“Monkey Pub?” I suggest.
“Yeah, that works.”
“I’ll text you later then.”
“All right, man. I’ll catch you when you get back.”
I spent the rest of my time with my mom, hanging out and taking it easy. It’s always good to see her and catch up, although we talk on the phone often. She’s always sad to see me leave. I know she was hoping I would move back to Oregon after I graduated college, but Seattle is my home. I love it.
When I get back in town, I head to Monkey Pub to meet Gavin. The lot is packed as I pull in to park. Walking in, the crowd is thick, and there are a few drunken college girls on stage, murdering a song in karaoke.
“Ryan,” I hear Gavin holler, and when I spot him by the bar, I make my way over.
“Mel, what are you doing here?” I ask, but before she can answer, I catch her husband, Zane. “Shit, man. I haven’t seen you in forever,” I say to him as I clap his shoulder.
“Busy with the band. Things are finally starting to take off.”
“God, don’t get him started,” Mel complains before she downs a shot.
“Fill me in,” I encourage, and he proceeds to tell me that his band has been offered a contract for a recording deal.
“No shit? That’s great,” I tell him.
“Thanks. We’re pretty stoked.”
When I see the irritation in Mel’s eyes, I question, “What’s got you so pissy?”
“Zane forgot to mention that he would have to move to L.A.”
“You’d think she’d be happy, but I can’t get my woman on board to go to California,” he tells me as he wraps his arm around her.
“I love Seattle. All my family is here,” she responds.
“You guys will work it out. For better or worse, or some shit like that, right?” I laugh.
“Right,” she sighs, not happy about the situation.
Turning around, I shout down the bar for a beer, and when the bartender gives me a nod, I take a seat next to Gavin.
“What did you do today?” I ask as he drinks his beer.
“Just work. Shit never ends.”
“Dude, you love work. Don’t give me that crap,” I joke.
He laughs and says, “Not gonna lie, it’s a good gig. I’m gonna go check out a new band the label is showing interest in on Thursday. Wanna tag along?”
“Yeah,” I say as the bartender hands me my beer. Gavin has been working for Sub Pop Records for the past few years, so we hit up a lot of concerts.
He turns to a couple of girls that walk up and stand next to him as they wait to order drinks. Taking a quick look back at me, he shoots me a wink, and I laugh at him. When he turns back to them, he says, in tacky Gavin form, “Hey, ladies.”
I sit back and drink my beer. Mel and Zane are off talking to friends, but when Gavin nudges me and says, “I got one for you,” I turn around to see a tall, curvy redhead smiling at me.
Giving a slight nod, I say, “You go to college here?” Small talk—it’s almost annoying to me because if I do too much of it, it makes me feel like a dick for possibly giving girls the impression that I’m interested in more than just a fleeting hook-up.
“Uh huh. Education major,” she tells me with a thick Southern accent, and I can’t control the chuckle that slips out. “What about you?”
Is she kidding? “College was a few years back for me.”
As she nods her head, she says, “Oh.” Naïve. “So, what do you do . . .?” she trails off, not knowing my name.
“Ryan.”
“Right.”
God, this is painful. “I run a bar off campus,” I tell her.
“Cool.”
Looking over at Gavin, he’s staring at the redhead and shaking his head. Yeah, I got the ditz outta the two, that’s for sure.
“You need a drink?” I offer, and when she smiles and nods, I turn to get the bartender’s attention. “What do you like?”
“Vodka.”
“Shots?” I ask.
“Mmm hmm.”
I shoot her a smile, and I know I’m in when she smiles back, biting her lower lip. I order four shots, and we waste little time knocking them back. We sit there as time passes, and she talks my ear off about school and moving up here from Oklahoma. I half pay attention but make sure I nod to give her the impression that I’m keeping up.
Her hand grips my knee when she leans in and begins talking closely into my ear as the bar grows louder the later it gets. Brushing her hair behind her shoulder, I let my fingers graze along her neck, and she shifts to look at me, no longer talking, just staring. When her hand tightens on my knee, I lean in and kiss her, tasting the alcohol and willingness as she moves her lips with mine.
She’s not hesitant, but eager, so when I tug her hair, she moans into my mouth. Dragging her lips to my ear, she whispers, “Wanna get outta here?”
This one seems like she could be clingy. Not wanting to go to my place, and being tired after the drive back from Oregon, I lay it out there for her. “Car?”
She pulls back, looking at me with question in her eyes, and I explain, “I just got back in from being out of town. I’m tired.”
When she doesn’t respond, I ask, “That a problem?”
It takes a second, but eventually she shakes her head, and when I stand up, I see Gavin.
“You heading out?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m gonna walk . . . umm . . .”
I look at the girl when she says, “Mary.”
“Huh?” I question.
“My name. It’s Mary.”
I’m an ass. I turn back to Gavin and quickly tell him, “I’m gonna walk Mary out.”
I take her hand and lead her out into the rainy night to my jeep. Not wanting to get my ass arrested, I go for the back seat, and she hops in behind me. She’s on me quick, kissing me and running her hands up my shirt. I return the gesture and grab her large tits when she begins undoing my pants. Tugging them down, she leans over and takes me in her mouth.
“Shit,” I exhale as I fist her hair and take control over her. Selfish? Yeah, I’m selfish. Escaping for my moment, not thinking. Enjoying. All thoughts vanishing from my mind. This is my vice. It used to be drugs. I rolled on X when I was in high school, but this, well this is just my version of a healthier release.
Zipping up my pants, she runs her fingers through my hair. This is the part I hate. I turn cold to make it clear that this wasn’t anything more than what it just was.
“Thanks.”
“Thanks?”
Opening the door, I step out and hold my hand out for her. “Like I said, I’m tired.”
She hops down and hesitantly says, “You wanna call me sometime?”
“I don’t do the whole girlfriend thing.”
She nods her head, and my guilt appears as she turns to walk back into the bar without saying anything else. I take a moment and enjoy the rain that’s falling, but when I hear my name being called, I turn around to see a familiar blonde walking my way from across the lot.
“Gina,” she says, answering my unspoken question, and I suddenly remember the girl I had in my office a few days ago. “What are you doing out here in the rain?” she asks as she leans up against my car.
“Nothing. About to head home.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
She takes me by surprise when she shoves her hand in my back pocket and finds my cell, pulling it out.
“What’re you doing?” I ask when she starts punching something into my phone.
“Storing my number,” she explains. She hands it to me when she’s done and says, “For when you don’t want to be alone,” before heading inside.