SEVERAL HOURS LATER, ME, Ava, Nathan, Tegan, and Tegan’s slutty bitch are sitting at our usual table at Blackie’s. I feel the tension radiating off Ava, who’s sitting beside me, and I have to give it to her. She’s held her tongue a lot longer than I thought she would. One thing me and Ava can’t stand is for a woman to take advantage of the two guys in our group; we’re all protective of each other. I recognize the fact that Tegan knows what’s going on, that Lisa is taking advantage of him and what he can give her. Ava, on the other hand, has trouble reining in her temper at times. I have control over my bitchy side, whereas Ava doesn’t, or rather, she chooses not to rein it in.
I know she’s about to lose it, so to help Tegan out, I pull her from her seat and tug her with me to the bar.
“Come help me order more drinks.”
Ava shoots Lisa a hate-filled glare before reluctantly getting up. I have to yank her even harder when Lisa returns the look.
“I swear to God, if I have to watch that skank eye-fuck another guy while sitting in Tegan’s lap, practically humping his dick, I’m going to yank her fucking hair out and shove it down her throat,” Ava growls, stomping after me.
“Just leave it, Ava. You know Tegan’s not stupid, and he knows what she’s doing. You think he really cares? He’s only after one thing from her, just as she is him.”
“Still pisses me off. He always picks the worst fucking cunts.”
“It’s his choice.” I defend him, even if I do agree with her. I’ve never understood how Tegan, a guy that is so relaxed, sweet, and carefree, always picks such women.
We make it to the crowded bar and slide in beside two guys that are grumbling over the football game that’s on the screen behind the bar. When they see us step up beside them, they both stop talking and turn their attention to us. I eye them both, looking to see if one of them could be my potential lover for the night, and mentally shout a big no in my head. It’s not that I’m overly picky—I can’t be when I go through so many men—but I have my limits, and those limits consist of no one that smells like they haven’t showered in a week. My eyes flick to the other guy. No one that’s so drunk, his beard is soaked with what I hope is beer, is also a no-no.
One of the guys opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Ava throws up her hand in his face and says “Not interested” without even looking at him.
I choke back my laughter as the guy looks between us both and mutters “Bitch” before turning back to his friend.
“You really are a cunt sometimes,” I tell her as we wait on the bartender, who’s just acknowledged us.
“No, being a cunt would be letting him think even for a second he had a chance. I prefer to stop it before it gets that far. Makes it less messy.”
Her logic is true, even if it still makes her a cunt.
I take a seat on one of the stools as we wait. My hands fidget in my lap, and I wince when a sharp pain enters my side. I blow out a slow breath and breathe through the pain, trying to push it back.
So far, I haven’t had any luck finding a guy. We’ve only been here an hour, but it feels more like three. I’ve come across quite a few guys I’ve had before, but I prefer not to use them again. When you sleep with a guy more than once, you take the chance of either him or you forming an attachment—no matter how much you don’t want to—and that’s one thing I refuse to do. However, it’s looking like I may have to tonight. I could ask Nathan to help me out, but his eyes have been on Lisa and Tegan, and I don’t want to pull him away from something he obviously wants. I’ll just have to make sure it’s someone I haven’t slept with in a long time.
When the bartender brings our drinks, I snatch mine up and take a big swallow. I like my drinks strong, so it burns when it hits my throat. I welcome the burn, hoping it’ll distract me from the pain that’s steadily getting worse in my stomach. But it’s a wasted effort, because it never works. Nothing does, except sex.
I put the glass down on the bar when my hand starts to shake so badly, the ice clinks against the side of the glass.
“Holy hell,” Ava says from beside me. “Now that man right there, I’d definitely let fuck me five ways to Sunday. And to Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.”
Intrigued, because it’s not often Ava shows that much interest in a man, I turn in my seat to face the dance floor. It takes me a minute to zero in on who she’s referring to, but once I do, I know for a fact that it’s the one I’m looking at.
He’s got to be at least six foot five, as he towers over everyone around him. Even through his dress shirt and black suit jacket, I can tell he’s well-built, with muscles stacked on top of each other. His dark brown hair is just long enough to run your fingers through, and you can tell he shaves every day, but is now sporting what I would call a nine o’clock in the evening shadow.
My body starts to tingle with awareness, wanting to gravitate to the stranger and have him take me. My panties become wet and an ache forms between my legs. I shift in my seat, knowing this is the man I want.
I look down at the redhead that’s standing in front of him with a scowl on her face, and feel an irrational need to cl
aw her eyes out and demand he’s already taken. He’s looking down at her, his jaw hard with his temple throbbing. He has his hands in his pockets, looking relaxed, but from the rigid way his body is standing, you can tell he’s anything but.
She says something to him and turns to walk away, but he grabs her by the arm, keeping her in place. I watch as she says something else to him, gesturing with her other hand around her. He looks around briefly, with an unconcealed nasty sneer overtaking his face, before looking back at her. I know that look well, and it pisses me off. His look says he’s disgusted with what’s going on here.
I turn in my seat, having seen enough. That look alone has my stomach souring. I hate people like him, the ones that think they are better than others. The ones that think just because it may be something they aren’t into, then it’s wrong and disgusting. The judgmental assholes of the world. The ones that would look at me with revulsion and label me as a freak.
“He looks like an asshole to me,” I tell Ava, finishing off my drink and ordering another.
“But a fucking delicious looking asshole,” she says, still facing the dance floor. “I bet I could tame that asshole right out of him.”
I have no doubt she could, but I have no desire to know about it.
Sighing wistfully, Ava grabs her drink and tells me she’s going back to our table. I glance over and am glad when I don’t see Tegan and Lisa at our table. That means I don’t need to run interference for a bit.