When a week passed and John didn’t hear back from Carter, he was disappointed but not surprised. The werewolf had been very clear that he hadn’t been looking for anything more than a fuckbuddy, and John knew that he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.
“Fuck him,” Mike said, knocking his elbow into John’s side. They were at the bar near the station where John and the rest of his friends usually met when they went out after work, though so far only he and Mike had made it.
“What?” John asked. He blinked up from his phone, sliding it into his jeans pocket and giving Mike his full attention.
“The guy with the big dick,” Mike said, like it was obvious. “If he hasn’t called you back, just say fuck him. There are plenty of gay fish in the sea.”
John smiled, taking a sip of his beer and looking out at the room.
“He said he wasn’t looking for anything more than a casual hookup, so it’s not like he wasn’t upfront about it.”
Mike scoffed.
“Anyone would be lucky to have you. If I were gay I would be so into you, like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Thanks,” John said, grinning. Mike was on his fourth beer and he was getting pretty tipsy.
“No problem.” Mike clapped John on the back, looking out at the bar with a searching expression.
“Looking for something?” John asked.
“Hot girls for me and hot guys for you,” Mike said, eyes scanning the people lined up at the bar. John and Mike were sitting in a booth, giving them a great view of the room. It was a little too big for the two of them, but the staff knew them and that more people might come, so they weren’t asked to move.
“I’m good, thanks,” John said. He wasn’t pining for Carter, but he wasn’t in the mood to find someone else, either.
“No, no,” Mike objected. “Look at that guy over there. He’s been looking at you. Go over and say hi.”
Mike angled his head toward the far end of the bar, and sure enough there was a man standing there with his eyes casually trained on John.
“He’s not really my type,” John said, making an effort not to catch the guy’s eye.
“What? But he’s so cute!” Mike objected. “Look at his little button up shirt!”
John rolled his eyes. The guy sending him looks was pretty, but far too much of a twink for John’s taste. He didn’t look like the kind of man that could manhandle someone—or even lift them off the ground.
“He’s cute, but cute isn’t my type.”
Mike sighed. “Fine. I’ll keep my eye out for a big manly man.”
John laughed, leaning his elbows on the table and taking a sip of his beer. He looked out at the bar—not looking for guys—and caught an attractive woman staring in his direction. Her eyes met his, and she gave a little nod in Mike’s direction.
Rude. There was no way she could know that John wasn’t straight, but then maybe he wasn’t sending out signals that he was available. The same definitely couldn’t be said for Mike. He was broadcasting his eagerness to hook up like a neon sign.
John gave her a nod and a smile back, turning to Mike.
“There’s a girl at the bar who’s into you.”
“What?” Mike’s head swiveled around, looking up and down the bar like a dog searching for a promised treat.
“The one in the blue dress, to the left of the bartender,” John said.
“Really?” Mike asked, swallowing and sounding nervous. “How can you tell?”
“Trust me. Just go talk to her—and don’t mention your cock until she brings up sex. Women don’t like guys that talk about their equipment.”
“I wouldn’t!” Mike protested. John just shot him a look. Mike sighed. “Fine, I’ll be my usual charming self.”
“That should work,” John agreed. Mike brightened at the implied compliment and pushed his way out of the booth, crossing the bar and walking up to the woman. He looked adorably flustered, and John was reminded that for all his bluster Mike wasn’t much of a lothario.
