BETTSY
By my fifth beer, I have decided the whole ‘no-sex’ rule needs breaking. It didn’t last long, but I can’t help it—bars and women? I’m programmed to flirt. Flirt and be flirted with—or at least I hope for the latter.
“I think I was being harsh on myself,” I tell Danny. “I think I may … I don’t know, see who catches my eye tonight.”
He takes a sip from his beer, a grin forming on his lips. “I wondered how long it’d take you.”
“Yeah, well…”
“Has this got anything to do with this forum stuff? Because I don’t think you need to worry about it. The GM hasn’t called you in yet. That’s got to be a good sign.”
I tighten my jaw. “That’s a problem, mate. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Really? I guess I thought he’d want to see you pretty much straight away,” Danny says. “And since he didn’t…”
“It’s coming. Trust me.”
I take a sip of my own beer as I peer around the bar for a distraction.
It’s one of Johnny’s favourite places because it doesn’t get loud or overly busy. That, combined with it being a Sunday—a rare weekend evening off—means it’s pretty chilled in here, but there’s still several potentials scattered around the room.
My attention falls to the right side of the bar, and I nudge Danny’s arm.
“What about her?” I point towards a tall brunette making her way through the sea of tables towards us.
“Nah, she’s too pretty for you,” Danny says, taking another swig of beer .
While I should take offense, he’s right. I’m a five at best with my teeth in and, on a good day, I can bag a seven—all thanks to my winning personality.
“What about her then?” This time, my attention is on a cute blonde with six-inch heels.
Danny does his best ‘casual glance’ before facing me, shaking his head.
“Nah, again … too pretty. I think you need to invest in some glasses, Betts.” He surveys the bar, taking his time to sip at his drink. “She’s decent.” He gestures to another blonde about twelve feet away. “Still too pretty for you, but you could consider it a challenge.”
Short hair—maybe a little too short for my liking, and a face full of makeup that looks slightly over-the-top. Rochelle-type style…
“Nah, I think I need to switch it up. Because we both know what happened the last time I thought with my dick.”
Danny raises his eyebrows as he takes another swig. “If you say so.”
But we observe the steady flow of guys trickling past the table she’s sharing with some friends.
I’m keeping tabs of who she dances with, how many guys seem interested in her …
which fuels my competitive side—and the challenge Danny mentioned?
Even if I don’t take her home, I can still talk to her, right?
“Let’s say hi,” I tell Danny. “Wingman?”
He grins, draining the rest of his beer, and I do the same—standard practice as it gives us the opportunity to ask the girls if they want a drink.
I flash her a grin, grateful that I put my teeth in, and she gets the message that I’m seeking her out by smiling back.
I stop next to the table—which is about the same time I realise she’s got really pretty eyes. Not so much like Rochelle, after all .
She looks to my right at Danny, checking him out maybe, I can’t tell, but since I’m funnier than he is, I stand a good chance.
“D-Eight?” I say, leaning down to talk into her ear.
The music is louder here, and I bend funny to get into the right position to speak with her since I’m easily half a foot taller than she is.
She sips her drink, sucking gently through the straw resting in a half-full tumbler of a something-and-coke before swallowing—it’s as if she’s trying to draw attention to her mouth.
“Is this the vending machine chat up line?” she says, raising an eyebrow.
“Nah,” I say. “I was referring to a chess board—I’m trying to make a move on my queen.” I cringe inside but break out a smile.
“That’s terrible,” she says.
“Give me a chance … I’m just getting started,” I say, trying to keep my confidence up.
“Go on then, give me your worst.” She sets her glass down before leaning back against the table, folding her arms over her chest.
I will my eyes to take even the smallest of glances downward to her boobs. Her dress is cut low and even though I’m definitely an ass-man, I typically can’t say no to tits either.
But the way she tightens her expression makes me forget how pretty her eyes are, and instead, forces me to think about Rochelle.
Rochelle and the absolute hell she put me through.
I know she’s waiting for me to say something, but my voice has frozen inside my throat.
Is this woman likely to do the same as Rochelle in several months’ time after she’s exhausted my generosity? Because that’s all I am. A good-time guy who’s dumb enough to be taken for a ride. Again and again.
But I’m realising my tank has run out of fuel .
“Are you okay, mate?” Danny nudges me, speaking into my ear.
“I think I need another drink,” I say, and instead of asking blondie if she wants one too, I turn on my heel and head back to the bar on my own where I order a fresh beer.
Danny joins me a moment later.
“What happened? I thought she was into it,” he says, nudging me.
What am I supposed to say to that? I let my ex get in my head? Nah—I can’t be admitting that to Danny.
“I’m thinking I want more of a challenge,” I say, trying to inject some confidence into my voice. “Maybe I’ll save my energy for camp … you know, I hear they have an ‘ice team’—those cheerleaders who scrape the ice.”
Danny scoffs. “Not a bad idea, actually.”
The bartender taps me on the shoulder, placing my beer down on the bar and I take my wallet out to pay, as there’s a chorus of cheers from the corner of the bar, loud enough to get the attention of everyone in a five-mile radius.
The rest of the team are crammed into that corner of the bar, one booth and several extra tables pulled up to accommodate the numbers—and I can see from a glance that Johnny and my sister are missing, but I decide I don’t want to know where they’ve gone.
“Shit—what’s going on there?” Danny says. “Let’s find out.”
“I’ll be over in a sec,” I say.
He disappears into a small crowd of people.
I take the alone time as an opportunity to throw back some shots, letting the liquor burn the back of my throat as it slides down, then I get my phone out of my pocket, wondering if I should call Rochelle and tell her what a piece of shit she is, but before I can make any rash decisions, Danny’s hand slaps me on the back.
“You’ll never guess what?” he says .
I shove my phone away in time to see Liam and Ryan Preston sliding into the space between Danny and me.
“Don’t tell him,” Danny says, flashing a look at the guys. “You’ll break his heart, Lee.”
“Vicky and I got engaged, that’s all. We weren’t making a big deal of it but—” Liam says.
“What do you mean you weren’t making a big deal of it? This is great news,” I say, forcing a smile.
I’m happy for them. I am. But I’m also jealous—not because I’ll have to stop the harmless flirting with Vicky, but because I don’t think I’ll ever find what Liam has with her.
“Shots?” I say, since I’ve already got the flavour.
I signal to the bartender before anyone can protest.
“Shouldn’t you be laying off a bit—with camp coming up?” Liam asks, though he’s the first one reaching for the tray of shot glasses when they’re deposited in front of us.
“Yeah, but a few shots won’t hurt,” I say.
And it’s true.
Shots don’t hurt at all. Heartache on the other hand…