Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
TEDDIE
Blondie jumped back like he was on fire. Or I was.
He stepped away from me and faced his friends. I assumed that was what they were. They clearly knew each other.
Both men’s masks were similar to Blondie’s, but with shallower eye holes, allowing me to see their furious gazes.
The taller one was brown-eyed, with black hair and hands curled into fists. He looked from me to Blondie like he wanted to bore a hole right into his brain. Was he pissed off at Blondie for being alone with me? As far as I could tell, he wasn't angry at me, just…about me.
I supposed I could put it down to jealousy that he wasn't going to get laid himself. Which, of course, was his problem, not mine.
Also? I had the feeling I wasn't getting laid either.
"What do you pricks want?" Blondie crossed his arms over his chest, veins popping. Was he a body builder? That would explain why he watched what he ate and drank. Didn’t they have a tight dietary regime?
From this angle, I saw a scar winding its way across the back of his head, his hair lighter where it was. It disappeared under the collar of his shirt. How far down did it go? What happened to cause a scar like that?
"Making sure you're not making bad life choices.
" The last man sounded bored, rather than irritated.
His brown hair was neatly cut, but long enough to suggest it would curl if he let it grow out.
Veins also popped in his arms. I bet he had a muscular back too.
Not as muscular as Blondie, but cut enough to dig nails down and leave marks.
"Have I ever made a bad life choice?" Blondie asked.
The brown-haired guy barked a laugh. "Only every day of your fucking life."
"He's exaggerating," Blondie told me.
"We should go inside," the black-haired man snapped.
"Maybe I'm not done here yet," Blondie suggested. He didn't sound like he was putting up much of a fight. If anything, he sounded relieved.
If he didn't want to be with me, why had he brought me out here? Was I nothing more than a potential bad life choice? That was fucked up. Not to mention rude. Was I perfect? Hell no, but I didn’t want to be a mistake.
"Looks like you're fucking done to me," the black-haired man retorted. His brown-eyed gaze swiveled toward Blondie.
I thought for a moment Blondie would tell him to fuck off, but instead he nodded. "We're through here." He didn’t even give me a glance before he strode off, his hands in his pockets.
“You good dude?" the brown-haired man asked, keeping stride with him, their backs firmly to me.
"Just… Getting some air," Blondie said with a shrug. "It's not a big deal. Don't get your panties in a twist."
The black-haired man glanced over his shoulder at me as I stood beside the car, wondering what the hell just happened.
I half-expected to see a sneer in his eyes, but instead I saw something else, hunger.
His gaze dropped to my thighs, as if he was imagining his knees between them, his cock pounding into my pussy.
Shooting his release into my body before pulling back and watching it trickle back out.
Without looking back at my face, he turned and walked away.
Making sure my clothes were straight, while trying to regain some of my dignity, I went back inside.
Heat hit me again the moment I stepped through the door. Noise, movement and the stifling nightclub air, coupled with the smell of sweat and stale alcohol.
I couldn’t see any sign of the three men. Had they left, or were they hidden by the crowds? Not that I gave a shit. Pricks.
I stepped past the man with a devil mask and ignored the way his gaze followed me.
Not tonight, Satan. I’d had my share of being fucked around. Or actually, not being fucked around. I wasn’t taking anymore bait from masked men. Or unmasked men.
I spotted Lyra near the bar talking to a guy in a Scooby-Doo mask. She laughed at something he said, but her gaze swiveled, finding me. She placed a hand on his bicep and said something that looked like an apology before elbowing her way over to me.
"There you are. I was starting to think you got lost," she said. She looked at me sideways, then leaned in. "Are you okay?"
"Can we get out of here?" I asked. I'd had enough of crowds for one night. The throbbing music was starting to make my head thump along with it.
"Yeah, of course," she said without a moment's pause. That was one of the things I loved about her. When I'd had enough, she didn't argue. The reverse was true as well. If she wanted to leave, I was out the door right with her.
She hooked an arm through mine and we walked out of Vertical.
I pulled off my mask, letting it dangle from my fingers by the elastic. The fresh air was a welcome reprieve from inside.
"Okay, tell me what's going on," she said, pulling off her own mask.
"Nothing," I said. "Just men being men." It wasn't as though I expected a bouquet of roses, but him walking away like I was nothing stung a little.
Whatever. I was never going to see him again. If I did, I wouldn't know it, because next time he wouldn't be wearing a mask. The best and only thing to do now was to put him behind me. Remind myself he was the mistake, not me.
"Oh, men are so mannish, aren't they?" she said with a wave of her hand.
"They can be very mannish," I agreed.
"But was he any good?" she asked, nudging her elbow into my side.
I glanced over and shrugged. "I wouldn't know."
"Ah, I see," she said, clearly not seeing. "Forget about him. Life is way too short for regrets or stress, especially where men are involved."
I half-expected to see Blondie and his friends outside the nightclub, but there was no sign of them here either. Just a couple of women, arms wrapped around each other, sharing hungry kisses like they were the only two people left alive.
"Do you feel like a burger?" Lyra asked.
"I could eat a burger," I agreed.
I remembered what Blondie said about being careful about what he put in his body. I was careful…when it came to the quality of my burgers. As far as I was concerned, Buns on the Beach, a burger joint a block away from Loams, made the best in the world. And they had the best name.
Lyra called for a ride share, which pulled up a couple of minutes later, taking us away from the nightclub and down to the busier part of town.
“So, why was this guy so mannish?" Lyra asked, slipping into the seat opposite me at the booth.
Between mouthfuls of burger and fries, I told her what happened.
"It's no big deal," I said, echoing Blondie's words.
"Why do the ones with big cocks always have to be jerks?" she asked.
I had no answer for that. It did seem to be the case though.
“The bigger the dick, the bigger the ego. The bigger the cock, the bigger the dick. The… You get the idea.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I do. Lucky it doesn’t work that way for breasts.”
“Very lucky,” I agreed. That was probably all Blondie saw anyway; my ample cleavage.
"Let's not talk about them anymore," I said. "Tell me about the guy in the Scooby-Doo mask."
She laughed so hard she almost choked on a fry. “There's not much to tell. He walked up to me and said some corny line about how I must be an angel fallen from heaven or something.”
I snorted. "At least he was trying. Did you get his number?"
She hesitated for a moment, looking like she was going to deny it, but then she grinned.
"Yeah, I did. He's going to call me."
I offered her a fist bump. "I hope you have more luck than I did."
She lifted up a fry to offer me a toast. "Here's to men who aren't too mannish."
I toasted her in return before popping the fry into my mouth. While I ate, I kept half an eye on the door. What would I say if Blondie and his friends walked through it? Even without masks, I'd recognize the clothes they were wearing.
As it was, only a few people trickled in and out. A couple of tourists and some people I knew.
One of Indie's boyfriends came in to grab some takeout.
For someone as quiet as she was, I was surprised she had three boyfriends, but I was happy for her.
They all seemed to adore her. Why wouldn't they?
She was smart and sweet. My dads would be lost without her at Loams. She worked hard for them and wouldn't hurt a fly.
As far as I knew anyway. She might secretly be a serial killer, murdering people at night and disposing of their bodies in the ocean.
They didn't call this place Saltgrave for nothing.
It had a dark history that most of the locals liked to pretend didn't exist. All except the ones who ran ghost tours of the town. They embraced it, of course.
"I know what you're doing, you know," Lyra said, as I looked toward the door for the millionth time. "You're hoping your wannabe fuck buddy's going to find you here." She gave me a knowing look.
"I am not," I protested. "Besides, it doesn't matter if he does. I'm here with you. I'm not going to ditch you for some random guy." Even if he did have a big dick. She wouldn't ditch me for a guy either. Girl code and all that.
"Who said anything about ditching anyone?" she asked. "You could introduce me to his friends. I'm sure I could handle both of them while you handle him." If anyone could handle two men with ease, it would be Lyra.
"I'm sure you could," I said, but I had the feeling at least the black-haired man wouldn't go there with her. I might have been reading too much into his look, but I got the impression it was me he wanted.
Would I welcome a round with him and Blondie? I wouldn’t have objected before tonight, but now I dismissed the idea. As far as I was concerned, they could fuck all the way off and then some.
"It doesn't matter," I added. "I'm never going to see any of them again. They're probably tourists down for a night or two before they go back to…" I gestured vaguely. "Wherever they came from."
Blondie might have a family back home. Ugh, I hated the hell out of that thought. I wasn't cut out to be the other woman.
She leaned in and frowned at me. "Teddie Ward. Have I taught you nothing? You didn't get his phone number? Or his name? What about his social media handle? How are you supposed to stalk his ass and make his life a living hell for what he did to you?"
“Why would I want to do that?” I asked. “Anyway, we didn't engage in meaningful conversation." Or any, beyond agreeing we both smelled good.
She sighed and shook her head, but a smile threatened at the corner of her mouth. "I'm starting to think you shouldn't be left alone. I would have insisted he gave you those details." She clicked her tongue like I was a naughty child. "Better yet, you shouldn't have given him the time of day."
"You were the one who slipped off to the restroom," I reminded her.
She raised her finger as though she might argue the point, but then lowered it again.
"You're right, I did. I thought I should give you some space. My mistake. Next time, I'll stick around," she said. "If anyone tries anything like that again, I'll knee them in the groin."
"Next time, you'll do exactly what you did tonight," I said. "Anyway, I don't want to stalk his ass."
She seemed to be taking this a lot more personally than I was. That was sweet of her. She was a good friend. I was lucky to have her in my corner, but enough talk about me and my sex life.
"Are you going to go out with Scooby-Doo if he asks you?" I teased.
"Knowing my luck, he'll be more like Shaggy." She grimaced. "Complete with weird snacks and that whole stoner vibe."
I laughed. "It could be worse. He could end up being one of the bad guys when you take the mask off. Or…" I paused for effect.
At the same time, we both said, "Scrappy-Doo," and started laughing.
"That would be horrible," she said when she'd finished laughing. "I'm almost certain he's not that bad. I mean, how could he be? He was wearing a Scooby mask." She raised one outstretched hand as if that settled the matter.
"Lyra and Scooby sitting in a tree. F-U-C-K-I-N-G," I teased in a sing-song voice.
She picked up a fry and threw it at me. "What are you, five?"
I grinned. "You never know, he might be the love of your life. You might get together and have little baby Scoobies, and drive around Saltgrave in a painted van, solving mysteries."
She threw another fry at me. "I don't even know his name, and you have us making babies already?"
I shrugged. "I want you to live your best life. Is that so bad?"
"Of course not, because I want the same for you," she said. She peeled a pickle off her burger and tossed it onto her plate with a grimace. "Besides, I'm never having children. I'll cuddle yours."
"What if I only have cats?" I asked.
"Then I'll cuddle your cats," she said, unruffled. "I don't want the responsibility of taking care of another living creature. I have a hard enough time looking after myself."
"I don't believe that," I said, but I wasn't going to argue with her decision. If that's how she felt, I'd support her, the same way she'd support me if I made a call like that.
My phone, which lay next to my plate on the table, flashed with an incoming message.
I was going to ignore it, except I realized it came from the crowdfunding app. Specifically from Hel6913.
It simply said
We need to talk