A Fine Mess (Over the Top) by Kelly Siskind

makes me want to shield her from the world.
    Mine, mine, mine.
    But she’s not. Not when I’ve made it clear I’m not willing to take things further.
    She looks at me the way my mother looks at my asshole of a father, and I’ve seen what happens when assholes break hearts. If I hadn’t been home that day, shit would have been a lot worse, and there’s no denying my tainted DNA. If I truly care about Lily, I should push her away. Sayonara. Have a nice life. Who needs a girl friend anyway? I should flaunt chicks in front of her like I did at the grand opening of Moondog Toronto. Dick à la mode.
    Seeing her with Kevin that night was a kick in the balls. The only answer: retaliation. I put on a show with my date, and she kissed the man-child in front of me. The incident instigated the Pussy-athon. Up until National Cockblock Day, I got busy with as many willing partners as there were days of the week, and twice on Sundays. (I’m a religious man.) But no amount of coital bliss could erase the visual of Kevin sucking Lily’s face.
    I could try harder this time. I could repeat my sexcapades with renewed vigor until she hates me, but maybe, possibly , there’s a slim chance I’m more like Finn than like our sperm donor. Finn is Mr. Monogamy. He’d sink with his ship. You could tie a naked Kate Upton to his bed and swear up and down Meryl would never know, and the dude would hightail it out the door. My sister-in-law may be a doctor who performs circumcisions, but it’s more than fear. Finn is a solid guy. The twins have him as their bitch, and he loves every second of it. He’s a family man, through and through.
    Could I be like him? Devoted? Honest? Loyal? Kolton thinks so, and he’s seen me at my worst. It’s not the most farfetched idea. I’ve just never had a reason to test those waters.
    Until Lily.
    I study her as she picks up a ring, her hair a bit frizzy from her hat. Pale skin. Delicate hands. Knees that often turn in. How this slip of a girl got under my skin, I’ll never know. But she has burrowed deep.
    Superpower wish: genetic control, rewrite my DNA .
    She holds up her new treasure. “Found a good one.” The blue stone in the center of the ring catches the light of a nearby lamp, the thick band decorated with filigree.
    “Okay,” I say. “You first.”
    She swallows and peeks at me from below her lashes. “There was this man.” Another swallow. “He was a soldier about to be shipped off to war.” She scrapes her teeth over her bottom lip. “He bought this ring but didn’t propose to his girl before he left. He was afraid. He didn’t think he’d do right by her. But he held on to it during every battle, and every horrible night. When he got home and realized he was being foolish”—she looks at me with glassy eyes—“the girl had fallen for someone else.”
    Single Lily fights dirty.
    If witnessing Ethan fucking Goldstein’s wandering hands was hard, seeing her fall in love with another guy would probably feel like swallowing acid. And she’s calling me on it. Maybe I am being foolish. Maybe I’m more my brother than my father, and I could make us work. How much longer can I resist her, anyway?
    My pulse kicks up a notch as I approach her. I stop a foot away and hold out my hand. “The ring, please.”
    Trembling slightly, she places it in my palm, her fingers grazing my skin.
    “A man,” I say, turning the band over, “proposed to the girl of his dreams with this ring.” I step closer. “He worshipped her. I mean, she was hot as fuck”—eye roll numero cinco —“but they were meant to be, like real soul mates. Then the unthinkable happened.” I shift my feet until there’s barely an inch between us.
    Self-control at DEFCON 2.
    “What happened?” she whispers.
    I grin. “A car fell on her. Freak accident. Dropped from the second story of a parking garage. Nasty mess.” I grab her hand and place the ring on her finger as she mumbles something about my maturity. I knock