Home > In the Dark (The Rules #2)(47)

In the Dark (The Rules #2)(47)
Author: Monica Murphy

“You two are going to use me so you can find chicks to bang?” He shakes his head. “Unreal.”

“You don’t want to bang them anymore so that’s our new rule. You’re our official wingman,” Tristan declares. “Not that we need your help. We can do this shit on our own, but it’ll be fun. Like old times. Right, Gabe?”

“Yeah,” I agree, knowing that this is the right thing to do. Finding a girl, flirting with a girl, a complete stranger. Buying her a drink, getting close to her, flatter her, touch her, kiss her, take her back to my place and get her naked and in my bed. That’ll push Lucy out of my head once and for all. I haven’t been laid since the last time I saw her. That’s my problem. I’m stuck on her because it’s been so long.

Now I can only hope I find a sexy little dark haired girl with a banging body at the bar tonight. With flashing dark eyes and full lips and killer tits, a tiny waist and bull hips and an ass that I want to grip. A girl with a throaty laugh and an easy smile and a way of touching me that makes me feel so damn alive…

Fuck. I’m thinking of Lucy.

Still.

“Tonight at ten at Jack’s they’re having a back to school special,” Tristan says, pulling me from my semi-depressing thoughts. “All girly drinks are half off.”

“What about us?” Shep asks, making a face. “No beer specials? I hate girly drinks.”

“Nope. Not even the shitty stuff on tap is discounted. They’re doing it on purpose. A new plan they have going on. Get the girls into the bar to buy all the cheap drinks and get them good and drunk so we can start picking up on them.” Tristan grins and raises his eyebrows.

“Great. That’s not creepy or anything,” Shep drawls and I think the same thing.

The same exact thing.

Drunken college girls aren’t high on my list. They get silly. They get a little loose, which I usually have no problem with. But when they drink too much and they’re all together, they get mouthy. Loud. Opinionated.

I’m starting to regret tonight’s events already.

The bar Gina brought me to is completely packed, full of mostly women around my age. They all have vividly colored, fruity looking drinks clutched in their hands topped with bright little umbrellas, crowded around the bar wearing as few articles of clothing as they can get away with without being completely naked.

I feel downright overdressed in the soft yellow sundress I chose to wear. But Gina had insisted it was perfect when she saw me in it. Strapless and with a ruched bodice that my breasts can hold up quite well, I’m showing off a hint of cleavage and a lot of leg, all while being mostly covered.

“It really shows off your tanned skin,” Gina had said, which made me laugh. Yes, I’m darker than usual from all the time I spent in the sun over the summer, but my skin is about this shade of brown pretty much year round.

This is what happens when you’re Mexican and no one realizes it. They automatically think you have a great tan.

“This place is crazy,” Gina shouts in my ear. “I love it, don’t you?”

Not really but I don’t want to burst her bubble so I nod, deciding I shouldn’t bother answering. The music is loud, the insistent, throbbing beat seems to move right through me, vibrating just beneath my skin. The girls are all swaying and moving together, almost like they planned it and I notice a group of guys lined up against the opposite wall, clutching beers in their hands and watching the women in rapt fascination.

We showed up because a flier somehow ended up on our apartment door. Considering Gina and I are on limited incomes and Gina was feeling a little down about Chad leaving, we thought going out for a half-off drink was a great idea.

I didn’t realize it was going to be such an obvious meat market.

“Let’s get a drink,” Gina yells, grabbing my hand and leading me through the throng. They all seem to part, like they’re water and we’re the mighty Moses or something and the bar magically appears, a couple of young looking guys working behind it. “What do you want?” she asks, turning to look at me.

“Pick something out for me,” I say, not sure what I should order. I’m not a big drinker. I never have been. Most people go out and party on their twenty-first birthday but not me. It’s just never interested me.

Really? I don’t like losing control. Losing control means I might do stupid things and I don’t want to be tempted. It’s better to avoid alcohol altogether.

Tonight though, I’m doing this for Gina. Maybe a little bit for me, too. Seeing all of those guys lined up on the wall, how cute some of them are, makes me think of Gabe and how much I miss him.

Lame but true.

Gina waves her hand at one of the bartenders and he makes his way over to us, offering her a flirtatious smile and a suggestive, “What can I do for you?”

She orders two drinks, I swear I heard her say the word zombie, and he offers her up a wink and a smile before he slaps the edge of the counter and says, “Be right back with that.”

He walks away and I lean close to her ear to murmur, “He was flirting with you.”

She turns and gapes at me in surprise. “He was not.”

“He so was.” I watch as he casts her a sidelong glance before he starts going to work on our drinks.

“I’m sure he flirts with all the girls. Look at how many are here tonight,” Gina says, waving a hand around. “He has his pick of any of them.”

   
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