“Looks like you boys had a long day!” Leona says loudly and grins at me. I don’t smile back. “Next pitchers are on me.”
It makes everyone smile happily, each of them pouring copious amounts of beer into their glasses, Leona joining in.
I feel like I should as well. Be one of the guys. But I’m not. I’m different. Always have been.
And I don’t like beer. I prefer wine and sweet cocktails.
I push out of my seat, and Leona winks at me. “Where you going, handsome?”
I hold back an aggressive eye roll and manage a smile instead. “The bar.”
And then, without a backward glance, I head exactly where I said I was going. If I’m going to get through tonight, I’m going to need a heavy, very strong pour.
I push my way through a few people crowding my intended target, but they huff and move out of the way. When I finally sidle up to the bar top, I let out a long sigh.
“Long day?” a low voice says next to me.
I turn my gaze to a large man standing next to me. He grins, showing off slightly crooked teeth and pink apple cheeks. Not intimidating in the least. More like a giant teddy bear.
“Yeah. Long fucking life.”
He lets out a booming laugh, causing heads to turn.
“Name’s Tater. What’s yours?” He holds out a thick hand, and I put mine inside it.
“Arbor.”
He gives it a hearty shake and then lets go. “Nice to meet you, man.”
“Nice to meet you, too. Interesting nickname. Where did it come from?”
“Um, that’s my name. Mom said I looked like a potato when I was born. Called me Tater ever since.”
I blink at him, and those pink cheeks darken. “Guess not much has changed,” he says, slightly abashed.
I shake my head, turning my gaze to all the bottles lining the shelves behind the bar.
“No, you don’t look like a potato, Tater. You look like a nice ear of corn.”
That makes him laugh again, heads once more turning, and I find myself giggling. I think I’d much rather spend my time with this large beast of a man than watch Leona flirt with Glenn all night.
I’d rather gouge out my eyeballs, in fact.
Finally, the bartender makes his way up to me, and I place my order for the daiquiri I spotted on the online menu.
“Make it a heavy pour, please.”
He nods and begins making it with a flick of his wrist and a twist of his palm. Before I know it, I’ve opened a tab and am sipping on the strawberry sensation, feeling the alcohol hit my system almost instantly.
“He gave you the good stuff,” Tater says as I gulp my drink.
“He did?”
“Yep. Saw it. Must think you’re cute.” He leans in and winks at me. “And you smell good, too.”
That makes my head spin. “You really think that?”
“Yep. Smell like marshmallows.”
