Shit.
“That’s not what I meant!” My cheeks burned with embarrassment as he smiled. “What I meant wasobviouslyyou’re—” I motioned to him and froze, unsure of how to articulate whatever the fuck I was trying to say. “My point is you’re not,notunattractive…fuck.” I rubbed my neck as he tried not to laugh at how ridiculous I was being. “What I’m trying to say is obviously you’re okay or else someone like Priscilla wouldn't have hit on you the other night. There.” I exhaled and slumped over on the bar in defeat.
Fuck. Why was that so hard?
Forsythe leaned over and brushed a strand of my hair from my face, clearing my vision enough for me to see him. “Stop hiding from me, little Lucille.”
I slowly tucked the hair behind my ear, rising as my spine straightened, keeping my eyes on him. As I went to open my mouth, a woman’s voice stopped me from speaking.
“Well, well, well.” She sucked her teeth.
Speak of the devil.
“Look what we have here.” Priscilla hopped into the seat next to me at the bar, tossing her wild black hair over her shoulder. “Little Lucille.” Her piercing blue eyes glared back at me as her red lips raised into a devious smile. I stared at her, wondering if Forsythe remembered her eyes because he liked them.
My eyes aren’t pretty like hers. They’re dull and boring. Ugh, why do I even fucking care?
I cleared my throat. “Don’t you have anything else better to do than bug me?”
Priscilla pushed me lightly. “Self-centered much?” She addressed the bartender and ordered her usual fruity drink before turning back to speak to me. “I’m not here for you, little reject.” She poked me with her long nail. “No, I’m here forhim.”Her deadly eyes moved past me and landed on Forsythe with a sinister smile. “Hey there, cowboy.” She wiggled her fingers at Forsythe, laying the charm on thick. “I was wondering when I’d run into you again.”
What the hell is even happening right now?
He smiled as if all was right and nodded to her. “Priscilla.”
She squealed, making me jump. “I love the way you say my name. But don’t you think it’s a little unfair that you know my name, but I don’t know yours?” The bartender handed her the fruity little cocktail which she immediately began to sip on.
“His name is Forsythe,” I spat the words out. “And he was having a conversation withme, so if you don’t mind?—”
Priscilla laughed. “Well that must’ve been boring as hell!” She plucked the cherry from her drink, focusing so intensely on Forsythe, and biting it free from the stem. “How old are you, cowboy?” she asked.
I looked at him, waiting to see if he’d bother replying. If he did, it must mean he was interested in her…right?
“Forty-five.”
Fuck this.
“Bartender.” I flicked my fingers to get the man’s attention. “Three tequila shots.” He nodded, making them right away.
Forsythe leaned over and whispered along my ear, making me tingle. “You really think you oughta be drinking?”
“Pffft.”
The bartender placed the three shots in front of me.
Priscilla reached for one. “My. Three shots? I guess you want us all to party together. How generous of you, little Lucille?—”
I slapped her hand away and grabbed the glass, shooting it back. “These aren’t for you.” I quickly shot the second one back, grabbing the third.
Forsythe grabbed my wrist. “Easy, viper.”
I glared at him and leaned forward, tipping the shot out and onto my tongue. The tequila burned and made my face tighten, but I didn’t care. I wanted to forget this whole fucking exchange. I wanted to piss him off.
“Whoops.” I snatched my arm back and slammed the empty glass down onto the bar. Forsythe’s smile had completely faded.
Good.
Priscilla scoffed and snorted. “Good lord, Lucille. Messy much?” She twirled a strand of her midnight hair. “Hey, cowboy.” She leaned over the bar to speak across to Forsythe, pressing her breasts against it. “Why don’t you and I take this conversation to a private table?” Her eyes shot to me. “Away from unwanted guests.”
