I stare at Sulley and Palmer in awe as they continue to giggle like schoolgirls about my list throughout the entire Uber ride. Then they discuss groceries for the week and how they will equally divide household chores. They even chat about how much they miss their moms and how they talk to them every single day. These two may be the purest, most Hallmark-like, unaffected women I’ve ever met. I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone like them, and I’m honestly not sure they’re going to survive life in a big city. There are so many people who will take advantage of them. For a reason I can’t explain, I feel protective of their innocence and don’t want anything bad to happen to them.
We walk into Club Liberty, and I look around. I used to sneak in here while I was in high school, but it looks like it’s been renovated and is so much nicer than it used to be. It’s wall-to-wall people. Drinks are flowing, the music is pumping, and the dance floor is jammed with bodies.
Layla materializes out of nowhere and is immediately right in our faces. She’s clearly already had a few drinks and is practically bouncing up and down. God, overly cheery people annoy me.
She introduces us to her husband, Presley, and then they practically make out in front of us. Ugh, I hate people who are all loved up like that. It’s usually bullshit. A façade masking some underlying resentment. I bet they’ll be divorced within five years.
He’s cute, with brown hair, chocolate-brown eyes, and oliveskin. He’s shorter than her though. I don’t know that I could be with a man shorter than me. She jokingly refers to him as her short king, and he doesn’t seem to mind at all.
He then invites us to their private booth, which is on the roped-off VIP balcony overlooking the dance floor. Now he’s speaking my language.
We make our way up the stairs and to the booth. I see four men standing as we approach. I’ve never met any of them in person, but I know who they are. Vance McCaffrey is the golden boy who succeeded my father as the Camels’ quarterback. Creepily enough, he looks like my father, with dark hair, green eyes, and a bit of an ever-present scowl on his face.
I also notice Beau Fudd. Good lord, he’s even bigger than he looks on television. He’s a defensive lineman with shaven, dirty blond hair and muscles that have muscles. He looks like the Incredible Hulk.
Next to him is Champ Williamson. He’s a sexy, mocha-skinned running back with a badass bleached mohawk. He’s a little shorter than the rest of the guys, but he matches their muscles. I wish I wasn’t taller than him because he’s gorgeous. By far the sexiest man here. I’m immediately attracted to him. Screw the height, I’m taking that guy home with me. Yummy.
Finally, my eyes find Daylen Humblecut. He’s the tight end who comes across as a giant goofball known for touchdown dances and playing to the cameras. Ugh, I hate immature men who don’t take anything seriously. The blond hair on his head and his face is unruly. He’s wearing wrinkled clothing that looks like he picked it up off the floor before he left the house. There’s nothing more unattractive than an unkempt man who takes no pride in his appearance. I work hard on mine and expect the same of the inferior sex.
My disgust for the beast before me is broken up by the awkward as fuck way Vance and Sulley interact. “Do you two know each other?” I ask.
Sulley looks like a deer in headlights, but Vance gives me asmall nod and answers, “Sulley and I are from the same hometown.”
What? I didn’t realize that.
Daylen waves for the waiter and orders drinks for everyone, including a strawberry daiquiri for himself. I can’t help but laugh. I just told the girls how much I dislike men who order fruity drinks.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
I take in his entire ridiculous appearance and answer, “We were recently having a few conversations about red flags and, to be honest, you check a lot of those boxes.”
His head jerks back in obvious shock. “Like what?”
I do my best to hide my bemused smirk. “You’re wearing sandals and a necklace.” I nod toward his phone on the table. “And your cell phone is an Android.” I say Android like it’s a bad word because nothing fucks up a group chat like the dumbass who uses an Android.
He goes into a whole thing about me being petty and a negative person. No shit.
He then goes on to boast about his conquests. I make a note to add that to my red flag list. This guy might very well encompass every red flag I’ve ever imagined. He’s beyond unappealing. I can’t believe any woman would fall for him. Yes, he’s mainstream attractive and a giant of a man, but everything else about him is so…unsexy.
What’s with his facial hair? He can’t even shave properly. Women could never get away with being so improperly groomed.
I narrow my eyes at this disgusting, unhygienic beast. “I feel like your birth certificate is an apology from the condom factory.”
He has a smug look on his face. “Sugar lips, I’m so well-equipped that when I was born, I got a girth certificate.”
What. A. Douchebag.
Our drinks arrive and there’s more conversation, but I can’tfocus on anything other than the fact that Daylen Humblecut may be the most annoying man in existence. He loves to be the center of attention, constantly saying outrageous, immature things. He even stands and finds some perverted way to loudly announce he’s going to the bathroom. I don’t think this man has fully evolved. He’s like a caveman.
Fortunately, he and Vance disappear like schoolgirls running to gossip in the bathroom. While I’d love to turn my attention to Champ, I instead turn to Sulley and see her looking like a deer in headlights. She’s pale, and her skin looks clammy. There’s something about Vance that clearly upset her. I squeeze her arm as I lean over and whisper, “Are you okay?”
She nods, but I can tell she’s not managing very well. She almost looks scared. I think she’s physically shaking.
With their attention elsewhere, everyone else at the table starts laughing. I must have missed the punchline. Layla kisses Presley’s cheek. “This is why I married you, mi amor. You’re so funny.”
He nuzzles his nose into her. “I thought you married me because I’m good in bed?”
She smiles at him. “See, you’re funny.”
