Wait With Me (2023)

[bunniefuu]

Yes!

Ooh, boy.

Oof!

Ooh!

It's not p*rn.

It is

best-selling entertainment.

Mwah.

Excuse me,

but you look familiar.

I'm sorry, what?

Do you work in

a veterinary office?

Oh, that's gotta be it.

You look so familiar.

I'm Betty and my poodle's name

is Misty, the teacup black one.

No, I'm sorry, Betty.

I'm a writer.

Maybe you've read

one of my books.

Oh, what's your name?

I write under the pen named

Mercedes Lee Loveletter.

Is it Christian romance?

No.

Is it Amish? Oh, how

I love those Amish novels.

Definitely not Amish.

Are you writing now?

Yes.

May I see?

I'm afraid I don't let anyone

see my work in progress.

Needs an editor's touch.

You were in here

yesterday too, right?

And the day before?

Okay.

What's the problem?

Did management send you in here?

No, no.

I'm just the baker.

Betty the baker.

You do the cookies.

Yes, I make the cookies.

The scones?

Holy cow, those scones

are delish.

- Do you really think so?

- Oh, yes.

- Have you tried the danishes?

- I haven't seen the danishes.

I usually get here around 10.

They must be gone by 10.

Oh, well, that's a good sign.

I think so, too.

Good for you, Betty.

How many days have

you been in here?

Is there something

terribly wrong with your car?

I bet they could

get you a rental.

Actually, I'm not

really a writer, Betty.

Can you keep a secret?

I'm here with corporate.

We've been worried about

the service in this branch,

so they sent me here to scope

things out for a few weeks.

Well, I'd never heard

any complaints before.

Ah, but you wouldn't.

It's all very internal.

But I'm going to need you to

keep my presence here quiet.

If that's okay.

Mum's the word.

Thank you for your discretion.

We aren't worried

about you at all.

Hi, Dean.

Kate, I don't need

an oil change.

Yes, but you're my friend and

you'll do anything for me.

I need your car so

I don't blow my cover.

I lied to an old lady.

I'm in deep.

This is so desperate.

It doesn't matter.

What matters is that I've got

my writing mojo back

and I'm not giving it up.

Please?

Why don't you just

find a back entrance

instead of borrowing

every neighbor's car?

You never thought of that?

This deadline has

me freaked out, okay?

No, whatever.

- Wait...

- Thank you!

You don't need my car?

Nope!

sh*t!

Are you okay?

Oh, my God, my computer.

Okay, it's not cracked,

but will it boot?

Oh, rookie mistake.

This is what I get

for not backing it up.

Oh, okay.

Phew!

Hey.

Are you hurt?

Huh?

Um...

You, uh, you work here?

I do.

I'm a mechanic.

Were you getting a service?

Yes.

Then what brings you back here?

Completed cars are out front.

These back doors are

the employee entrance.

Right.

I, um...

was coming out for a smoke.

Great.

Can I bum one?

Weren't you just fake

smoking licorice?

- You saw that?

- Yes.

Before my triumphant fall,

I saw something that looked

like a make-believe cloud

of cherry smoke

floating all around you.

I quit smoking three months ago.

Licorice helps.

- Doesn't hurt.

- Maybe hurts the ego.

How macho is it

to fake smoke candy?

My ego is never in danger, babe.

Well, with book boyfriend arms

like that, it's no wonder.

- Book boyfriend?

- Book boyfriend.

The leading man

in a romance novel

that readers claim ownership of

because he doesn't likely

exist in the real world.

Basically, the ideal man.

I haven't heard of that before.

I'd take it you're

into books or something.

Or something.

And it doesn't surprise me

you've never heard of it.

You're not my demo.

What if you're my demo?

Well, we won't know

that until the end.

Fess up, where have you been?

The library, like

I told you in my text.

Bullshit.

You smell like

coffee and rubber.

Also known as freedom.

You actually went back

to the Tire Depot.

Kate, come on. They are going

to call the cops on you.

For what? Stealing complimentary

coffee and cookies?

Come on.

That's not a thing.

But loitering is.

You think they'd really do that?

Anyway, I found a back entrance.

No more borrowing cars.

Oh, that's even better.

Skulking in and out of

side entrances, brilliant.

I don't care, Lindsay.

I found my words at the TD.

And I'm not letting go

until I'm done.

The TD?

Tire Depot.

It's such a mouthful.

You know what's a mouthful?

Prison.

This is a crutch, Kate.

You've got to see that.

Who cares? I couldn't write a

thing before I went there.

And writing is what keeps me

in this posh townhouse

on the outskirts of

beautiful Boulder.

If I want to continue being

this stunning creature

living the high life,

I have to follow the vibe.

And the vibe is

strong at Tire Depot.

Can we stop dancing around

what's really going on here?

Watch yourself. That is

luxury-reclaimed barn wood.

This is about your ex

who happens to

still live with you.

He's gone for the summer.

That is hardly living together.

And as soon as he gets back,

I'm not budging.

We're playing this

game of chicken,

and there's no way

I'm letting that entitled fucker

take this house.

So even though

you can't write in it,

you want to fight for

the house with no vibe?

That's irrelevant.

There's no way in

hell I'm moving.

I have to write

a follow-up bestseller.

That is no small feat.

I live next door

to my best friend.

You don't want me

to move out, do you?

No.

What?

It looks like a letter

from Tire Depot.

They figured it out?

Stop being so dramatic.

Have they ever mailed

you something before?

No. Oh, my God. What if this

is the moment I feared?

They might be taking

my mojo away.

"Dear Miss Smith,

we have taken notice

of your enjoyment of our

customer waiting area."

Read it.

An invoice for refreshments?

- Holy sh*t.

- How did they know?

- What?

- $180 for lattes and cookies.

Kate, how many did you eat?

I don't eat lunch.

- Wait a damn minute.

- What?

- This has danishes here.

- Okay?

I have never had a Danish

there in my life.

- You haven't.

- I'm being punk'd.

- Dean.

- Dean.

Okay, here's a plan.

I'm going to kneel here.

You knock on the door.

When he opens it, junk punch.

Kate, what if he didn't do it?

I mean, that's so extreme.

Surely he has a punch to the

balls out coming for something.

He's a mountain manwhore.

They always have it coming.

Why are you so mature?

You're a d*ck,

and I know that fake

invoice was from you.

Nice to see you too, Kate.

Just be grateful she

didn't junk punch you.

I saved you from that.

- Thanks, Liz.

- Mm-hmm.

How'd you know it was me?

The letterhead was too perfect.

And I know you know

how to use Photoshop.

You should try to suck more.

Oh, that is the first

time I've heard that.

You should have seen her, Dean.

I thought she was

going to start crying

when she saw that letterhead.

Look, I tried to get you

to come check out

my co-working space.

We've got coffee and donuts

there too, you know?

Eh, those aren't my people.

Not my vibe.

And your vibe is this tire shop?

You gotta see it

to believe it, man.

If you find your vibe somewhere,

you have to fight for it.

Tire Depot is to me what

Fanny Braun was to John Keats.

Poetry in motion, man.

Okay, you sound like a lunatic.

What if you could work better

and faster elsewhere?

You'd have more time

to hike, bang chicks,

prank your friends,

buy more plaid trousers.

Oh, you've been noticing

my slacks, Kate?

No, and don't

change the subject.

I feel like a f*cking champion

when I'm blasting out words

and sitting next to some gal

who's wasting her

life on social media.

It's a real morale boost

for Mercedes Lee Loveletter.

And I still can't believe

you hit a best-seller list

with that pen name.

My readers get me.

They'd have to.

So you're going back

there tomorrow?

Hell's yeah.

This smut won't write itself.

I have two large pizzas,

parmesan breadsticks,

a pound of boneless wings,

and three dipping sauces.

Mercedes Lee Loveletter.

I have two large pizzas,

parmesan breadsticks,

a pound of boneless wings

and three dipping sauces.

Mercedes Lee Loveletter.

I have two large pizzas,

parmesan breadsticks,

a pound of boneless wings,

and three dipping sauces.

Claim it now or

it's going in the trash.

I'm Mercedes.

I've been calling your name

for like five minutes.

Well, I didn't order a pizza.

I don't care.

f*cking whore.

I'm trying to keep

a low profile.

Everyone is staring at me.

I'm f*cking mortified.

Laughing so f*cking hard.

You interrupted my a**l scene.

I was in the zone.

Wheezing on the floor.

How do you have time for this?

Don't you have a book to write?

Best 53 bucks I ever spent.

You're back.

I had an issue with

one of my tires.

Which car?

I drive the Cadillac SRX.

A Cadillac?

Isn't that kind of

an old lady car?

It is not an old lady car.

It is a luxury SUV

and it is wonderful.

Well, if you have that

kind of money,

you should look into

a Lexus or a BMW.

Much more sexy feel to the body.

Maybe I don't want a

sexy body feel.

What's your name?

My name is Mercedes.

That's perfect.

You'd look damn fine

in a Mercedes.

What do you drive?

An Indian motorcycle.

Why am I not surprised?

Am I that predictable?

More predictable than

my old lady car.

Well, it's nice to officially

meet you, Mercedes.

I'm Miles Hudson.

Now tell me why

you're really here.

Would some leftover pizza

keep you quiet?

I might buy you some time.

Time is all I need.

- You're serious?

- Super serious.

Very well, Mercedes.

I'll leave you be, for now.

See you around

the water cooler, Miles.

You haven't noticed

that hot redhead

in the comfort center, have you?

Nope.

Were she there today?

Yeah, and yesterday.

What was she doing?

Just on her computer.

So she's siphoning free Wi-Fi.

Call the cops.

We got a mooch on our hands.

I don't get a

mooch vibe from her.

Mostly feels like desperation.

Mmm.

Now it all makes sense.

You have a fetish

for desperate girls, bro.

- I do not.

- Yes, you do.

You like to save them.

Be the gallant protector,

who sweeps in, guards them.

This girl does not need saving.

So she's nothing like Jocelyn?

Dude, I'm done with Joss.

Can we please stop

talking about her?

Miles, you got dumped by

your longtime sweetheart

for some rich, ugly prick.

That sh*t sticks

with you forever.

What a sausage fest.

Why do we live here again?

Because my uncle's the manager.

And no other boss would

put up with our sh*t.

And maybe that.

Oh, definitely that.

Hey, Justin. I'm gonna

close up tonight, okay?

Hey, Red.

Mercedes?

sh*t, did I pass out?

Yeah.

Have you fainted before?

Only when I don't eat.

Why didn't you have

a cookie or something?

I feel bad eating

all the cookies.

Betty works so hard on them.

It's bad enough that

I drink all the coffee.

What's wrong?

No one ever tells her how

good those cookies are.

I got here early so that

I could try her danishes.

And they were already gone.

How crazy is that?

Betty has to get up so early

to make them fresh every day,

and then people just

gobble them up in seconds.

I wonder if anyone

appreciates her in her life.

Do you know if she's married?

Betty gets a hug from

me every time I see her.

The guys here

love her baked goods.

- Really?

- Really.

That's really sweet.

I'm sorry.

I get emotional when I'm hungry.

You know how

some people get hangry?

I get I'm emungry.

- Emotional and hungry?

- It's a thing.

I got them to add it

to Urban Dictionary.

Well, let's get you

something to eat, then.

Like pizza.

Not cookies.

I love pizza.

I know.

I saw your shirt the other day.

With the pizza?

I love that shirt.

Oh, my God.

I am probably bugging you.

You're not.

Please. I practically

just fainted in your arms.

We could not get any more

book worthy if we tried.

Mercedes, this isn't

the first time

I've had a girl faint

at the sight of me.

Just feed me

before you start reciting any

more cheesy romance novel lines.

I had to k*ll a guy for these.

I hope you didn't

get blood on them.

Jesus, now what?

Oh, come on. There was

nothing sexy about that.

I just stuffed my face

with a breadstick.

So, what are you so busy

doing every day

that you forget to eat?

All I can say is that

I was in the zone.

You need to drink water.

On a day that you didn't

faint into my arms,

you could have a beer first.

But please, for my own sanity,

will you drink some water first?

Thank you.

Now, tell me what

you're doing every day.

Think of this as a safe space.

Nothing will be

held against you.

And you've been doing this

for over three weeks now?

Basically.

But why won't you tell me

what you're writing?

Because it weirds people out.

I won't judge.

You'll judge.

Well, if you tell me

you're writing

the next "Game of Thrones,"

we'll basically

have to get married

and live happily ever after.

It's not the next

"Game of Thrones,"

but thank you for

the most romantic proposal

I've ever received.

You get a lot of proposals?

Yeah.

Only from guys with issues.

I don't have issues.

Where were you born?

Utah.

What brought you here?

Tech school.

Did you know anyone

when you moved out here?

I followed this girl.

What was she like?

I don't want to talk about her.

Oh, yikes.

Did I just stumble

on a sore spot?

Say the word and I'll stop.

- Word.

- Got it.

No ex-girlfriend talk.

I mean, I'm over her, but I just

don't like to think about her.

I totally get it.

Douchebag ex-boyfriend

over here.

So what do you do when

you're not working?

I like to ride my

motorcycle, hike, read.

Occasionally I go to the lake.

Mmm. Cool.

Well, I'll make sure to

go shopping

for my Harley this weekend.

You do that.

Come on, let's get you back

to the shop

before I start boring you

with why you should

get an Indian

instead of a Harley.

Oof. Mechanic talk.

Sounds kinky.

Sex appeal isn't created

in a fancy gym

with weights and treadmills.

It's born in powerful,

grungy garages

where men, real f*cking men

work with their hands.

Where they get so dirty,

they have to use

special manly soap

to clean themselves up.

You can't find that sh*t

at Bath & Body Shop.

This is pure f*cking

testosterone.

Billionaire romance is out.

Mechanic romance is in.

So very in.

Another week of work down.

You look hyper focused.

Yeah. I, um...

I got a new book idea today.

Any big plans for the weekend?

My buddy and I might go to

the Golden Gate Park tomorrow.

We try to camp and hit

this great hiking

trail there every summer.

Sounds fun.

Super masculine.

What about you?

Oh, I will probably

do some more writing.

Sounds exciting.

Oh, it is.

Well, you have a good weekend.

I have no idea why I just

kissed you on the cheek.

That was really inappropriate.

No worries here.

Endless dirty thoughts live

rent free in my mind.

I swear I'm usually

a lot smoother than this.

Don't worry.

Your book boyfriend status

is still very much secure.

See you Monday, Mercedes.

See you at the coffee machine.

- Cheers, buddy.

- Cheers.

What are you waiting for, bro?

She tells you she has dirty

thoughts and you don't think,

"Yeah, I'm gonna tap that?"

No, she's too cool

for a random hookup.

Then I'd have to see her every

day in the comfort center.

It would be awkward.

Wait, you just don't go in there

anymore after you bang her.

Boom, problem solved.

- Two.

- I like seeing her.

Oh, my gosh.

Thank you.

Is that that same redhead?

Yeah.

Ooh.

I'll visit you in jail.

What?

Yeah, when you get arrested

for k*lling that guy,

I will visit you in jail.

Dude, I thought you were

just friends with this girl.

I am.

Then f*cking cool it, bro.

- Hey, Miles.

- Hey, Mercedes.

Fancy seeing you here.

I thought you were

going camping.

I thought you were writing.

Girl needs a break sometimes.

I'll find a

coffee shop tomorrow.

This is my buddy, Sam.

Hey, nice to meet you.

- Hi.

- Mercedes.

Right. Mercedes.

Well, I will...

Can I buy you a drink?

Drink sounds good.

Here, take my spot.

I'm gonna go say hi to a friend.

He's the DJ tonight.

Thanks.

- Nice to meet you.

- Yeah, you too.

What's your poison?

- Miles.

- Mercedes.

Why haven't you asked me

to hang out again

since we had pizza together?

Tire Depot seems safer.

Safer?

Meaning that I won't

run into you

and break my computer again?

Something like that.

So what are your plans

really tonight?

You're just hanging

out with Sam,

or are you guys on the hunt?

On the hunt?

For tail.

A one night stand that gets

really awkward in the morning

because she wants to

make you pancakes,

but you would rather

chew your arm off

and sneak out before

she wakes up.

Something like that.

I could tell that about you.

How?

It's my business.

So, what's your type?

Draws your eye, what are

we working with here?

I don't know.

Brunettes, I guess.

My ex was a blonde.

No more blondes.

Brunettes it is.

Let's see.

Not my friend Lindsay.

She already dated my friend Dean

and it was so awkward

for months after.

What about her?

No, I try to avoid packs.

There's always one friend

who cock blocks,

one friend who tries

to steal the guy

and one friend who

slut-shames the other two.

Man, girls can be mean.

You're telling me.

What about you?

Why aren't you on the hunt?

You said you're

over your ex, right?

Oh, I totally am.

He is vile.

And your friend Dean

isn't a prospect?

No way.

He is my neighbor and

he reminds me of my brother.

Uh-huh.

You know what?

You're right, Miles.

I should totally find

a random hookup tonight.

Well, I never said

anything about random.

Well, you're doing it,

so why can't I?

You don't seem like

the random type.

Well, maybe I should be.

Can I tell you a secret, Miles?

You can tell me

anything, Mercedes.

My writing makes me horny.

I'm sorry, what?

I'm serious.

I have a sex toy that works

really fast and really well,

but sometimes I just miss

the heat of a man, you know?

Not really.

Fine, the heat of a woman.

You know what I'm talking about?

The heat.

You might have to elaborate

with great detail.

You asked for it.

The heat of a woman is so

much more than temperature.

It's her soft, sensual curves,

the way that your fingers dig

into the meat of her thighs

when she's wrapped around you.

The delicate little bumps

on her ribcage

when she's throwing her head

back in pleasure.

Tight little nipples,

and pillows of creamy softness.

The fact that you could fold

your body around her

and envelop her almost entirely

and still want more.

That kind of heat.

You totally write erotica.

Damn it.

I didn't want you to know.

Why not?

What's the big secret?

Because it'll change the way

that you look at me.

How so?

You'll either think that

I'm some kind of sex freak,

or you'll be embarrassed

by what I do

and not want to tell anyone.

Are you joking?

Well, your buddy doesn't count.

He's probably a hornball.

I mean anyone that

is important to you.

It's a big reason why my ex

and I broke up.

He asked me to lie to his family

about what I did for a living.

- What a fucker.

- Yes.

But I write some

really kinky sh*t.

It's not exactly easy to

tell your grandma about.

I would tell my

grandma about you.

- You would not.

- I f*cking would.

Grandmas hate me.

My grandma hates me.

She's really religious, and

every time that I come home,

she tries to arrange for a

meeting with me and her priest.

She thinks that

I need an intervention

or an exorcism or something.

I'm sorry, that's not funny.

It's kind of funny.

Come with me.

- Where are we going?

- Calling my grandma.

No, Miles.

Are you insane?

- It's after midnight.

- She loves me. I'm her favorite.

Okay, okay.

We'll call my sister.

Miles, what are you doing?

Too late.

Hello.

Meg? I want to ask

you a question.

Why is it so loud?

Miles, how is it possible

for you to cock-block me

from 500 miles away?

Big brother intuition.

Just ask your question.

Okay, so I met this girl.

She's super f*cking hot.

Gross, Miles.

Sorry, okay.

So she writes sexy books,

like that's her job.

Dirty kinky sh*t, I think.

And she was saying that

grandmothers hated her,

and I said our grandma

would be totally into it.

True or false?

Duh, Grams is a freak.

Totally true.

So, who is this girl?

I want to read her stuff.

I'll find out.

But I'll call you back, Meg.

Don't f*ck that dude tonight.

What happened?

What did I say?

Mercedes, what are we doing?

I don't know,

I just kissed you, I guess.

Yes, you did.

And as hot as that was,

we have to stop.

Right, we're in public.

I like you Mercedes,

but I'm not in the position

to like someone right now.

Wait, what?

After everything that you

just said with your sister?

Got it.

Well, I'm sorry to put you

through such a

difficult situation.

Mercedes, wait.

I don't want things to be weird.

Well, you shouldn't

have flirted with me then.

See you around, Miles.

Why are you here?

Oh my God, what is

that horrible smell?

It's nothing.

Wait, wait, is that

a tire scented candle?

No.

Give it to me!

Stop it, you're going to make

me spill wax on my floor!

Let go so I can see

what you're hiding.

- No!

- Kate!

- No!

- Hello.

Don't stop on my account.

Oh my God, burnt rubber

scented soy candle.

I can't believe this is a thing.

Jesus, H, you got it bad, Kate.

I know!

Can't write a damn word,

and all I want to do is

go back to Tire Depot.

Then go.

So you kissed him and

he turned you down, big deal.

What, are you in

the seventh grade?

Go back to the Tire Depot.

She has a point, Kate.

It'll be awkward for

a day, three tops.

He'll probably stay in

the garage and ignore you.

You're right.

My house smells

like sh*t now, too.

Fine. I'll go back.

But only because burnt rubber

is not the same as new rubber.

We're rotating and

balancing tires.

But the rattling sound

that you were hearing

is, unfortunately...

How's the book coming?

Coming along.

This is the point in the story

where I rip the couple apart

and ruin everything they thought

they knew about each other.

Ouch.

Can't they just be happy?

What's dramatic about happy?

My readers like the pain,

the t*rture.

Makes the makeup sex

that much better.

You know, my sister texted me.

She asked for your full author

name so she could look you up.

Really?

I warned you.

We are a family full of readers.

You're gonna laugh.

I was drunk when

I came up with it.

My full pen name is

Mercedes Lee Loveletter.

What's your real last name?

It's Smith.

Also, I write a lot of BDSM.

So does this mean

we don't have to be awkward?

Yeah, friends.

Good.

Because as a friend,

I was wondering

if you might be able to help me

with some research

for my next book.

What did you have in mind?

You're gonna throw

your leg over,

but don't let your ankles

touch this area here.

Got it?

It'll make me feel better

if you wear it.

It'll protect you a little.

Okay, get on.

Okay, are you ready?

Ready.

Whoo!

Ah!

God, that was incredible.

You weren't scared?

No.

Was I supposed to be?

My ex hated this thing.

Your ex is a fool.

I mean, I understand that

motorcycles are dangerous,

but the danger is

what makes it exciting.

You took the words

right out of my mouth.

Unfortunately, my ex liked

a different kind of danger.

Do you want to tell me

what you mean by that,

or do you want

to say "word" again?

My ex loved

the cheating kind of danger.

Yikes.

It wasn't just one guy.

That's the hardest part.

How you can bald-faced lie

to someone you care about?

That's not the fun kind

of danger for me.

Not at all.

I'm so sorry.

It's fine.

I blame myself for not

walking away sooner.

She made me a jealous head case

with baggage for days.

Yeah.

Jealousy is the worst.

Although, I will tell you,

from a writer's standpoint,

readers love a possessive man.

Is that right?

So I should be thanking my ex

for making me

a possessive assh*le?

God, no.

She sounds like too

much of an assh*le

to get any credit for

the man you are today.

Well, your ex sounded

like an assh*le, too.

I still can't believe he made

you lie about your job

- to his family.

- Right?

Why did we ever date them?

I ask myself that all the time.

I guess you could say that if

we didn't go through all that,

then we might not be here

enjoying this awesome view.

You're missing something

really beautiful.

No, I'm not.

I can't figure you out, Miles.

I can't figure me out either.

How's it going?

No way.

You just finished?

I just finished.

Congratulations, Mercedes.

Couldn't have done it

without you, Miles.

We should celebrate.

Buy you a drink?

Actually, I'm having a

little "The End" party

at my house on Friday.

- Want to come by?

- I'd love to.

Great.

Don't forget to call me

Mercedes tonight.

- Mercedes!

- Woo!

See! Hi, everyone!

Woo!

Mercedes is doing a keg stand

to celebrate finishing her book.

What? No way!

Mercedes is not doing

a keg stand

because you made me

buy that shitty IPA.

Mercedes likes light beer

and complimentary coffee

and writing sex books!

Yeah!

And hard and fast wall sex!

Yeah!

And a formal scene where a

guy takes off a girl's panties

and fingers them in his

tuxedo pocket all night long.

That was really specific,

but yeah!

Miles!

I'm going to go get a drink.

Uh, I'm going

to follow that guy.

I'm Lindsay.

Best friend and neighbor.

There's my a Tiki bar

over there.

Can I get you

something to drink?

I'm Miles. Thanks.

I'm good for now.

Okay.

I'm going to follow those guys.

Bye.

Can we go somewhere and talk?

Sure.

You have a roommate?

Kind of.

So it's a guy?

Yes.

Figures.

It's not that Dean guy, right?

You said he's your neighbor?

He is my neighbor.

It's not Dean.

Then who is it?

No one.

I'm sorry.

I should just go.

My roommate is gay.

Seriously?

And he's out of town

for the summer, so...

Why are you acting like this?

I thought you only wanted

to be friends.

It's a lot harder than

I thought it would be.

What can I do to help?

I'm overprotective.

I'm overbearing, arrogant.

Okay.

Pretty much everything

I do is in the extreme.

I try not to be jealous, I do.

- She...

- I'm not her.

I know you're not her.

I just really need you to not

do things to make me jealous.

Why?

Because it will make me

want to f*ck you

so you don't ever want to look

at another guy again.

Prove it.

I hope you know

what you're asking for, Red.

You're not getting these back.

Jesus f*ck, how are you real?

Mmm...

Oh...

You're a dirty girl, Mercedes.

Yes.

I like your rough

hands on my body.

Let's see how we look together.

Talk dirty to me like

you did the other night.

I love when you put your

finger in my mouth like that.

Oh, God.

Mercedes...

Shirt thief.

I've been looking for

this shirt for ten minutes.

Are you in a pancake mood,

or a cut your arm off

and run mood?

I could eat.

Go sit down.

I feel like I need to tell you

that I didn't come here

last night to do that.

Okay.

I mean, don't get me wrong,

it was really good.

f*cking great, actually.

It was, wasn't it?

But, I just want you to know

that wasn't my plan.

Is this the part

where you tell me

that you're not in a position

to like someone again?

Maybe.

That's fine.

It is?

This is no big deal, Miles.

We had sex.

You didn't ask me to go steady.

I'm not getting this twisted up.

So, you're good with this...

just being casual?

Yeah.

I'm a workaholic, so

it's not like I have time

to devote to a boyfriend.

Though, I might need your

help with some book research.

Book research?

I thought you were done.

Oh, how little you

know about writing.

Tire Depot was the easy stuff.

I want help with

the bedroom stuff.

You write erotic novels.

What more could

you need to know?

Okay, so for my new book,

I want to write from

a dual point of view.

So one chapter will be

in the female voice,

and the next chapter will

be in the male voice,

and I'll alternate

between the two.

I know what dual point

of view is, Mercedes.

Okay, sorry.

So, I'm gonna need your help

getting into the mind of a man.

Should we start now?

I'd hate to see

your education suffer.

Actually, since we're

sticking with

this whole friends

with benefits thing,

I was wondering

if you could help me

with a little project first.

Like a naked kind of project?

I mean, you can be naked

if you want to,

but it might not be safe.

Could you help me

move my roommate's sh*t

downstairs and into

a moving pod?

Absolutely.

Friends have to earn

their benefits sometimes.

Thanks.

Oh my God, Hannah.

I have entered into a casual

friends with benefits situation

with a mechanic from Tire Depot

who thinks my name is Mercedes.

Wait, this is actually

happening to you,

like in real life?

Yes!

And I like him way

more than just a friend,

so I'm in crisis mode.

What do I do?

Besides bone him

every chance you get?

Yeah, I mean, my alter ego's

taking the reins here.

I fully understand.

And I've kind of been

avoiding him this week

to sort of play cool so that he

doesn't know that I like him.

Which you do?

Yes, but I don't

want him to know that.

I mean, is this relationship

worth me telling him

my real name, or is it just sex?

Are you done?

I could use some

sage advice here.

Listen to me.

Here's what you're gonna do.

You are gonna go camping.

- Camping?

- Camping.

Why?

Kate, outdoorsy guys

love that sh*t.

Just tell them it's for book

research and you need his help.

Ooh, that's good, because

I actually use that excuse.

Perfect.

You're going to be adorable

and fumbling

and not know how

to cast a fishing pole,

and he's going to realize

how much fun it is

to go camping and

get to f*ck in a tent.

By the end of the trip,

you'll know

if you need to fish or cut bait.

Hmm.

You should be a writer.

- Mmm.

- Hannah, this is good.

You're a genius.

I'm going camping.

Just, um, let me know where

to have the pizza delivered to.

Ha-ha, beesh.

Hey, Kate.

You here for a cronut?

You know it.

I'm going to be a hot minute

before the new batch is ready,

but go ahead and take a number

and we'll bring them right out.

I'll take two

and a cup of coffee.

You got it.

My d*ck misses you.

Your d*ck is insatiable.

- Are you dry-humping me?

- Uh-huh.

Tell me what you're thinking.

I want you naked

and in a bed now.

How are the words flowing?

Not as good as the other night.

You are soaking wet.

Oh, my God.

You're at the bakery?

I could think of something

else I'd rather be eating.

Let me take care of you.

OMG, you're filthy.

Says the smut writer.

Feeling inspired?

5,000 words in three hours.

That's Tire Depot

magic right there.

Maybe it's Miles Hudson magic.

Oh, Jesus!

Say "hi," Dean.

I was literally standing there

for almost five minutes.

I'm reading my texts.

So, what is so important

that you had to see me?

I don't know what you mean.

We do this every week.

Yeah.

But you've never texted me

three times the day of

to make sure that I was coming.

I take cronuts very seriously.

Dean.

I saw his truck outside your

place a couple nights ago.

Whose truck?

Miles.

Who else?

How do you know it

was his truck?

Because I don't know any

other guys in Boulder

who would drive a

beastly vehicle like that.

Oh my God, you're such a snob.

So, he spent the night?

What did you, come back and

check in the morning?

Maybe.

Stop worrying.

We're just fooling around.

It's nothing serious.

See, that is exactly

what I'm worried about.

The guy rejected

you once already.

Thank you for reminding me.

Any guy that jerks you around

like that is an idiot.

He's not an idiot.

He's a mechanic at a Tire Depot.

How bright can he be?

Are you kidding me?

Hey, just calm down.

Coming from a

high school dropout.

I got my GED.

And I am self-educated.

In what?

Being an ass hat?

I surround myself with

people who are inclusive

and non-judgmental because

I have a weird job.

I don't want judgy friends

in my corner

because that would make

me a hypocrite.

And Miles is so encouraging

about what I do.

More encouraging than

you have ever been.

And he's not dumb at all.

He's actually really

f*cking insightful.

And you might see that

if you quit

looking down your

nose at people.

Don't go, Kate.

No, I'm sorry.

But if you're going

to start acting like this,

then I don't see how we

can continue to be friends.

Kate...

I like you.

Yeah, well, I liked you, too,

until you started acting

like a douche nozzle.

No.

I mean, I really like you.

- And I...

- sh*t.

I don't think it's something

I can ignore anymore.

Dean...

How long?

A couple years.

But I was with Lindsay

and you were with that

douchebag Dryston.

Why didn't you tell me?

I didn't want to be a rebound.

You're hooking up with a

guy who still

doesn't even know

your real name.

How do you think

that's going to end?

He wants it casual,

but I want the whole thing.

The good, the bad, all of it.

I'm sorry, Dean.

But I just don't

feel the same way.

But you are one of

my best friends

and I don't want to change that.

I need you to go.

But why?

We all have our

own little places

and this is my Tire Depot.

Please.

I'm sorry, Dean.

Hey.

What's that?

A carburetor.

What does it do?

Um, kind of a lot.

Do you really want to know?

Yes.

Well, it mixes the proper

ratio of gas and air

inside of an engine

for combustion to occur.

Nowadays, most cars have

fuel injectors,

but the classics still

run on these puppies.

Interesting.

It's kind of like how a

candle needs oxygen to burn.

Combustion of an engine

can't take place

without the air

the carburetor brings in.

Kind of like how...

an orgasm can't be

achieved without friction.

Sure.

You could draw that parallel.

I would like to draw

that parallel soon.

Did you have something in mind?

Watch your step up here.

Woop!

Smells so good.

Miles, this is perfect.

I didn't know girls could

be this excited about camping.

Well, don't judge a book

by its cover, mister.

Look, there's a path that

leads right to the water.

Perfect.

Come on.

We got work to do.

Got to set up camp.

This looks brand new.

Yeah. I just do

a sleeping bag, usually.

So you bought this for me?

It's not only for you.

This will save

my knees big time.

You're such a horny bastard.

Says the smut writer.

Mm-hmm.

Tickle, tickle, tickle!

Seriously?

Seriously.

Take your shorts off.

I figured you were thirsty.

We've earned these.

Yeah, camping is hard.

Mountain air suits you.

I'm just in a good mood.

It's amazing how much nicer

life is with no drama.

Do you ever talk to your ex?

Not a word, and that's good.

You never told me how you found

out she was cheating on you.

She got pregnant.

With some rich old guy's kid.

We were on a break at the time.

Wow.

The layers.

Do you think that

she got pregnant on purpose?

No.

Yes?

I don't know.

Probably.

I have to wonder what

kind of a fuckwit I was

to not really realize.

She was always money obsessed.

Thought being a mechanic

was too blue-collar.

Wanted me to make more money.

You seem like you're doing

just fine to me.

See, thank you.

I'm just pissed off I wasted

the best years of

my life with her.

Who said they were

the best years?

Look around you, Miles.

It's a pretty beautiful day.

You want for nothing.

That is an incredible

quality in a person.

And, I mean, look at you.

You're smoking hot.

You got a great job.

House, friends.

Really sexy f*ck buddy.

Thank you.

So don't sweat the past.

Focus on the now.

Seriously, right now,

my bobber disappeared

several minutes ago,

and I don't know what to do.

sh*t, you gotta bite.

Are you kidding me?

I caught a bicycle tire.

What the hell, Colorado?

Way to keep it classy.

My hands hurt.

Surely you could see

the irony in this.

Babe, you caught a tire.

This is kismet.

Truth or dare?

Truth.

Do you ever get horny in

the garage at Tire Depot?

What?

You're working on

a customer's car

and your hands are

getting really dirty

and you're just really...

digging in there.

I'm afraid not.

Damn.

But classic car work

on the other hand,

if I'm working on one of those

and an old car that hasn't

run in f*cking decades

and suddenly roars to life,

then hell yes.

Rock solid.

Ha. I knew it.

Perverts attract perverts.

Okay.

Truth or dare?

Dare.

Ooh, somebody has secrets.

Shut up.

Skinny dip in the lake.

The lake that birthed

my blessed tire? No way.

Who knows what the hell

else is in that thing?

It's fine.

I knew you wouldn't do it.

All talk and no action.

A-hem.

Need I remind you who has been

sneaking into Tire Depot

for weeks now?

You call that dangerous?

I am consuming

complimentary beverages

without service miles.

That is just as bad as thieving.

Such a cold hard criminal.

Fine, I'll do it.

But you have to do it with me.

And why would I do that?

Because I'll be naked.

Come on, now.

We made it this far.

Is that gonna hurt when

you jump in the water?

Not if you hold it.

Come on!

Cannonball!

Whoo-hoo!

Mercedes?

Do you feel like...

Do you feel that?

Feel what?

Oh, my God, that's freezing!

Oh...

Good morning.

Morning.

You've been busy this morning.

Yeah, it's a muddy mess,

so I figured we should

head back early.

Oh, okay.

What can I do to help?

I forgot the pancake mix.

Don't read into that.

Well, thanks for the help

with the research.

Anytime.

You okay?

I'm just tired.

Shouldn't have gotten

the mattress pad.

Mm-Hmm.

Looks like you got company.

I'll see you later, Mercedes.

Okay. Bye.

Hi, Dean.

Hey, Kate.

Want to come in for some coffee?

Is it complimentary?

For people who

aren't assholes, it is.

Nothing to say about that

loud muffler on Miles's truck?

I'm surprised you know

what a muffler is.

I'm learning.

I am, too.

I'm really sorry, Kate.

Come on in, then.

Did you spend the night

at Miles's house last night?

Are you really asking that?

I'm just making

small talk, Kate. I promise.

No judgment.

We were camping.

- Camping?

- It was for book research.

And it was really fun.

Writing something different?

Trying to.

Inspiration must be flowing.

It has its moments.

And Miles is the guy that

brings this out in you.

He's certainly

not hurting things.

So different from me.

Dean, look.

I never had a clue that

you had feelings for me.

If I had, I would have done

so many things differently.

Like what?

I don't know.

Maybe come over less often.

I'm sorry if I led you

to believe otherwise.

No, no.

You were just being yourself.

It's pretty magnetic.

Weird to get a compliment from

someone you just rejected.

I think that if you really like

him, you need to come clean.

Start by telling him

your real name,

and end with the fact that you

still live with your ex, Kate.

The longer you wait,

the harder it'll be.

But I moved his stuff out,

at least.

If he really cares,

he'll forgive you.

I'm telling you this

as your friend.

So we're still friends?

Only if I can still

wear my fancy pants.

Done.

We've been here five minutes.

How much longer do you need?

It's a f*cking tire.

How long can it take?

Just checking the warranty, sir.

If for some reason

your tire isn't repairable,

we'd have to...

Whoa, whoa, why can't

my tire be repaired?

Well, if there's a

puncture in the sidewall,

those aren't fixable,

unfortunately,

so we'd have to go in...

What a rip-off!

Who's a manager?

I want to talk to

them right now.

Bro, who's that chick?

She's a customer service rep.

Perfect.

We'll take her.

I'm afraid you

don't get to pick.

Yeah, I think we could

if we wanted to.

Hey, this isn't ordering a girl

off the f*cking Internet, moron.

Do you want your

f*cking tire fixed or not?

Buddy...

Manager. Now.

Just go back to the shop.

I'll let my uncle deal

with these guys, okay?

Yeah, why don't you to

go back to the shop

and let your boy

talk to this out.

What kind of business

are you running?

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

What'd that licorice

ever do to you?

Nothing.

What's going on with you?

You look ready to rip

someone's head off.

Nice dress.

You like it?

So long as you don't

twirl in it.

What is wrong with you?

Nothing.

Just some entitled customers

getting on my nerves.

Do me a favor and don't go into

the customer comfort

center today, okay?

Sure.

Would me going over to

yours tonight cheer you up?

Tonight?

After work maybe?

I want to see your house,

specifically your garage.

You know, research.

Get our hands dirty.

Fine.

Wow.

Moody's kind of hot on you.

Oh my God, Miles.

This is stunning.

1965 Ford pickup.

Got the paint done last month,

interior last week.

All she needs now

is a new carburetor.

For combustion.

You remember that?

Duh.

The orgasm of the engine.

Well, it might take a while.

I can't find the right

one to save my life.

They're pretty rare

and expensive.

You said it was your grandpa's?

Looks like it belongs

in a Pixar film.

Yeah.

He passed away two years ago.

I'm so sorry to hear that.

He was 77, so

he had a solid run.

Thought he was

gonna live forever.

Hey, he always kept little

candies in the glove box.

You want one?

Uh, no. No.

If those were your grandpa's,

it should stay where they are.

I wish I had it running already.

It was sort of a dying

promise I made to him.

Joss always got pissed at me

when I worked on this truck.

I feel bad I haven't

finished it yet.

Miles.

Look at this thing.

It's art.

And you've already

done so much to it.

He would've loved you.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah.

You're real.

You don't put on

a show for people.

Everything you say is

exactly what you are.

He would've loved

your name, too.

Mercedes?

Hot cars.

Miles.

Are you sure? Here?

You and classic cars?

Nothing I want more.

No book research.

No thinking.

Just us.

Honey, I'm home.

Oh, sh*t.

Dryston.

Hi, Katie.

Give us a hug.

Best entrepreneurs in

the state of Colorado.

That's right, man.

Dude

Are you even listening to me?

Yeah, sorry.

Your uncle wants

to you buy him out.

That's f*cking awesome.

It's awesome for both of us.

I want you by my side.

Maybe as manager or

f*cking parts director.

Maybe you can even

open that vintage car garage

under the Tire Depot umbrella.

Work on classic cars more often.

Put your granddad's truck

in our showroom.

Damn!

We'd have everything under

one roof:

Tires, auto repair,

antique car restorations.

I get hard just

thinking about it.

I guess that wouldn't suck.

Come on, man.

I thought this would

cheer you up.

It is.

It does.

I'm happy for you.

It's just Mercedes hasn't

texted me back in days,

and that's unlike her.

You're pining after

your f*ck buddy?

She's not a f*ck buddy.

Watch how you f*cking

speak about her.

I'm not joking.

Okay.

But don't let that girl

get in your head

and force you to miss out

on a great opportunity.

Come on.

Let's go celebrate.

Mmm, mm.

Dryston is back.

Shut up.

What did you say?

I told him that his stuff

is in storage.

I was changing the locks.

I'll pay him the deposit

and that I'm not moving.

Good for you.

You finally got Dryston

out of your life for good,

and it was about damn time.

Now I just have to come

clean to Miles about my name.

I've been avoiding him until

this Dryston stuff got sorted.

Real life is so much more

complicated than fiction.

I just want a real life romance.

You got this.

I've got nothing except

a full bladder.

I'm going to go pee

and get us refills.

Yes, please.

God damn, Katie.

Did you look this good

when I left?

Did you follow me here?

I didn't have to.

It's your favorite spot.

Oh, this is so typical.

What?

You come crawling into town

and think that you can

get whatever you want.

What?

I don't remember your

tits looking this good.

I need a refresher.

Don't be a pig, Dryston.

Don't be a bitch, Katie.

Ed, what's up, bro?

Dude, long time, no see.

How you been?

Yeah?

Miles, what are you doing here?

Here with my buddy.

What about you?

Oh. I'm here with Kate.

What are the odds?

Who's Kate?

I said your stuff is

in storage, Dryston.

You can be a real bitch.

You know that?

What the f*ck did

you just call her?

- Excuse you?

- Excuse you.

I won't ask again.

This conversation has nothing

to do with you, wrench head.

Dryston.

You were the assh*le at

Tire Depot the other day.

You know this fuckwit, Mercedes?

You think her name is Mercedes?

I was going to tell

you everything.

Tell me what?

Who the f*ck is this guy?

He's no one.

No, no, I just live with you.

This is your gay roommate?

I didn't f*ck her

like I was gay.

Miles, please let me explain.

Ooh!

Yeah, Katie,

why don't you explain?

Why is he calling you Katie?

Because that's her

real name, moron.

Mercedes is basically

the hooker name

she made up to write those

stupid, trashy books.

Call her a f*cking name again

and you will regret it.

Miles, don't.

No, no. You can

have the trashy c**t.

She's not suitable

for mixed company anyway.

Oh!

Miles, I can explain.

Don't talk to me.

Miles, I need to explain.

What, Mercedes?

Or is it Katie?

It's Kate.

Explain why I punched a guy

in the face

for a girl whose name

I don't even know.

I was going to tell you.

After I fell in love with you?

I'm still

the same person, Miles.

I am just as much Mercedes

as I am Kate.

Then why f*cking lie about it?

I don't know.

Because of my ex,

I got used to hiding

that part of myself.

But with you, I've never

had to, not once.

Kate Smith is who I am

when I'm not

telling people what I do.

And what happened

with your sister,

that's something that's

never happened to me before.

You lied to me.

Even when you knew

about my past.

You had plenty of chances

to open up.

Do you know what a f*cking idiot

I feel like

for calling you

Mercedes all this time?

Every time we had sex...

I'm a joke to you.

You are not a joke.

I am.

I'm sorry.

I got carried away.

I liked you so much.

I've always liked you as more

than friends with benefits.

And I thought that I could

be this cool,

casual Mercedes with

no strings attached,

but the truth is that I am just

plain old, boring Kate Smith,

who is totally falling

for you, Miles Hudson.

How can I even trust you?

You're just as bad as my ex.

I'm out, Kate, Mercedes,

whoever you are.

You can keep your drama,

your lies,

keep living your life as your

author name, your real name,

with your boyfriend,

your ex-gay boyfriend.

This is officially

the end of our story.

It's been two weeks.

Oh, stop.

He was upset.

You made him feel like a fool.

He'll get over it.

He's not returning

any of my calls.

That's because you haven't

made your grand gesture yet.

Grand gesture?

Mm-hmm.

This is really good, Dean.

- Oh, thank you.

- What grand gesture?

Kate, you write this stuff.

Now you have to live it.

You need to make a grand gesture

that shows your hero

that you care deeply.

While you know that

you f*cked up royally,

you still know him.

You know him and care about him,

and the grandness of

this gesture proves it.

Wow, that was a mouthful.

She's right, Kate.

He cares about you,

but it's got to be big.

Any ideas?

Yeah, turn here.

Turn here.

There's no turn.

The map is wrong.

We lost service like

10 minutes ago.

Ugh!

It's literally on 14 percent.

Do we have a charger?

You've got to drive!

Yes!

That's it, right there.

Right there.

We'll be right here.

You got this.

Mom's worried about you.

What?

You haven't emailed

in two weeks.

You know you do it

like clockwork.

Why are you calling so early?

Is Joss there?

No.

Why would you think that?

I don't know.

Mom and I thought you might

have gotten back together

and didn't want to tell us.

It's not Joss.

I've been seeing

that author girl.

Oh, man. I didn't realize

you were seeing her.

I'm not.

I mean, I was,

but it's over now.

Why?

Because she lied to me

about some sh*t.

And I'm not bringing that

noise back into my life.

Been there, done that.

Don't think that every

girl that isn't perfect

is like Jocelyn.

Look, I don't know this girl,

but I do know you.

And you sounded so

crazy happy that night

you called me to talk about her.

I was.

Dude, I called Mom

the very next day

to tell her about how

different you sounded.

We were excited.

Seriously?

Yeah, Joss was the worst.

You were moody for years.

This girl makes you happy,

true or false?

True.

Then sometimes a little noise

in your life is a good thing.

When did you get

so f*cking insightful?

When I started

waking up earlier.

Grand gesture.

This can't be from your Caddy.

It's not.

It's the carburetor

that Miles needs

to get his grandpa's

truck running.

Could you give it to him but not

tell him it's from me, please?

Are you kidding me?

This thing cost

a shitload of money.

Where'd you find it?

Scottish footballer named Mack

who lives in a creepy house

in the mountains.

What?

Anyway, why don't you

give it to him yourself?

Because I don't want

him back like that.

- Kate.

- Yeah?

You know, Miles paid my

uncle every single week

you were here, right?

He what?

My uncle owns this place.

And Miles worked out

a deal with him

to look the other way

when you came in all the time.

Thought I was flying

under the radar.

Eh, nah.

Definitely not.

Total book boyfriend moment.

What?

Nothing.

Where's Miles?

Outside stacking tires.

Go put him out of his misery.

Are you sure?

Yes, please,

for the love of God, go.

What are you doing here?

Do you know what this is?

Looks like a carburetor.

Do you know for

what kind of vehicle?

I can't tell from here.

It's a 1965 Ford F100.

Where did you get it?

It's kind of a long, crazy story

that included a rattlesnake.

But I'm hoping

it has a great ending.

What kind of ending?

The kind where you let me

apologize for lying.

I'm not your ex, Miles.

I am Kate Smith.

From Longmont, Colorado.

Whose ex technically

still lived with her

until she changed

the locks on him.

Who is not some brave,

erotic romance author

who's cool with kink

and casual relationships

and using a mechanic

for book research.

I am just a girl...

who's been falling

in love with a guy

who works at Tire Depot

who would really just like

to go home with him

and take a frickin' shower.

I like your ending so much

better than mine.

Have I just been upgraded

from book boyfriend

to real boyfriend?

Yes.

And I can firmly say

it was worth the wait, Miles.

All right.

Here you go.

Thank you, thank you.

- For you.

- Yes!

Oh, I love it.

Kate, I hate this picture.

Do you like it?

I love it.