Maggie - No one’s type
I’m not sure what happened or what I did, but it suddenly seemed like everyone in the bar was giving me the cold shoulder.
It started right after someone whispered in Chase’s ear. He tried to brush the guy off, but then the guy whispered something else that made him take his hands off me.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he gave me a forced smile and drained the rest of his beer. “Just need a new drink. You good?”
I was still nursing my same vodka sprite. “I’m good.”
He gave me another smile before dipping back to the bar… and then he just never came back. And now he was talking to another girl group.
Maybe I said something weird? Maybe I looked desperate? I couldn't change my face though… And let’s face it, I was kind of desperate.
I drained the rest of my drink and nodded at Kelly that I wanted to go to the bar again.
She made an excuse to the guy she was still talking to and we wandered up together.
“What’re you ladies drinking?” the new bartender asked with a boy-ish grin. He was cute, with his striped, loose button down shirt and mop of curly brown hair. His eyes didn’t even drift to me though, he was instantly locked in with Kelly. It was almost like he was making it a point to not even look at me.
She flipped her long hair over her shoulder and gave him a smile. “Two vodka sprites please.” She leaned over the bar and reached to straighten his name tag. He stared down at her wrist in amusement. “Brian.” She beamed up at him.
“And your name, cutie?” he asked with a grin.
“Kelly.”
“Comin right up, Kel,” he said with a wink.
As soon as he left, Kelly spun around to face me with flushed cheeks “I like this bar already, don’t you?”
“Mmhmm,” I answered, non-committedly, still wondering what I did to make Chase run away.
The two of us bopped silently to the music while waiting for our drinks.
When Brian returned with our vodka sprites, he gave one to her and said “on the house.” Without a glance in my direction, he slid my drink to me, almost spilling it on me in the process, then slapped a bill down next to it.
The two of them continued to flirt while I paid for my $18 drink.
As soon as he was gone again, Kelly pouted her bottom lip while stirring her lime into her small cocktail glass. “That was weird, wasn’t it? Usually they don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I swallowed down a misplaced feeling of having been snubbed. Because I wasn’t actually snubbed, right? He didn’t even look at me. So what if he paid for her drink and not mine?
“Usually they give both for free. I ordered both. I’m sorry. He made that kinda weird.” Her face scrunched up.
I couldn’t make eye-contact with her. I didn’t want to see the weird pity that was surely on her face that stupid Brian shoved between us.
I took a long pull of my drink, which was extra heavy on the vodka, light on sprite. “Nah, I think he just liked you, Kel,” I said with a wink, copying Brian the bartender. “You should go up by yourself and order the rest of the drinks tonight. C’mon,” I said, swallowing down another gulp, “let’s go find Mark.”
Seconds later, a familiar voice shouted, “Quinn! Kent! Get your booties over here!” Mark waved at us from a corner where he stood with a huge smile on his face, wearing a Kansas City jersey. From the looks of it, he’d already befriended a few guys also wearing his team’s attire.
Mark introduced us to the guys. But their gazes only briefly went to me, then they all drifted back to Kelly like she had a halo and spotlight shining down on her.
Maybe I had a resting bitch face and looked unfriendly? I tried to smile more, and I tried to break into the conversation, but not one of the guys even batted an eye at me. When they asked about her profession, I thought they’d turn and ask me too, but no such luck. They were solely focused on the blonde minx beside me, especially Mark– which I’d for sure have to tell her about at some point in the bathroom.
Hating the familiar left-out feeling and itching to distance myself from the situation, I quickly downed my drink and whispered to Kelly that I was heading back to the bar.
As I walked away, I couldn't help but wonder why not a single guy paid attention to me. They were making me feel completely invisible. Completely undesirable. And I got it– I wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but even if they didn’t like me, why completely ignore me? They weren’t even interested in friendly conversation?
A second later, a guy group that was most likely on a bachelor tip from the looks of it, barrelled in front of me, almost knocking me over in the process. Not a single guy looked back to apologize.
I straightened myself and caught sight of Ben in his corner. He watched the guy group with a scowl on his face. At least someone realized I was alive in this bar , I thought, feeling slightly dejected.
When I finally made my way up to the bar, I squeezed into an open space and waited for a bartender. The bar was a long oval shape, so people were sitting all around. I tried to make eye-contact with guys on the other side, but no one seemed to be in the flirty mood this evening… or maybe they all had a type, and it just wasn’t me.
Maybe I was no one’s type at all , I thought glumly, my heart sinking to the floor.
My drinks kept disappearing, and I enjoyed the tipsy, off-balanced feeling starting to take over. This night was bound to be a bust in the guy department, and I didn’t want to think about the stupid Tiktok I watched today that told me my eggs were drying up or that I currently had zero prospects. I just wanted to turn my brain off and stop ruminating on my single-ness.
Now that my brain was swimming with alcohol, I glared at curly-haired Brian while a female bartender helped me get my next fix.
I felt his presence behind me before he spoke.
“Slow down, Jinx,” the familiar sexy voice whispered in my ear, causing shivers to go spastic in my tipsy body… which then made me slightly depressed. Because sure, I was happy to feel attraction, I was happy to know I could still feel that way about a dude. But I didn’t want shivers from him. I wanted my body to have that reaction from literally any other guy in this bar.
“Or what?” I slightly slurred, slumping my elbows on the bar.
“Or you’ll make yourself sick,” he said with a sigh, trying to pry the drink from my cold fingers.
Rolling my eyes, I spun on my barstool to face him, making my drink slosh over the side a little and dampen the edge of my dress. I busied myself with swiping the wetness away and muttered, “Maybe then guys would notice me.”
He looked at me strangely. “Guys notice you.”
I snorted before taking another long pull. I squinted across the bar to see Kelly dragging a guy to the dance floor.
These guys were literally losing their minds over her. As I stared at them on the dance floor and then at the guys jealously watching them, a horrible theory popped into my tipsy mind. Maybe all the love songs that I loved so much were all a sham. Maybe all that art was created through situations like this, through fleeting moments of lust, not true connections. Maybe it was all fake. And that physically hurt. It hurt my heart to think that way.
But it couldn’t be fake. I felt butterflies, damnit. It had to be real.
It was just a sick twist of fate that the only butterflies I’d felt in a whole decade were for the one guy I had zero chance with. Ben didn’t want to be with me. The FBI was currently paying him to be with me, so it didn’t count. OhmyGod, they were paying him to be with me. That sounded so so bad.
I laid my forehead against the bar.
What did I expect? I was jinxed, after all.
A loud bang interrupted my thoughts, making me almost fall off my chair.
Ben moved so quickly it shocked me. Yanking the bottom of my chair closer, he caged me in with his arms. All I heard for a minute was his heavy breathing.
We both stayed completely still until a voice boomed in the air. “Sorry about that folks,” one of the guys on stage said into the mic. “Dropped some equipment, party on!” He gave a hearty laugh before the music resumed.
Ben’s nose flared as he slowly pulled away and cracked his neck.
“You good?” he asked, eyeing the stage with irritation.
“You’d…” I blinked up at him, my eyes round with surprise. “You’d actually take a bullet for me?”
His neck whipped around so that his intense gaze bore into me. “Yes, I’d–” He cut himself off and swallowed hard. “Yes. That’s literally the definition of my job, Maggie. I’m required to by the United States government,” he said in a robotic tone.
I rolled my eyes. Right . “So not just, like, for me then, only because you have to.”
He opened my mouth to speak, then hesitated before saying, “Don’t push your luck, Jinx.”
I snorted. “What luck? I don’t have any.”
“Maggie, get over here!” Kelly’s voice called out. I turned to the side to see her waving me to the dance floor. “You too, Mark!”
“I’m taking this,” Ben said, reaching for my drink again, but I pulled it away with a growl before clumsily sliding to my boots.
As I marched away, I heard his thick voice murmur, “I notice you.”
My breath caught in my chest. I spun back to face him, tipping too far forward and almost face planting in the process, but warm large hands were suddenly on my waist, steadying me.
“What did you say?” I demanded, squinting up at Ben’s scruffy face. I loved when he stood this close to me. He was so warm, like a walking blanket, and I had to fight the urge to lean into him.
His eyebrows popped up. “Jesus, you’re wasted.”
Frowning, I quickly slapped his hands away and stepped out of his grasp. “What did you say?” I repeated, my voice sounding practically strangled in my throat.
“Nothing?” he asked more than said.
I blinked at him. “But I thought…” Heat rushed to my face. I shook my head out and turned on my heel before I could make more of a fool of myself.
I needed to move far, far away from Ben Capretti. Because I think my brain just fabricated him talking to me. All those times he shot wary looks at me, like I was losing my mind? Maybe he was right. Maybe I was , in fact, going crazy.
The only problem was that I could’ve sworn he really said that aloud. I notice you . He said that. Didn’t he? So he was lying about saying it, which made him an annoying little gaslighter. Scratch that. Nothing about that man was little . But my brain was spinning with all the alcohol I consumed. Maybe he didn’t actually say it and I just wanted him to say it? I squeezed my eyes shut. What difference did it make anyway? Even if he did say it, he was probably just being sarcastic.
That was totally it. He was joking . Ha fucking ha. He was just restating that he had to notice me. I rolled my eyes. Men loved their stupid sarcasm, and I swear it went right over my head half the time making me feel like a total dummy.
As soon as I stepped on the edge of the dancefloor, Kelly grabbed my good wrist and pulled me into the fray, making me laugh.
I took a deep breath and let loose. I needed this night. I needed to feel young. Come Monday, I’d be the responsible adult in the room, but right now, I could enjoy this last little bit of wild freedom.
Donna Summer’s voice boomed over Kygo’s beats, and the strobe lights went wild as we all screamed the chorus of “Hot Stuff” to each other.
I totally didn’t need a guy to dance. I didn't need a guy to have a good time. I could enjoy the hell out of this moment all on my own.
Mark moonwalked across the sticky floor towards us, making both of us throw our heads back laughing.
I finally had friends to go out with, and that was enough.
It really wasn’t, my heart cried out. But it had to be.
When Kelly grabbed my hand to twirl me, I let her and I let go of any resentment I knew I’d been slightly harboring. It wasn’t her fault that she was everyone’s type. She was my friend. So what if she was a flirt? Good for her.
But deep down, I knew I’d lose my shit if she started turning that charm on with Ben again.
I danced a little more carefree, a little more wild, knowing his eyes were glued to me on the dance floor.
The rest of the guys, be damned. I tried, okay? So I couldn’t blame myself for giving into the temptation that was romanticizing Ben Capretti.
I looked at him across the bar and his eyes practically smoldered as I swayed my hips to the beat.
He shook his head at me, but I could tell he was struggling to tamper down a grin.
He has to keep his eyes on you, dummy, the last sober part of my brain argued.
Doesn’t mean I can’t like it , the alcohol argued back.