“You look like you could use some company.”
“Go away.”
Her expression faltered slightly before smoothing out. “What’s your name? I’m Sarah.”
“I don’t care.”
She sighed. “Fine. Be that way. Just trying to be friendly.” She turned and left.
A jukebox in the corner played some country shit, a man wailing over a guitar about how he’d lost the love of his life and he was just so sad about it. A group of men stood next to it, near a pool table.
She went to them.
I stared down at the table.
“That didn’t go well,” Kelly said.
“Shut up.”
“How the hell did you ever get laid?”
“I swear to god, if you don’t—”
“Hey, friend.”
I looked up again. Four men stood at my table. Sarah was near the jukebox, looking upset. She called to the men, “It’s not a big deal. Leave it alone.”
They ignored her. “It seems like we have a problem,” one of the men said. He was stocky, the lines on his face deep. His head was shaved, and I saw a tattoo of a cross on his neck.
“I’m just having a beer.”
“Is that right?” the man said. “Because my sister over there said you were rude to her.”
“She wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“You too good for her?”
I sat back in the booth, stretching my arms over the back of the seat. “Are you seriously asking me why I won’t fuck your sister? Because if you are, I gotta say, dude. You are far too invested in the sex life of your sibling. Probably should set some boundaries.”
He leaned forward, hands flat against the table. “What was that?”
“You heard me.”
He nodded slowly. “I think we have a problem.”
“That sounds like a you thing. You should walk away.”
The men behind him laughed. “That right?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
He knocked my beer bottle into my lap. My jeans were instantly soaked.
“Get up,” he said.
I picked up the bottle and set it back on the table. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Get. Up.”