the bar and sat down.
Spinning around to face the bar, he glanced at the bartenders. Like the town, the tenders of this bar shifted with the seasons. This time, however, Jacob’s chest tightened, his stomach fluttered, and he felt his mouth go dry. There, speaking to a couple men at the end of the bar was one of the most captivating women he’d ever seen.
She was full figured, her curves pronounced and luscious. She held herself with a confident grace untouched by anyone else in this town. Even in a city filled with hundreds of thousands of people, the quality was a rarity. Long brown hair fell along her shoulders in waves, and deep blue eyes shined from behind a pair of rectangular glasses.
“Get you a drink?” a man asked.
Jacob forced his attention away from the woman for only a moment, just long enough to look at the man standing in front of him and say, “I’ll wait for her, thanks.”
The man gave him a wry smirk, knocked on the bar, and went over to speak with the woman. He said a few quiet words and pointed in Jacob’s direction. The surprised look on her face filled Jacob with a sense of pride and warmth unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Humans were inherently below the shifters. It wasn’t racism or classism; they simply didn’t live as long, couldn’t learn as many lessons. By nature, they were less. This woman, though, made Jacob feel as if he was unworthy of her. She finished making drinks for the two men, took their money, and then came over to Jacob.
“You wanted to talk to me or something?”
Oh God, what was he going to say? He’d worked up a conversation starter, but now, faced with her, his mind was completely blank. “Beer.”
It was so stupid, but it was the only thing to make it out of his mouth.
“All right,” she said with a laugh. “We have that. What kind would you like?”
Oh God! What kind of beer did he like? As casually as possible, he gave a shrug and said, “Whatever you have on tap.”
She gave a tight-lipped smile and looked as though she were trying to not laugh. She grabbed a frosted mug, stuck it under a tap and filled it. Blowing off the head, she set it on the bar. Jacob put down a $5 bill.
“You know,” she said as she worked the till, “Matt could’ve gotten that for you.”
“I know,” Jacob said, taking a sip. He didn’t know what kind of beer this was, but it was disgusting. He tried to keep his face straight. “I wanted you.”
He was mid-sip when he realized how he’d left that sentence. Nearly choking on the beer, he added quickly, “To get it. My beer. To get the beer, I mean. You just seemed like you knew what you were doing.”
“Yeah,” she said with a small laugh, “I’m a real wiz with a tap. You good here, then?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Jacob said, shaking his head and looking down at the bar as he took another sip. As the woman walked away, he called out, “I’m Jacob, by the way.”
“Wendy,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at him. “Enjoy your beer.”
Jacob smiled and held the beer up in a faux salute. That was going to take some effort to recover from.
Chapter 2: Quiet Night at The Bar
It’d been a week since Mr. Beer-on-Tap first came into the bar. Wendy punched in for her shift and began wiping down the bar. This early in the evening, only the most desperate and alcoholic regulars were in the bar. The TV in the corner played low, but there was so little noise going on that she could actually hear it over the occasional clink of a mug hitting a table.
As Wendy wrung out the bar juice into the sink, Marcy, one of the other bartenders that worked the day shift walked by. “Your boyfriend came in again last night.”
“What?” Wendy turned to face her.
“Yep,” Marcy said as she pulled her oversized purse out from under the bar. “Came in, asked about you. When I told him you weren’t working, he asked when you’d be in again.”
“And what did you tell him?” Wendy asked, putting a hand
Spinning around to face the bar, he glanced at the bartenders. Like the town, the tenders of this bar shifted with the seasons. This time, however, Jacob’s chest tightened, his stomach fluttered, and he felt his mouth go dry. There, speaking to a couple men at the end of the bar was one of the most captivating women he’d ever seen.
She was full figured, her curves pronounced and luscious. She held herself with a confident grace untouched by anyone else in this town. Even in a city filled with hundreds of thousands of people, the quality was a rarity. Long brown hair fell along her shoulders in waves, and deep blue eyes shined from behind a pair of rectangular glasses.
“Get you a drink?” a man asked.
Jacob forced his attention away from the woman for only a moment, just long enough to look at the man standing in front of him and say, “I’ll wait for her, thanks.”
The man gave him a wry smirk, knocked on the bar, and went over to speak with the woman. He said a few quiet words and pointed in Jacob’s direction. The surprised look on her face filled Jacob with a sense of pride and warmth unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Humans were inherently below the shifters. It wasn’t racism or classism; they simply didn’t live as long, couldn’t learn as many lessons. By nature, they were less. This woman, though, made Jacob feel as if he was unworthy of her. She finished making drinks for the two men, took their money, and then came over to Jacob.
“You wanted to talk to me or something?”
Oh God, what was he going to say? He’d worked up a conversation starter, but now, faced with her, his mind was completely blank. “Beer.”
It was so stupid, but it was the only thing to make it out of his mouth.
“All right,” she said with a laugh. “We have that. What kind would you like?”
Oh God! What kind of beer did he like? As casually as possible, he gave a shrug and said, “Whatever you have on tap.”
She gave a tight-lipped smile and looked as though she were trying to not laugh. She grabbed a frosted mug, stuck it under a tap and filled it. Blowing off the head, she set it on the bar. Jacob put down a $5 bill.
“You know,” she said as she worked the till, “Matt could’ve gotten that for you.”
“I know,” Jacob said, taking a sip. He didn’t know what kind of beer this was, but it was disgusting. He tried to keep his face straight. “I wanted you.”
He was mid-sip when he realized how he’d left that sentence. Nearly choking on the beer, he added quickly, “To get it. My beer. To get the beer, I mean. You just seemed like you knew what you were doing.”
“Yeah,” she said with a small laugh, “I’m a real wiz with a tap. You good here, then?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Jacob said, shaking his head and looking down at the bar as he took another sip. As the woman walked away, he called out, “I’m Jacob, by the way.”
“Wendy,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at him. “Enjoy your beer.”
Jacob smiled and held the beer up in a faux salute. That was going to take some effort to recover from.
Chapter 2: Quiet Night at The Bar
It’d been a week since Mr. Beer-on-Tap first came into the bar. Wendy punched in for her shift and began wiping down the bar. This early in the evening, only the most desperate and alcoholic regulars were in the bar. The TV in the corner played low, but there was so little noise going on that she could actually hear it over the occasional clink of a mug hitting a table.
As Wendy wrung out the bar juice into the sink, Marcy, one of the other bartenders that worked the day shift walked by. “Your boyfriend came in again last night.”
“What?” Wendy turned to face her.
“Yep,” Marcy said as she pulled her oversized purse out from under the bar. “Came in, asked about you. When I told him you weren’t working, he asked when you’d be in again.”
“And what did you tell him?” Wendy asked, putting a hand
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