saw what was right in front of her, and what's right in front of her was often jackasses and losers. Josh, the guy who dumped her for that other Indian girl, and now the prostitute.
"Who brings a prostitute to a party?" he cried out to the air.
He took another swig of beer and got himself off the couch and started to walk around aimlessly. God, what was wrong with her? He rolled his eyes. How many times a day did he ask himself that question? When it came to Mindy, he just didn't understand.
She was a successful doctor in New York City. She was smart, she was funny (when she wasn't being downright irritating), she was caring. Why couldn't she find the guy who could appreciate her, all of her. Her hair, her smile, her eyes.
Danny stopped in his tracks and pinched his nose when he thought of her eyes. He then thought about their conversation they had outside.
I didn't ask to be your friend.
The words rung in his ears. All he could see was the hurt in her eyes when that came out of his mouth. God, he was such a dick. He was also pretty sure that if Parker hadn't interrupted, he would have said more things he would've regretted.
He took another swig and back up into the counter. He found himself sitting on a barstool, where he finished off the beer. He looked at the empty bottle and contemplated getting up and going to bed. No. Danny decided that he needed to get drunk.
So, he shuffled to the fridge. He opened it and grabbed another bottle of alcohol, and took the cap off like a robot. He didn't even bother to sit back down. In less than a minute, maybe a minute and a half, the beer was down his throat. He tossed the empty bottle in the trashcan.
Who did she think she was? She was always giving him "life advice" when her life was an absolute wreck. She was always more interested in other people's business when she should really be focused on her own. God, she was such an idiot. For such a smart woman she was such an idiot.
Danny opened the fridge again, but stopped himself. He turned on his heel to the liquor cabinet. He found a bottle of Jack in the back and he grabbed a glass.
He poured himself three fingers, swirled it around, and sipped. His father always said that a gentleman savored the taste of whiskey. It was ironic. The bastard was an alcoholic, and a son of a bitch, but that's the one thing he did right. He knew how to choose a drink.
They were brown. Mindy's eyes were brown, deep brown. They were really easy to get lost in, too, now that he thought about it. They were…intoxicating? Was that the word he was looking for?
Danny coughed. Maybe that's how Mindy got guys. Her eyes. They were a trap. A trap for the opposite sex to fall for.
He went back to the couch and thought about it for a moment. Jeremy fell for it (those two tried to keep it stealthy, but everyone in the office knew, those two couldn't keep a secret for shit), there was that guy, who was in the Marines, but that only lasted for a day, and Mindy tried to get him dishonorably discharged. Still, decent guy. Then, there was that kid who was a "minister", Stevie (thank God that ended), Brendan Douche-Laurier.
The thought of Mindy with Deslaurier made Danny swallow and tighten his grip on the glass. He sat forward, grinding his teeth. Mindy said that Deslaurier treated her badly. That fact alone made Danny want to punch him in the gut. Mindy was a good person, a little clingy at times, and a bit selfish, but she had a good heart. If Deslaurier couldn't see that, he was a dick. Well, he already was one, but the fact that he was a dick to Mindy made him even more of a dick.
Kind of like Danny was at the end of the party.
"Shit," he said to himself. He didn't even know where that whole "I never asked to be your friend" thing came from. It just…slipped out. They were friends. They certainly seemed like friends at the party. In the shower.
The shower. Jesus, he didn't even know how they got there. She was just poking around his house, not giving any thought to his privacy, per usual, and somehow, they ended up in his shower.
And he was so close to her and her perfumed smelled like lavender. He would bet his life it was one of those celebrity scent things, but he liked it, anyway. He couldn't focus on anything else, even when she was teasing him about dandruff and having a washcloth (what's so wrong with having a washcloth? It's normal. People have washcloths.) And all he wanted to do was push her hair back behind her ear.
It was all good until she had to go and open her big mouth to Alex about Christina. He was going to Alex about her. He was. He just never really found the right time. But, that didn't matter now. Mindy had done it for him and Alex was gone.
The best part was when Adam left. He just planted one right on her lips, for God and the world to see, in the middle of his living room. What kind of a person does that? A prostitute, that's who.
"In the middle of my living room," Danny growled as he downed the rest of his drink and winced as the alcohol burned him. He didn't even have time to react before it happened.
As it happened, because it was a fucking ridiculously long kiss, all he felt was this knot in his stomach. He didn't even know where it came from. It was either from the fight he was having with Alex, or the fact that Mindy and Adam the Prostitute were basically having sex in the middle of the living room.
All he wanted to do was punch the jackass. He just came out and said, "I'm a prostitute". The look on Mindy's face…she knew she had screwed up, again. And Adam didn't even think about her. God, she always dated immature assholes. Just for once, Danny would like to see her with a good guy. A guy who looked after her, was financially stable, could take care of her. A man. A man like him.
Wait, what?
A man like him? What was Danny thinking, a man like him? He and Mindy would not work. They were on two different ends of the spectrum of life. It would end in disaster. They would have to see each other at work and it would be awkward and the office would take sides and then one of them would have to quit because of the tension and it would probably end up being him because he was a gentleman, but in this economy, he wasn't really sure if the world was in need of another male OB/GYN at the moment. In short, a relationship with Mindy would lead to chaos.
He rubbed his face. Maybe he really did need to go to bed. He got up, left the glass on the coffee table, and headed to his room.
He stopped when he realized that he would have to see her on Monday. She wouldn't talk to him, not after he said that to her, unless it was completely necessary, maybe no even that. She would probably have Morgan talk to him for her, and then Morgan would ask questions and annoy him enough to finally get it out of him. And then, Morgan would tell everyone in the office and Danny would be seen as even more of a jerk than he already was. He didn't have time to deal with that.
Also, if Mindy didn't talk to him, who would? He was pretty confident that she was the only one who could tolerate him for a decent amount of time, and probably vice versa. And he liked the way she always had a stupid Meg What's-her-face movie on in the break room and the way she always had him read off what was in the snack machine. And Danny liked the way that, after an operation, she would be so pleased with herself that she wouldn't be so self-conscious and she would forget to put her contacts back in and leave on the glasses that he always thought suited her.
"Damn it, Mindy," he whispered as he walked over to his coat.
It took him ten minutes to walk to her house. There was no way he was paying fifteen buck to go a few blocks over. Plus, he needed the exercise and the cold air to sober him up a bit.
As he entered her apartment building and got on the elevator, he noticed that his palms were sweaty. Also, his heart was beating rapidly. What was going on with him?
He tried to ignore it, but it just got worse when the elevator dinged and he was on Mindy's floor, walking to her door. He paused, debating whether to do this or not. He shook his head and squared his shoulders. "Come on, Castellano. You can do this." He bounced around a bit, like in boxing, shaking out his nerves.
That all went to shit, fast, because as soon as Danny was in front of Mindy's door, his palms were so sweaty that when he rubbed them on his jeans, he could have sworn they left a wet spot. His heart was beating so fast that he was afraid that he might collapse, right in her hallway, like an idiot.
He looked down, cleared his throat, knocked on the door, and waited.
It was the longest seven seconds of his life.
He finally looked up when he heard the door open. Mindy was standing there, in an over-sized t-shirt and pajama pants, holding a pint of ice cream. Rocky Road, her favorite. Her hair was in a bun and she had mascara running down her cheeks.
Shit. Did I do this? he asked himself. He resisted the urge to step forward and wrap himself around her. Instead, he said the first thing that came to his mind.
"Hi."