I’m awkward around guys. She’s not. I stammer when I talk to them. She’s eloquent and composed. I’m a nervous introvert,and she’s an extrovert who can also do shots of tequila with no problem.
Right now, I’m quaking in my heels as we stand by the bar at Chuckie’s, some local dive she said has ‘great energy,’ waiting for my blind date to show up.
“I promise you you’ll like him,” she assures me. “Peter says he’s awesome.”
Peter is her boyfriend, a pro-golfer on his way to fame and fortune. Aaron is apparently one of his golfing buddies—or maybe he works at the club? I can’t remember.
“Well, ifPetersays so…”
She bonks me with her shoulder. “Would you cheer up? I thought you were into this idea. What happened to you?”
Yeah…whatdidhappen to me?
When Emily first came to me with the idea of this date, I was actually kind of psyched. Like I said, I’m rotten with guys, and being set up with someone who might actually be cool seemed like the best thing for me.
But now, as I stand here in the crowd, shouting over the blaring '80s music and nearly drowning in the sea of cologne and perfume, my mind can think of only one thing…
…Jake.
I can still feel his hand on my wrist, gripping me like he owned me as his eyes ran up and down my body.
He was checking me out. No doubt about it. I may be awkward, but I know when a guy is looking at me.
And I know I should be disgusted. Most girls would be, right? You can’t just have your step-brother ogling your ass or checking out your chest. But when Jake looked at me…I liked it…
“He’s here, he’s here!” Emily blurts out, pointing behind me.
I turn to the door and see her boyfriend step in, looking rich in his green polo. And beside him, standing at least six inches shorter, is my date.
Emily assured me he was good-looking, which he is, I guess…if you’re into guys wearing gaudy fake-designer clothing with broccoli haircuts like it’s 2018 again.
There’s also something about the way he walks that bothers me…It’s like he’s casing the joint. He also doesn’t hide it when he checks out literally every girl that passes.
As he gets closer, I see that his eyes are glassy. Is he on something? An uneasy feeling sets into my stomach, and I reach for my things.
“I’m gonna go…” I say, setting my glass down.
“Oh, please don’t!” Emily replies. “He’s right there! Peter says he’s great. Let me do something nice for you. Have alittle fun!”
Alittle fun? Is she kidding?
I’m a virgin, and she knows that. I’m not about to just go hook up with some guy I just met. Especially when he looks like he’d happily jump into bed with any one of the girls here tonight.
Movement across the bar catches my eye—a tall man standing by a support column.Is that…Jake?
He’s gone in an instant, leaving me with a pit in my stomach. Geez, this is bad. I’m already hallucinating my gorgeous step-brother in the crowd when I know he’s back at home.
Then, just like that, the boys arrive.
Peter wraps his arms around Emily, and the two of them start fawning all over each other. Aaron takes a power-stance in front of me like he’s sizing me up for a race.
“Hi,” I manage to squeak out. “I’m Piper.”
Before I even realizing what’s happening, he’s got his arm around me and is ordering a beer from the bar. “What do you say we get hammered and head back to my place?”
“Your place?” I’m trembling. He stinks like he bathed in cologne—and not a nice-smelling one either.
He winks and leans closer, whispering, “They call me the Pile Driver. Can you guess why?”
