“Oh my God,” she said, pulling me. “Everyone, this is Stacey. She’s here from Oklahoma. First time in the big city. She’s awesome. You’re going to fucking love her.”
The sheer hatred in that woman’s gaze outside had left a knot of anxiety in my throat; I looked up at all of Tamara’s friends, and suddenly the idea of a character examination and introductions seemed like the absolute last thing I was interested in. Not when it felt like I was still trying to knock hateful spider webs off my whole body.
“I need a couple of shots,” I said, in Tamara’s ear. “Then I’ll come back and make friends.”
“Bar’s that-a-way. Bring me a beer when you come back,” Tamara said.
I nodded, turning, and bobbed my way through the crowds, pushing gently, waiting awkwardly for shuffling couples and conglomerations of people stuck standing and talking in knots to disperse. Finally, annoyed, I pushed through and gasped as I clawed a pathway to the bar. I waved down the bartender after he ignored me the first few go-rounds.
“Two tequilas,” I said, loud against the noise of the bar.
A warm hand grabbed my shoulder, and a voice was in my ear.
“One of those for me?”
I jumped, despite myself. The man from the light outside was standing here, looking directly at me, his eyes liquid amber and his sculpted bronze face utterly seductive. A light buzz came over me at the sight of his eyes, a buzz I tried to push gently back on, tried to flatten and tuck away down below, but it still floated around in my head like static vibrating my temples. My heart was beating in my ears.
“You drink tequila?” I asked, for lack of anything better to ask.
“What kind of Mexican doesn’t drink tequila?” he asked.
“I can’t answer that question legally,” I said.
He laughed.
“Name’s Eddie,” he said, extending a paw. I reached out and grabbed his hand. There was a cold, waxy, viselike feel to his grip at first—and then something else, some warm sharp inner heat that throbbed like so much magma coursing through his veins. I felt a flush of blood rush to my skin and pulled away. Oh. I hadn’t had it this bad in a long time.
What’s wrong with you? I thought. You heard what happened outside. This guy is just the usual type, you know the ones you like, the ones you get your hopes up about, the ones so handsome they think they’re the whole package, and they keep ‘accidentally’ falling into every girl they see…
I bit my lip and wrenched my attention away, face staring pointedly at the bartender’s back. The vibration was less loud.
“My name’s Stacey,” I said, after a minute.
“You mind if I sit with you for a bit? First round’s on me.”
His voice. Oh boy. It was like soft sand slipping through fingertips at the beach. Just enough of an edge to scratch, but still so smooth…
“I saw you with your girlfriend outside,” I said.
“Oh, you saw that?” He had the grace to look bashful. His hand went up to the back of his head, and he fiddled with his hair a bit as if to smooth it down. “Ah, look, I know everyone says this, but that wasn’t what it looked like.”
“You cheat on her?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
“Then what?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. “It was just a mistake in communication.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “She thought you two were an item, and you actually weren’t, even though she’d been hinting around about it for a while, and you maybe or maybe not let her feel like it sometimes and didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to mess with what you guys had.”
He shook his head, a grin spreading over his face.
“I’m telling you, it’s not like that.” He was protesting, but I could tell he was bashful. I must have hit the nail on the head, and he was trying not to be impressed about it.
“Then what is it like, cowboy?”
He shook his head and laughed.
