The Hookup Mix-up

Perry

“Are you Tyson Langley’s long-lost brother?” a girl I don’t recognize asks as she leans over the counter at Shenanigans, the bar where I work, which is close to the Franklin University campus. Her ample cleavage is on display. I can’t lie and pretend I don’t notice, but my gaze doesn’t linger. Not because I don’t like breasts, because I do. A lot. They’re actually one of my favorite things, but at the same time, I try to respect women. Being raised by a single mom who dealt with a lot of asshole men drove that lesson home for me at a very young age. It’s a wonder I’m attracted to men too, because I’ve seen a lot of dickheads, but I’m as equally down to bone men as I am women.

“Nice, huh?” she asks, before I can answer her other question, so maybe she wants me to look? I still don’t because I’m not sure, and also, I’m still a little annoyed at her first query. “You are, right? Tyson’s brother?”

If I got a dollar every time someone asked me that…well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be struggling to make ends meet. Southern California is crazy expensive, and a college beach town like San Luco? Think expensive and then double it, and you’ll be close. “I am,” I reply, trying not to let my frustration show.