I think it’s very mature of us, I think to myself.
I toss my hair back and shake it out. It's long, and I love the dramatic sexy look, but I wish he could see me right now. Maybe I could send him a selfie later, let him know all that he’s missing out on by leaving my house to do lord knows what.
It will be worth a shot, but I don’t know how he will react. Maybe he will simply leave it unread. Or maybe it will rile him up enough he will spank me like he did before. I can’t help blushing when I think about it. That isn’t something I ever thought I would enjoy. But the burning in my stomach and my damp panties tell me I like it more than I could have ever imagined.
I decide I’m going to do it. I’m going to send him a picture he won’t be able to resist. I get more excited the more I think about it. But what should I send a picture of? Something that is thrilling. Maybe I could talk him into sending me a photo back of him wearing only his badge. That would be exciting. Oh no, maybe just the hat. I like this idea.
I walk to the closet and pull up my favorite pair of black stilettos. A girl needs to tower while she is at a club. Any creeps out there better back off because these are dangerous shoes. And I’m not afraid to kick someone where it counts if they get in my way.
Turning one more time to get a final look at myself, I can’t help but stare. I look freaking amazing. Yup, selfies are coming, and I am going to send him a boatload.
I turn my back to the mirror, arch my back, and do my best to look seductively over my shoulder. After taking the picture I pull it up on my phone and decide it isn’t sexy enough. So I hike the back of my dress up a little, just enough for my panties to peek out from underneath it and snap another picture.
Yes. Perfect.
I set my phone down and get ready for the next picture I have in mind. I pull down my dress a bit more in the front, so my cleavage is really showing. Then I fluff my hair and grab my phone before turning the camera around on it so I can see myself on the screen. I squeeze my arms together, so my chest looks perky, open my eyes wider, and suck my cheeks in a bit, and smile before snapping another picture. He’s not going to know what hit him when these pictures show up on his phone.
I’m going to make him understand just what he is missing at home, and what he stands to lose because I am one hell of a catch.
I quickly send the pictures to Kenton before grabbing my clutch and jogging down to my white Volvo. I have to congratulate myself and my ability to run like Electra in these heels. Honestly, this is something that should be taught in schools around the world. Why are high heels so high in the first place? I wonder, turning the ignition and driving away. Someone once said that it was to make it harder for women to run away, I can see that.
At the club
* * *
“Oh my god look at his face,” Charlie giggles, pointing out the hipster across the room. He’s kind of cute in a half nerdy kind of way with his heavy glasses and a perfectly tucked in shirt. He looks too clean for this club, so something tells me this is part of a long game. He likes to pretend that he is a thoughtful intelligent man of the world, but in reality, he’s just as desperate as every other Joe Dirt in this place. He will say anything to get them into his bed.
“Yeah, you know I’m just not feeling it,'' I say turning away from him and scanning the room. I don’t see anyone here that even remotely appeals to me. Which is kind of ridiculous. I am so hooked on Kenton that I can’t even take the time to absorb any of the men around me.
Charlie turns and points to another man. He’s a bad boy for sure, with his brown leather jacket. He definitely has the James Dean look to him. And normally I would totally go for that type, but once again I have images of a sexy beast in my head. It’s not entirely fair. I don’t understand how he is able to cling to me in this way. We haven’t been dating very long, yet I can’t get him out of my head. Which is even more ridiculous because of how little time we get to spend together. I’m going to have to find a way to remedy that. I think, turning back and facing Charlie.
“I don’t know, he’s OK.”
I see what the others are doing, as I sip my drink. I can’t remember what it’s called, but it tastes heavenly. Charlie had offered to buy us drinks, but it turned out that it wasn’t even necessary because the man behind the bar has a massive crush on her and didn’t bother carding me. I know that’s an idea that would have Kenton’s head spinning. He can be so uptight about these things, I really need to work on him and help him loosen up some more.
“You really don’t think that hipster guy is cute?” she asks, turning back to the glasses-wearing high fashion nerd.
“I mean he’s okay,” I say with a shrug, “but if you think he’s cute, you should definitely go talk to him.”
Even if I was remotely attracted to him, I could never go up and talk to him for myself. What I have with Kenton, whatever it is, is not worth a terrible lay in a bathroom or a one night stand. He probably isn’t anywhere near as mature, and definitely not even close to being as good in bed.
“No,” she whines, “I need you to talk to him for me because I’m too scared. She is clearly inebriated. I can’t remember the last time Charlie was scared of anything.
“What? You’re scared?” I ask in surprise. It boggles my mind that Charlie can even be remotely insecure with her stunning good looks and incredible charm.
“Charlie just to talk to him, if he doesn’t like you then he is an idiot and not worth your time,'' I say urging her on.
She really does look amazing in her sparkly blue dress and thigh-high boots. I have always been jealous of the way her long blonde hair falls down gracefully around her like an elf in my fantastical selection of books, maybe like in Lord of the Rings. And her green eyes, god, they remind me of jade. The very idea that a girl like her is even remotely insecure meant that there is little hope in the world for the rest of us. She is so completely perfect, and she doesn’t even know it. It makes me wonder if Kenton sees me as perfect, and only I don't know it.
Something tells me that if Kenton were here, he would have a stroke at the sight of his daughter. No man wants to think of his daughter having sex appeal. I wonder if there will ever be a time that he and I can go out like Charlie and her hipster across the way.
“Please,” she begs me again. “Just go talk to him for me, warm him up for me.”
“Your big green eyes look sad, and I hate seeing you sad.”
Even though she’s drunk I say, “Okay, okay.” Turning away from her, I turn towards the baby faced man across the way. What am I going to say to him? Hi my friend has a crush on you but she’s too drunk to talk to you by herself so she’s sending me?
Funny as that may sound, it would never do. I would kill her if she said anything like that about me to a guy, so it is only fair that I think of something to say about her too.
“What do you want me to even say?'' I ask her, before walking over.
“Oh I don’t know, tell him something clever about me like I’m really a nice person, and I am a college student, which I am,'' she says with enthusiasm.
“Anything else,” I laugh, reaching forward and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. I love her as much as I love my own sister Abigail.
“Yes,” she says, “tell him that I am excellent in bed.”
“There is no way in hell I’m ever going to tell anyone that, ever,” I tell her. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I feel like you’ve been drinking way too much. You know you've had at least six. What’s your blood alcohol level?”
“Oh my God Lucy you sound like my father,” she huffs swatting me away with the drink in her hand. “Go talk to him, we can exchange numbers and I’ll talk to him tomorrow when I’m sober and smart again,” she says.
Sighing to myself I walk away.
I dodge an army of hardbody fangirls who are vying for the attention of the gym junkies in here while walking over to the man in front of me. They rabidly batt their eyes and squeeze closer together to t
ry to keep me away but I manage to slip through them.
Walking closer to him, I smile and look away, hoping to get his attention. It’s always difficult to get the attention of a guy when they are already surrounded by beautiful women. They really should have made that movie Hitch for women. How to get a guy when he’s surrounded by slutty girls. I would watch that movie.
Walking by I pull out my phone and call Charlie even though she’s only twenty feet away.
“Oh my God Charlie, did you hear there’s a Captain America guy on set here in Wyoming?” I quickly get a lot of the attention, as the girls closest to me turn around to look at me.
“What?” Charlie asks. She can probably barely hear me here. The service is terrible, and the music is so loud, I just hope she doesn’t walk over and ask me in person what I am trying to tell her. I really should have just faked the entire phone call. It's not like he would know.
More girls turn around and listen as I look around the room.
“Yeah I know his Twitter said that he was here as well. It's exciting. No I haven’t seen him yet, but I did see someone like super tall and blonde in the corner, and I’m not saying it’s him, but I’m not saying it’s not. I’m definitely not saying we made out in the bathroom stall…” I say trailing off. I hear the gasp from the girls behind me and decide to mess with them a little more. “I’m definitely not saying that leaked dick pic all over Instagram is accurate either.” Charlie continues to act confused on the other side of the room.
“What? Dick pic? What are you talking about?” she demands, and I can see that she is considering coming closer. However, my attempts at distracting the girls surrounding the guy are successful. As a crowd of girls swarm and head over to the bar in the corner where I claimed to have seen Captain America.
Hanging up my phone with a snap I turn to look at the man before me thoroughly impressed with my tactics to get his attention.
“Hey there,” he says with a smile, “so Captain America is in the building?
God I hope he isn’t gay. That will just ruin everything for Charlie. Maybe it will be for the best. I think she’s been drinking too much to have any kind of conversation that doesn't lead to regrettable one night stands.
“Well if that’s what I said.” I smile and shrug before stepping closer so he can hear me better. “So, I have a friend,” I say turning and pointing to Charlie in the corner. “She thinks you’re hot, but she asked me to come over and talk to you.”
“Why would she ask you to come over and talk to me?”
“That is an excellent question,'' I say, smiling at my friend who suddenly pretends like she can’t see me. Typical.
“Well she thinks you’re really hot, so she’s too scared to come talk to you, so could you just go over and say hi to her? Maybe exchange numbers if you think she’s cute. She’s super drunk right now, but I promise she’s a really nice person and super interesting. She’s also a 4.0 student, top in her class, and graduated valedictorian in high school.”
“She sounds like kind of a nerd,'' he says, narrowing his eyes at her.
I stare in disbelief at the slick-haired man with the extra thick frames and button-down shirt. “Do you think my friend looks like a nerd?'' I asked incredulously. “It’s funny I was saying she would be your type, seeing as already.” I gesture to his glasses.
He smirks down at me in a way that makes me want to pop him in the nose. What is it with men and thinking smirking is sexy? I don’t find it sexy at all, in fact, I find it damn right irritating particularly in this moment.
“How about this,” he says, leaning forward whispering. His breath suddenly hot on my ear and smelling sickeningly of Corona Light, my least favorite beer.
“You give me seven minutes in heaven in the ladies bathroom, and I’ll go over and say whatever you want me to say to your loser friend.” He slaps my ass hard sending me jerking forward on my heels and crashing into his chest spilling my pink drink all over both of us.
That does it. Now he has to die. Not even thinking, I move fast as I jerk my leg up, sending him crashing to the ground.
“You don’t deserve me or my friend,'' I snarl. “Honestly, I don’t think you deserve a single girl here. Not even those girls over there harassing some tall Greek god who looks surprisingly like Captain America.” Turning on my dangerously high heels, I march back over to the most beautiful girl here.
I can’t believe him, that was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever been forced to endure. I silently promise myself that I will never again walk up to a guy in a bar to talk to him for my drunk friends. That simply makes no sense and now I want to die, change my clothes, burn them, and shower all the same time. What a frustrating mix of emotions to happen all in one evening.
Freaking Kenton should have just stayed with me at home and had a relaxing evening inside. If that had happened, then I wouldn’t be in the stupid situation, I wouldn’t be out here with his drunk daughter, my best friend, and I would probably be having the best sex of my life right now. Oh it could’ve been.
Walking back over to my best friend she stares at me.
“What the hell were you thinking?” she asks. “What if someone calls the cops?”
“Oh don’t worry about that,” I say, “if anyone’s coming, there is going to be a need for sexual harassment.”
“Sexual-harassment!” she exclaims. “What the heck happened over there?”
“Oh right, I forget you are too drunk to have noticed,” I say, suddenly regretting my words as she pouts looking a little sad. “He was a jerk, and he doesn’t deserve you.” Rubbing her arm, I pull her away from the bar. “Come on. Let’s go to Starbucks and buy you a coffee. We need to sober you up before I drive you home.”
“What no,” she says. “I don’t want to go home yet. I’m procrastinating on my summer homework.” She’s pronouncing each word clearly to prove that she isn’t completely drunk. But I still don’t believe her.
“Yes. I think you can procrastinate on your homework while your head is in the toilet and you vomit up the aspirin I’m going to give you,” I say, opening up my clutch and handing her two red pills. “For the love of God please take these,” I beg. “if your dad finds out how hammered you are he is going to kill me.”
“Why would my dad find out?” she asks, reaching for the aspirin and taking the water from someone’s table, not bothering to see who it belongs to.
“Parents,” I stumble, “just have a way of finding these things out.”
“I guess,” she says with a shrug as we weave our way out of the club and into the parking lot.
"Why do you always go after guys like that?” I ask her, shaking my head as we get into my car.
“What are you talking about?” she asks.
“You know those guys. The ones you don’t actually care about you. They just wanna have sex with your best friend in the bathroom and then do you as a favor.”
“Wait what,” she snaps, “Is that what he said?” she starts slamming her hand on the dashboard of my Volvo.
“Yeah, I really wouldn’t have said that if it wasn't true.”
She rolls her eyes in frustration. “God, guys are such jerks,” she mumbles turning her head and rubbing her eyes.
“Not all men are jerks,'' I tell her, wanting to make her feel better. “You need to find a guy like your dad.”
“My dad,'' she gasps looking horrified. “Why would I find someone like my dad?”
“Your dad’s really amazing,” I say looking back at her. “He is kind and generous. He helps pay for your college tuition remember?”
“Yeah I know,” she says looking away from me and crossing her arms.
“He's also smart and funny and really talented. He is a great fisherman. He went to all of your games while we were growing up, so we know that he’s very attentive.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. My dad‘s a great guy, and I should find someone like him,” she says. “If you like him so much why don’t you take hi
m out?” She lets out a long breath as we sit in silence wondering what to say next or how to proceed.
“Well I still say your dad is a wonderful person and any girl would be lucky to be with him.”
“Is this your way of telling me like my dad?” she laughs, shaking her head. The car is filled with silence again. I know I should change the subject. I told Kenton I wouldn’t tell Charlie. But I really want her to understand there are good guys out there, like her dad.
“Oh my god! Are you telling me if you actually like my dad?” she snaps. Turning her head quickly and slapping me on the arm, her mouth open, eyes widened.
“No! That’s not what I am saying,” I protest weakly.
“I think that’s exactly what you’re saying,” she says, slapping her hand on the dashboard again. “You have a thing for my father!”
“It’s not that bad,” I say. “Can you cut him some slack? Do you have any idea how much he deals with at work?”
“Oh my God,” she says, turning her head away and shaking it hard. “I must be drunk. I think I am.”
She sits in silence. I debate turning on the radio and letting her think this whole conversation was a drunken nightmare. Kenton is not going to be thrilled that his daughter found out this way or that she found out at all.
“That’s my father that you like, you know that right?” she asks, turning back to look at me now.
“Yeah I know,” I nod, turning on the radio. “I really don’t wanna talk about this with you right now.”
“What? No!” she shouts, slapping the radio back off. “How long have you had a thing for my dad and does he know?” she asks, her voice firm.
“Fine but if I tell you, you can’t tell anyone because we aren’t ready.”
“What do you mean, we aren’t ready?'' she asks her eyes wide. “Are you telling me that my dad likes you too?” she snaps. “Are you telling me that you’re about to be my stepmother? Oh my god that would be so fucking hilarious,” she says snarkily, turning her head and shaking it hard. “God my mother would really get a kick out of this conversation,” she groans.
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