The Playbook

I let out a laugh. “Seriously, Murray, get any closer and people will think it’s you who wants to go on a date with me,” I say, which earns me a chuckle from the guys. Murray turns around and glares at them and the laughter stops instantly.

“Maybe you should worry less about me and more about your perfect reputation. I’ll see you tonight, sunshine. Don’t be late,” he sings, his eyes gleaming.

When I reach the bar just before eight, the whole team are already there. A cheer erupts as I walk in and I cringe. It would actually feel pretty good if I knew it wasn’t to take the piss out of me.

I spot Rhonda right away. Mainly, because she’s hard to miss; but just in case I had any doubt, the red rose sitting on the table is a giveaway.

I reluctantly smile and walk slowly towards her. Dinner, then I’m out of here. Murray didn’t say anything about a time minimum. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since breakfast.

“Hey toots, how’s it going?” I figure that my usual cocky attitude should get me through this. Hell, it might make her leave so I can eat in peace.

Her eyes widen as if she can’t believe I’m her date. “You’re Jake?” she breathes, blushing like a little schoolgirl. I slide into the seat opposite her and nod, helping myself to some of the bread that sits in the middle of the table. “So, you liked my profile?” she asks, beaming from ear to ear?

I glance over her shoulder towards the team. They all start gesturing something about blow jobs. I nearly gesture back to them, but stop myself just in time.

“It’s not that strange, is it?” she asks, taking a sip of her Diet Coke.

“No, course not,” I assure her, having no idea what she is talking about. “In fact, I’d like to hear more about it. But shall we order first?”

I signal the waitress over to take our orders and she is hot, with a skirt barely covering her arse, and a white shirt that I would love to rip clean off her. My cock hardens as I imagine fucking her right on this table. I snort. Yeah, Rhonda would love that.

“I will have the steak,” I decide, barely even looking at the menu. “Rare. And baked potato and a green salad, please. No dressing.”

“Yes, Mr. Tanner, will there be anything else?” She raises an eyebrow. She’s obviously hot for me, and I love that she knows who I am, but I’m stuck talking to Rhonda about God knows what.

“I’ll have the double cheeseburger and fries with a side of onion rings, please. And another Diet Coke,” Rhonda says, too engrossed in the menu to notice that I can’t take my eyes off the waitress as she walks away. Man, look at that arse!

I turn back to Rhonda, who is staring at me, a defeated expression on her face. Aw, shit. My conscience kicks in and I start to feel guilty about this whole thing. She legitimately thinks I’m into her; poor girl. I can get that waitress in bed any night—maybe even later tonight, but for the next few hours it’s going to be all about Rhonda. I have to look at this as doing my bit for the girls who would never have a chance with a guy like me. And I honestly don’t mean that to sound horrible. I genuinely want her to take away good memories from tonight.

“Great to see a woman who isn’t afraid to eat,” I say, complimenting her. “Most chicks are afraid to eat in public, in case they seem human.” The type of girls I date, at least. I’m genuinely impressed, but, at the same time, I can't help thinking it wouldn't hurt her to eat a salad.

“Yeah, I enjoy my food,” she says blushing. I chuckle. I can tell.

“So, what were you saying?” I ask. The more she talks, the less effort for me. I can eat my dinner, make some excuse about my sick rabbit, and then leave. Laughter echoes across the room, coming from the bar. I scowl at the guys, who enthusiastically wave back. Cocksuckers!

“I was telling you about my cats. Do you like cats?”

“No, but I love pussy,” I joke. Rhonda stares at me, clearly mortified by my comment. “Sorry. Yeah, cats are okay. They taste especially nice with barbeque sauce.” Oh God. It’s like I can’t stop myself.

“That’s not funny,” she frowns. “Not liking cats is kind of a deal breaker for me, since I have five of them.” She sighs, and I swear I see tears in her eyes. What’s wrong with this chick?

I can’t help myself and zone out as the waitress walks past again. She drops her notebook, then glances back at me before bending over to get it, giving me a great view of her black lace panties. For fuck’s sake, this is torture. I glance back at Murray, wondering if this is part of my punishment too.

Come on Jake, pull yourself together.

I turn back to Rhonda and force myself to listen as she rambles on. She’s still talking about her cats. The way her face lights up, she really seems to care about them.

“I’ve never met a girl who loves her pussy so much,” I mutter. She glares at me again and I chuckle.

“Well, I mean, what's not to like?” she asks, ignoring my poke. “They’re so loving and gentle. Well apart from Mr. Snickers. He’s anything but gentle. But I still love him. They all came into my life when I was going through a difficult patch. Like Fluffy, she was a stray that turned up at my house after my mum died. I got home from her funeral and she was just sat there on my doorstep and refused to move. It’s like she knew I was in pain and wanted to help me. So I took her in. She’s slept on my pillow next to me ever since. I tell her everything, and sometimes she even talks back.” She takes a deep breath, pulling a tissue from her bag. “I don’t usually tell people about my gift this early,” she says, laughing nervously. Out of nowhere, she lets out a low wail and starts crying into her tissue.

“Uh, are you okay?” I ask, not exactly sure what’s going on. She’s actually pretty sweet—albeit a little loopy. I feel bad that I’m messing with her because it sounds like she’s been through a lot.

“I’m fine,” she replies, looking down at her plate. “I just need to go to the ladies’ room. I’ll be back in a minute.” She gets up and turns to the direction of Murray and his little gang of clones, just in time to see them simulating doggie style on each other. Blushing, she glances back at me, then runs for the bathroom. Fuck. Standing up, I head straight for Murray, annoyed that she had to see that. My fist comes out of nowhere and hits him square on his nose. He’s floored instantly and screaming abuse at me.

“What the fuck,” he growls, through his hands which are covering his bleeding nose. He rolls around on the floor in what I hope is sheer agony. The other guys all stand there, shocked at what's just happened.

“You guys all need to piss off,” I growl. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to that poor girl? She saw your stupid childish gestures and is probably in the bathroom crying her little heart out. It’s one thing to make me do this, but it’s not fair on her to make her look like a fucking joke.”