I don’t then I’m going to be fucked. Not literally, but I wish. I just feel like he’ll get with someone else and then there’ll never be a chance. Not that there should be, I remind myself, and take a deep breath before leaning forward and finally getting to work.
“Scott… You’re killing me.”
No , a voice says. You’re killing yourself . Forget about it .
Chapter 2
Scott
Hop into the cab, head down Broadway to the village, and throw the driver a hundred. That’s how my Friday nights usually are, and tonight’s no exception. I step out into the brisk air and survey the scene. It’s busy tonight, just how I like it. I’m with my friend Brett and we decided to change things up for the evening. Rather than go to the boring clubs in Midtown East, we thought we’d try a more juvenile crowd for a change.
In other words, we thought we’d mingle with girls who don’t have that much money. Might be fun to be with a chick who’s not a stuck up brat for a change. Hopefully they’re more fun in bed.
“Drago’s?” Brett asks.
“Sure. They’re all the same, aren’t they?”
Bret fires up a cigarette and slings his arm around casually between puffs like he’s trying to look cool. I feel like we overdressed for this area, but oh well. I’m not wearing a suit or anything, but my sweater alone cost two grand if that gives you any idea. Maybe no one will be able to tell, at least I hope not.
The clubs jam packed with ravers and drunk college girls. It doesn’t appeal to me, but Brett’s a moron and he might like that sort of thing. I glance over at him and judging by the big grin on his face and the ‘ it’s Christmas!’ excitement to his eyes, he does. I smirk and head to the bar.
“Whiskey sour.” I say loudly, but the bartender winces and cups her ear. She’s cute – mid twenties and looks like she works out. She’s got a sleeve of ink and it looks well done. I’m not one for tattoos, but occasionally I get the itching for a freaky chic. Perhaps this girl’s the one I should be focusing on laying tonight.
“What?” She winces harder.
“ Whiskey sour .” I practically scream.
She brings out the liquor and makes the tasty concoction, and then mumbles something to me, probably the price. I don’t pay much attention to prices anymore. I hand her a hundred and wink at her, then walk off.
“Did you use the line?” Brett asks excitedly. He’s standing in the corner puffing on an electronic cigarette. He’s fidgety and shaking. He gave up alcohol two weeks ago because he was a drunk. Rich or poor, a drunk’s still a drunk. And Brett was the biggest rich drunk I’d ever seen.
“What line?” I pretend not to know what he’s talking about.
“ Keep the change .”
“No, I’m not a douchebag so I didn’t say that.” I smile and sip the whiskey sour. It’s damn good and I close my eyes before downing it and letting the alcohol take its effect. After a few seconds I open them and see the bar in a whole new light. I’m not a lightweight, but I haven’t had a drink since last Saturday and the bartender must have made it extra strong for me. I glance over in her direction and see her smiling at me. I wink at her and raise the glass, but she shakes her head and looks away, still smiling.
“Too easy.” I say.
“Who?”
“The bartender. I could fuck her in a second if I wanted to.”
“Bullshit.”
“Try me.”
“Prove it, then. What are you waiting for?” Brett laughs and puffs on his e-cigarette like some kind of massive addict. He blows out the vapor and stares at me before raising both hands palms out, “Well?”
It is too easy, but what the hell? She’s got a gorgeous ass on her and some meat on her bones. I like that. She reminds me of my stepsister.
Fuck , did I really just think that?
I shake my head and sip my drink. Brett throws his hands down and mumbles something like ‘whatever ’ and resumes his
“Scott… You’re killing me.”
No , a voice says. You’re killing yourself . Forget about it .
Chapter 2
Scott
Hop into the cab, head down Broadway to the village, and throw the driver a hundred. That’s how my Friday nights usually are, and tonight’s no exception. I step out into the brisk air and survey the scene. It’s busy tonight, just how I like it. I’m with my friend Brett and we decided to change things up for the evening. Rather than go to the boring clubs in Midtown East, we thought we’d try a more juvenile crowd for a change.
In other words, we thought we’d mingle with girls who don’t have that much money. Might be fun to be with a chick who’s not a stuck up brat for a change. Hopefully they’re more fun in bed.
“Drago’s?” Brett asks.
“Sure. They’re all the same, aren’t they?”
Bret fires up a cigarette and slings his arm around casually between puffs like he’s trying to look cool. I feel like we overdressed for this area, but oh well. I’m not wearing a suit or anything, but my sweater alone cost two grand if that gives you any idea. Maybe no one will be able to tell, at least I hope not.
The clubs jam packed with ravers and drunk college girls. It doesn’t appeal to me, but Brett’s a moron and he might like that sort of thing. I glance over at him and judging by the big grin on his face and the ‘ it’s Christmas!’ excitement to his eyes, he does. I smirk and head to the bar.
“Whiskey sour.” I say loudly, but the bartender winces and cups her ear. She’s cute – mid twenties and looks like she works out. She’s got a sleeve of ink and it looks well done. I’m not one for tattoos, but occasionally I get the itching for a freaky chic. Perhaps this girl’s the one I should be focusing on laying tonight.
“What?” She winces harder.
“ Whiskey sour .” I practically scream.
She brings out the liquor and makes the tasty concoction, and then mumbles something to me, probably the price. I don’t pay much attention to prices anymore. I hand her a hundred and wink at her, then walk off.
“Did you use the line?” Brett asks excitedly. He’s standing in the corner puffing on an electronic cigarette. He’s fidgety and shaking. He gave up alcohol two weeks ago because he was a drunk. Rich or poor, a drunk’s still a drunk. And Brett was the biggest rich drunk I’d ever seen.
“What line?” I pretend not to know what he’s talking about.
“ Keep the change .”
“No, I’m not a douchebag so I didn’t say that.” I smile and sip the whiskey sour. It’s damn good and I close my eyes before downing it and letting the alcohol take its effect. After a few seconds I open them and see the bar in a whole new light. I’m not a lightweight, but I haven’t had a drink since last Saturday and the bartender must have made it extra strong for me. I glance over in her direction and see her smiling at me. I wink at her and raise the glass, but she shakes her head and looks away, still smiling.
“Too easy.” I say.
“Who?”
“The bartender. I could fuck her in a second if I wanted to.”
“Bullshit.”
“Try me.”
“Prove it, then. What are you waiting for?” Brett laughs and puffs on his e-cigarette like some kind of massive addict. He blows out the vapor and stares at me before raising both hands palms out, “Well?”
It is too easy, but what the hell? She’s got a gorgeous ass on her and some meat on her bones. I like that. She reminds me of my stepsister.
Fuck , did I really just think that?
I shake my head and sip my drink. Brett throws his hands down and mumbles something like ‘whatever ’ and resumes his
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