“I’ll take your word for it,” Decker replies with a laugh.
My friends might love to give me shit about some of my more interesting hookup stories, but I don’t see any reason tooverthink things or doubt my decisions. If my partner and I both have a good time, then I have no regrets.
I’ve been in a bit of a slump this semester though. I haven’t actually hooked up with anyone since Harmony the weekend before classes started. I don’t know if it was getting another drink thrown in my face, or if my priorities have been more on school and lacrosse than usual, but I’ve been uncharacteristically picky when it comes to who I want to flirt with when we’ve gone out.
But Delilah’s teasing is always fun and low-pressure. I enjoy the banter too much to risk ruining it, and despite what I just said, hooking up with her isn’t high on my priority list. If something happens, cool. If it doesn’t, I’ll enjoy the exchanges for what they are. Probably for the best if it doesn’t anyway with how often I come here with the guys.
She finally cashes out the other customer and walks over to me. I smirk and offer her the same greeting I always do. “Hey there, Delilah.”
“Oh god, you again?” she replies dryly with an eye roll and a small grin.
“Don’t pretend like I’m not your favorite customer,” I respond playfully, leaning over the bar a bit so I can feel more like it’s just the two of us chatting.
“What do you want, Will? I have a lot of other people to get drinks for.”
“Getting right to business? I respect the hustle. I’ll take four shots of the nicest whiskey you have and a round of beers.”
“Hell yeah!” Cam shouts behind me. Nathan and Decker are both laughing, probably at my shitty flirting. Their lack of support doesn’t make this any less fun though. Delilah has long blonde hair pulled back in a clip, jeans that hug her ass, and a crop top that shows off her belly button ring. She’s really pretty, but if I’m being honest, I like her attitude more than her looks. Delilah’s funny, a little mean, and not easily impressed by me.
Sounds a bit like Porter.
I pause at that wayward thought because why am I comparing Porter to someone I’m flirting with? Nathan’s comment the other day about it looking like we were on a date when we were working on our assignment must’ve stuck with me more than I realized. I meant what I told him though. I wouldn’t give a shit if someone did think we were together, but never once in my twenty-one years have I thought about a man that way. He’s just a cool guy that I’d like to be friends with, but he didn’t have a great first impression of me, so I’m trying to convince him I’m not so bad. And the only way I can do that is by spending time with him and getting to know him.
Sure, he might be gay, but he definitely isn’t interested in me anyway. Which is good because I’m not interested in him either. Obviously.
I awkwardly pointed out that I’m straight to him and everything. Knowing what I do now, that conversation on the stairs at Bo’s makes me cringe even more.
Delilah starts pouring the shots on the bar in front of me, bringing me back to the present. When she’s done, I hand them off to my friends while she pours the beers.
“Thanks, Delilah.” I hand her my card once the drinks are all in front of me. “Keep it open, please.”
“Did that go exactly how you planned?” Decker jokes as she walks away to swipe it.
“Just wait, she’s totally into me,” I assure him with a grin. “This is just our thing.”
“Do you think she’d prefer to suck your toes or have you lick maple syrup off her body?” Cam teases.
“Oh, fuck off.” I laugh. “I think she’s more of a ‘we’re going to need safewords’ kind of person.”
“And that’s something you actively want to pursue?” Nathan deadpans.
“Hey, you know I’m down to try anything once,” I confirm.
“To you crazy fucks,” Decker says, holding up his shot. I laugh and raise mine along with the rest of the guys. We might give each other a hard time, but I’m lucky to have them all in my life, and I’m grateful that lacrosse brought us all together.
We grab our beers off the bar and snag a table to talk about the highlights of tonight’s game when someone yells, “Birthday shots for Porter!”
My head immediately whips around before my brain can catch up, and there he is, a shot in his hand, surrounded by a small group of people. He’s wearing eyeliner again, another crop top that shows off his tight stomach, and black jeans that sit a little low on his hips. Even across the bar I can see his cheeks are flushed red, his smile is bright, and he looks like he’s having the time of his life.
Porter holds up his shot, beaming at his friends, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m staring at him as he yells, “Thank you for making tonight the best birthday ever! Let’s get fucked up!” before tipping the glass back.
“Hell yeah, I love birthdays!” I announce to the guys as I decide I should get up and go say happy birthday to my new friend. What are the chances he’s at the same bar as me tonight celebrating? I’d bet it’s his twenty-first, too. The least I can do is buy him a drink.
“Where are you going?” Cam asks with a laugh.
“That’s my new friend I was telling you about! I need to go get him a shot.”
“Oh shit, should I come too? I want to meet him.”
