“You don’t have to propose,” Julie said adamantly. “Just see if he’s DTF.” She threw back another shot and smiled dreamily at the man. “You’d have such pretty babies together.”
That made me laugh out loud. “Okay, I think you’ve had about enough. Time to pour you into an Uber, young lady.”
I managed to catch the bartender’s eye and gestured to have our tab closed. Damon nodded and turned back to the register while I started collecting the various crap that Julie had scattered over the tabletop. You know that song about tequila making a girl’s clothes fall off? Well, apparently slippery nipple shots make them unpack their entire freaking purse all over the place.
By the time Damon waved me over to sign my credit card receipt, I had my bestie propped up and her purse over my shoulder. We were almost to the bar when she stumbled, crashing us directly into Mr. Hottie’s back.
Because, of course we did.
“Sorry, man,” I muttered, hoping the bar was too dark for him to see the flush rising in my cheeks. I tried to balance Julie with one arm and reach for the ticket with the other hand, but she kept swaying.
“Here,” Mr. Hottie said firmly, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I’ll hold your girlfriend up and you take care of that.”
Julie laughed up into his face. “Not his girlfriend,” she slurred happily. “This is a gay bar. He needs an ass dicking.” She shrugged. “I have no dick.”
Oh. My. Freaking. God.
My jaw bounced off the floor as I shove the receipt and my card back into my pocket. “Just ignore her,” I sighed. “She’s wasted. I better get her in the Uber.”
“Is she wrong?” the man asked curiously, running his eyes down my body and back to meet mine.
“Umm.” I honestly didn’t even know how to answer him. Proof again that I definitely did not have enough game to be trying to flirt with this man. So, naturally, I just launched into TMI mode. “I’m verse, actually.”
What the serious freak, Julian, I groaned silently.
Surprisingly, Mr. Hottie seemed to find my response amusing instead of off-putting. “Well then, maybe you should pop back in and join me for a drink after you find that rideshare.”
Seriously? He was finding this shitshow appealing? I sighed again.
“I can’t,” I admitted. “She’s my roommate and I really don’t think she’s sober enough to get herself home, even in a rideshare.”
Mr. Hottie cocked his head slightly. “Is that the only reason?” he asked quietly. “If you’re not interested, I don’t want to bug you, but if you might be, you could come by my hotel after you’ve tucked her in?”
I’d totally blocked out the fact that Julie was watching us until she stage-whispered, “Do it!” before swaying and nearly losing her balance again.
“Good lord,” I groaned, sending Mr. Hottie an apologetic look and pulling out my phone. “Look, can I get your number and we can evaluate the options after I get her home?”
“Absolutely,” he agreed, reeling off his phone number. “I hope you use it.”
Smiling weakly, I shoved my phone back in my pocket and mumbled what I hoped was a politely non-committal response, maneuvering Julie back against my side to work our way out into the night.
Chuck
Arriving in Philadelphia late in the afternoon, I checked into my hotel and then walked into a corner bar with the rainbow flag hanging in the window not expecting to find more than a burger; I definitely hadn’t hoped for anything as spicy as the man fighting a losing battle trying to keep his drunk friend quiet at a table near the wall.
I’d watched them from the corner of my eye, my amusement growing as I sipped my bartender-recommended local microbrew. Then I choked on my beer when the woman -getting progressively louder - pointed me out and expressed the opinion that her pal needed to get laid. And even though it was not what I was looking for when I’d walked through the doors, I had to admit that my mouth was watering a bit at the thought.
He looked to be a few years younger than my forty-four, with sable hair falling in longish waves around his ears. His navy slacks and slightly-wrinkled cream-colored button down shirt suggested that he wasn’t exactly out on the prowl, regardless of his friend’s comments. I was contemplating different ways to meet them without coming off as overbearing or interrupting their evening when they very literally ran into me at the bar, giving me the perfect opening to meet him as I held his drunk friend up.
It wasn’t until after the door closed behind him that I realized I hadn’t even gotten his name. Groaning to myself, I reached for the menu that the bartender had tossed down in front of me. Oh, well.
“Hey.”
I was nearly done with my bacon burger when a cheerful voice came from beside me. I looked away from the television over the bar, disappointed to find a man with spiky blond hair and a flirtatious smile perched on the stool next to me instead of the man I’d hoped to see.
“Hi.”
“I’m Sean.”
