Kicking Reality

“I’ll argue that. Remember that Christmas jumper you used to wear that our neighbor knitted for all of us but your snowmen looked like two giant dicks?”

She had to bring it up. The jumper that still gives me the chills yet my mom insists on keeping the photos of me posing in front of our barely decorated tree. The snowmen did look like two giant dicks. The neighbor had dick on her mind when she was knitting that piece of shit.

“Point taken. Where to now?”

“It’s a surprise . . . you’ll love it.”

The bar is full of people; groups that had empty glasses on their tables, laughing heavily as their waiter brings a fresh round. There were a few couples; keeping quiet but engaging in conversation. The music is loud and streaming through the giant speakers; an R&B remix with some “Country Grammar” to start it off. It is rather busy but expected for a Saturday night in LA.

There’s one small table available in the middle. We squash through the crowd, quickly securing the table that remained dirty with unused glasses. The bar stools are high, giving us an advantage and bringing us to eye level with those dancing.

Aside from the dirty glasses, there’s a menu in the middle of the table. I was starving, till I realize the menu is of songs . . . karaoke songs.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

“On no you don’t.” I pull the song list out of her hands, demanding she think of something else to do.

“We need more booze. Loosen your panties mister because karaoke is fun. It’s something I never get to do. Look at all these people!” She lowers her voice while leaning in. “They have no clue who we are. We can do anything we want.”

Emmy had a point. Not one person had recognized us, or at least her, and everyone kept to themselves. Everywhere you turned, someone had a cell out taking selfies or photos of their friends. This place was like a minefield for the both us.

“But it involves singing,” I complain.

“Please?” Pouting her lips, and with eyes wide begging without shame, I finally give in.

“Fine. But stop giving me the puppy-dog look. Order a round of drinks so I can gear myself up and don’t pull any girly shit out like Abba or something.”

She whistles for the bartender, looking awfully pleased with herself when he comes over quick. I can’t hear what she’s ordering but it didn’t matter. I would drink whatever to lessen the embarrassing performance about to happen.

“Alright.” She raises her cocktail and presents her toast. “To fun times! Let’s go wild and live life to the fullest if only for tonight.”

We clink glasses, the both of us drinking in one hit.

“Damn woman . . .” I almost choke back the burn. “You could drink me under the table.”

“I could also fuck you under the table,” she suggests with a straight face. “Or both.”

I fucking loved her boldness; never wanting to admit to her that her smart mouth challenged me like no other woman had. When Emerson Chase came out to play, you better have your A game on because she never ever backed down.

I lean forward, bring my face close to hers. “You’re a fucking tease. Always have been.”

“Whatever.” She grins, pushing another glass in front of me. Did she want me to be legless tomorrow? I could hold a decent amount of alcohol but I started to feel the effects. “You never looked at me that way.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh yeah? Like when?”

“Graduation day,” I tell her. “You wore this pink dress underneath your gown. When the strap of your shoe came undone, you leaned forward to fix it. I saw your white laced panties peeking through.”

She laughs, her beautiful smile unable to hide. “So, you caught a peek at my panties? You really were deprived.”

“You were bare.”

“Was I? I don’t remember.”

“I do.” Raising my glass to my mouth, I hide my smirk. “I just wanted to fucking eat it.”

Her laughs slow down, becoming serious and heavy pants. Mirroring my moves, she hides behind the glass while gazing at me longingly. I wanted to kiss her mouth. Tease her lips with my tongue and fucking taste her. Beneath my shorts, my dick rages hard and all it wants is her.