We check into a hotel on the nicer side of town. Colt uses his corporate credit card to get us a two-bedroom suite on the hotel’s top floor. When we step into the room, I take a moment to look around. There’s floor to ceiling windows in the living room and the furniture is all pale blues and creams. It’s nice.
I turn to Colt, but it’s obvious his shitty mood is still firmly in place. He slams his duffle bag down onto an arm chair, swearing under his breath.
I roll my eyes and take a deep breath. I don't understand why he’s so worked up. Everything will turn out fine with his precious car. I get that things didn’t go as planned, but we’ll be back on the road tomorrow. Maybe he needs to blow off some steam. Guys like him can’t go from being all revved up to completely cooled down so quickly. An idea takes shape in my mind. “Come on, we’re going out.”
He searches my eyes. “What are you talking about? We just got here.” His voice has a sharp edge to it.
I turn my back, walking toward the door. “We need to get you laid.”
He inhales sharply. “Huh?”
I face him again, my hand still on the door knob. “This is just like Piper’s little brother, he’s crabby when he’s hungry. You’re being crabby right now. Therefore, we need to satisfy your…appetite.” I pull open the door and though he hesitates for just a moment, I can tell he’ll come.
Despite acting like he was against my idea, Colt grins as we step into the elevator. We ride to the ground floor in silence.
Once we reach the hotel lobby Colt hands his ticket to the valet and a moment later, we step outside as the silver sedan pulls to a stop in front of us. Before Colt has a chance to open my door, I lunge for it and hop inside. I don’t need myself getting even more confused about our arrangement. We’re coworkers. That’s it. I desperately need to cling to that perspective. He shakes his head, chuckling under his breath and walks around to his side of the car.
A few minutes later, Colt parks on the street in front of a bar called Whiskey Dicks. I glance up at the sign, then back at him. Seriously?
“Remember this was your idea. I’m just going along with it.” He opens his door and unfolds his tall frame from the confines of the car.
I follow him up to the door where a bouncer is checking IDs. I hesitate. “Colt…” I turn to him and whisper.
“Hush.” He puts his hand on the small of my back, and propels me toward the door. He skillfully slips the bouncer a twenty, and the doors are pulled open for us.
Oh.
Once inside, the smell of beer and cheap perfume overwhelm me. I stay close to Colt’s side. He walks toward the back of the bar, ignoring the stares being directed our way. He acts like he’s been here a thousand times before and settles at a semi-secluded high top table in the corner.
Once we’re seated, I have the chance to really look around. The place is pretty small, one long bar running the length of the room, with a few scattered tables and a mess of stools. The crowd here is young, well, not our age young, but appropriate bar-age young. A cluster of guys mill around a pool table near us, a few girls sway to the too-loud music on the dance floor on the far side of the room. And people everywhere stand around talking, sipping drinks, and laughing out loud.
Colt’s eyes are roaming, just like mine, but for a different reason. Once he spots the waitress, he waves her over. She saunters up to our table, her eyes full of lust for Colt. “What can I getcha?”
Colt turns to me. Reluctantly, the waitress’ eyes follow. Now they are both looking at me. My mind goes completely blank. I’ve never been to a bar and ordered for myself before. Beer? Wine? Liquor? But what kind? I was about to ask for a water when Colt comes to my rescue.
“We’ll both take a vodka tonic. Belvedere if you have it.”
She nods once and turns on her heel.
“Thanks,” I mumble once she’s gone.
Colt nods, his eyes scanning the crowd. I watch him scope out the girls, wondering which is his type. The waitress returns with our drinks, and I test a sip. It’s bitter and stiff. I choke down it down, wondering how people actually enjoy this. Colt removes the straw from his glass, and takes a gulp, draining half its contents.
I force down another swig, then slide the drink away from me. “So anyone catching your eye?”
Colt looks up, like I’ve interrupted some private thought. “Are we seriously doing this?” his voice hints at boredom.
“What about her?” I nod toward the bleach blonde swaying her hips alone on the center of the dance floor. She’s in skin tight jeans torn at the knees and a hot pink halter top. Just trashy enough for a one night stand with being overtly skanky. A perfect choice for him.
He pulls his eyebrows together and shakes his head.
“What’s wrong with her?”
He glares at me. It’s strange how expressive he is without speaking a single word. He takes another drink, draining the rest of his glass. “We are not picking out my next victim together.” He offers a sly smile. Oh, this boy is trouble. With a capital T.
I stir the ice cubes in mine with the straw. “So who’s your choice?”
His eyes fix on mine and stay there for what feels like too long.
I roll my eyes. “Colt, I’m serious, this is why we’re here. We need to get you out of your shitty mood, and I’ve been around you long enough to know this is how it’s done.”
He finally drops his eyes from mine, and looks around. “Fine.” He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. I watch him scan the room. “Her.” He nods toward the bar.
I turn around to glance in that direction, trying not to be too obvious. The girl he’s looking at is a brunette with pretty, yet plain looks, jeans, sandals and a long sleeved T-shirt. She certainly doesn’t stand out amongst the overly made-up girls trying hard to get noticed. This girl is actively trying not to be noticed if you ask me. Very little make up, hair back in a low ponytail, nothing spectacular about her. She actually reminds me a lot of, well…me.
I reach for my drink and take another sip, fumbling with the straw. I don’t know what Colt sees in her, most guys probably wouldn’t give her a second glance, not with the busty blondes putting on a show on the dance floor.
“Her?” I double check, thinking I must have the wrong girl.
His eyes are back on me. He nods.
“Why her?” I take another sip. It’s not as bad once you get used to the taste. He takes the drink from my hand, his fingers brushing past mine.
“Not too much, little one.” He sets the drink down across the table from me.
I squint my eyes, glaring at him.
“She’s the only one in here, besides you, who looks like a nice, normal girl. No drama. No strange ulterior motives.”
I half expect him to add disease-free. I don’t know what to make of his comment, but suddenly I’m wishing I had my drink back to distract me. After a few moments, I recover. “So go talk to her.”
Colt looks bored. “You’re serious about this whole thing, aren’t you?”
“Uh, yeah. Obviously. Now go.” I shoo him from the table.
Colt shakes his head, but he’s grinning. He gets off his stool, looking in her direction.
I reach out for his arm, and feign a voice of concern. “You have protection, right son?”
He rolls his eyes and walks away. Of course he does. He’s probably wearing a condom at all times, just in case. “Have fun!” I call to him, playfully and watch his backside for a few moments. Unfortunately he turns and looks back and catches me looking. He chuckles and I can’t help but blush, knowing I was just caught checking out his behind.
It takes everything in me not to turn and watch him try to pick her up. I wonder what it would be like to have Colt’s attention like that.