Give Me Strength

by Kate McCarthy

  “Booth or bar?” came Lucy’s loud question.

  Nerves had me beat and already I needed to take five. “Neither,” I shouted back. “Bathroom.”

  We pushed our way through throngs of people crowding the glossy black bar and rows upon rows of button leather booths and found the bathroom. I washed my hands and met my eyes in the mirror as I waited for Lucy to finish. Midnight black mascara highlighted the lashes surrounding my brown eyes. Foundation had done its best to cover the small smattering of freckles across my nose, but I could still see them. Rose blush gave colour to my fair skin, and hot pink lipstick with a slick of strawberry flavoured gloss covered the one feature I couldn’t complain about—full lips. My hair was blonde, but not a beautiful golden colour. It was pale, almost white, and the long waves had long since gone.

  When I’d returned home after David put me in hospital, I stood in front of the mirror and hacked it all off myself. My eyes watched dispassionately as each lock dropped carelessly to the ground. My outside needed to match the ugly on the inside; therefore, the long, pretty locks needed to go. I’d let it grow a little, but the choppy style was still short enough it barely touched my shoulders.

  Lucy reached across me for a paper towel to dry her hands. A long sheet of black hair hung to her waist, piercing blue eyes sat in a striking face with deep olive skin, and boobs that preceded her into the room by at least a minute. I eyed mine. They were a handful, but that was according to my small hands. I sighed and we returned to the bar, rapidly snatching a booth that a group of people were currently vacating.

  “Sit,” Lucy said. “I’ll get the first round.”

  My eyes followed her movements and that was when I saw him. He caught my eye because he was by the bar talking and laughing as his friends spoke to him, but his eyes weren’t smiling. I recognised the look because I’d seen it in the mirror. My heart gave a small tug, and I was sure a bomb could’ve gone off and I wouldn’t have noticed. Realising I was blatantly staring, I closed my mouth and looked down at my hands.

  Come on, Quinn. You can do this. There’s a social animal inside there somewhere just waiting to cut loose.

  I looked up and let my eyes wander the room, knowing where they would land before they’d even stopped. They found him again and took in his tall length, wide shoulders, and tapered waist. Arms bulged with tanned muscle and thick veins. He had a head of blond hair, shorter than mine, but long enough that it just scraped into a ponytail. Loose strands were tucked casually behind his ears, and it gleamed like spun gold under the lights of the bar.

  Girls—tall gorgeous ones with long, fluffy hair—hovered at the fringes of his group. Their slinky dresses were black or navy and their lips red and shiny, making me feel out of place in my golden yellow, hot pink lips, and fair, creamy skin. One of them, tanned and dark haired, said something, and he shouted with laughter. Hearing him laugh was beautiful, but seeing someone like her hold his attention brought me back to reality. I dismissed him and let my eyes move on.

  Lucy arrived at the table with a tray of eight shots and two wine glasses. Obviously her aim of the evening was not to smooth my nervous edges but lay them out flat.

  “Thank God,” I muttered and reached for the shot, knowing I had the whole day off to pay for it. I tossed the vodka back and almost choked on the burn.

  “See anything interesting while I was at the bar?” Lucy asked as she sat down in the booth opposite me, waiting for me to catch my breath.

  I fixed my eyes on her. If she knew I’d been eyeing that hot guy she’d be all over it like tinsel on Christmas.

  She downed her own shot and hissed.

  “Nope,” I replied.

  My traitorous eyes wandered sideways, and Lucy followed my line of sight, her eyes widening with glee. “Are you shittin’ me, Quinn? That guy is holy fuck me gorgeous.” Her eyes narrowed on the hovering fangirls and she pursed her lips. “Could be a player.”

  I raised my brows at her and pointed my finger. “Exactly.”

  I picked up another shot and brought it to my lips.

  “But that’s good,” she said, tossing back her long sheet of hair. “That’s what you need. You’re in a man drought of epic proportions. You need someone like him to clear the cobwebs.”

  I choked again on my second shot and sputtered. “Lucy! I’m not a…a floozy!”

  Lucy snorted with laughter and grabbed her phone. “Who says floozy? I’ve gotta text that one to Rick.” Her fingers started stabbing letters as she texted her husband, chuckling all the while. “Next thing you’ll be calling yourself a lady of the night because you had sex once in all of two years.”

  “I haven’t had sex.”

  “That’s why we’re here,” she muttered as she hit send and tossed her phone back on the table.

  “I thought we were here to have a drink and then go home.”

  She ignored me and picked up another shot, drinking it down as her phone buzzed. She read the message and her smile was smug. “Rick’s going to come down for a drink. Then he can keep me company while you make your big move.”

  I bit my lip to stop the bark of hysterical laughter threatening to burst out at her statement. If any moves were going to be made, it would involve me running for the door.

  “I don’t belong with a man like that, and I don’t belong in a place like this, Lucy.”

  We both looked his way. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a stretchy T-shirt that emphasised his muscled chest. It was white and had a band’s name on the front with a picture, but what the thin, tight material revealed had me straining my eyes. It looked like a tiny little bar pierced his right nipple. Complete and utter lust punched me in the gut, and Lucy’s eyes widened when I let out a breathless squeak. Until I’d met Ethan, hot bad boys had always been my thing, and this one appeared to lead the pack.

  She flared her nostrils. “Rubbish. Let’s not start this bullshit again, Quinn. You’re not worthless. You’re beautiful, inside and out.”

  “Not tonight.” Nerves curdled my stomach into a tight knot, and I fought past the usual wave of self-loathing. For once, I was trying not to let it beat me down.

  She pursed her lips. “Okay. Well let me tell you something. Maybe you aren’t a tall sex goddess. So what? You have the market cornered on sweet and adorable. People pay big dollars for a hair colour like yours. Then there’s your huge, Bambi eyes, and bitch, you have the cutest smattering of freckles across your nose. You’ll always have that youthful look about you no matter how old you are, and compared to all those hos at the bar…” she waved her shot glass around and then looked at it as though she wondered how it got there “…they look fake in comparison, with their hair extensions and orange tans. I swear to God I was watching one of them laughing just before, and her face did not move. I was fucking scared. Scared,” she repeated, jabbing her shot glass at me with emphasis before sucking it back.

  I chuckled and resisted the urge to kick off my heels, tuck my legs underneath me, and get cosy. “Thanks, Luce, but you don’t need to butter me up because it won’t work. I’m staying right in this booth.”

  Two large hands slapped down on the table. I followed them up and into Sean’s dark brown eyes. “Having a good night?” He smiled at the both of us, but his question was directed at me. It was probably obvious I was socially inept, so perhaps he felt sorry for me.

  Not wanting to encourage any pity, I returned the smile. “If I wasn’t, the tray of shots here will make sure I am.”

  I didn’t need to see Lucy’s grin at my flirty comeback. I could feel it. I bit down on my lip so I wouldn’t laugh at her.

  Sean’s eyes dropped to my mouth for an uncomfortable moment before he nodded at the door. “Gotta get back out.” He slid a small slip of paper across the table towards me with his large hand. “If you wanna change that good night to a great night…” he winked “…then you have my number.”

  “Oh my God,” Lucy hissed at me as he walked away. “Sean is so into you.”
<
br />   The thought had me a little giddy, but it might also have had something to do with the shots. “He’s hot, but how many girls does he proposition on the job? I’d just be one in a long line, but...” I grinned as my eyes fell on his retreating back “...I’m sure it’s a line most girls would be happy to queue in.”

  Lucy giggled. Lucy hardly ever giggled. Her laugh was more the rich, throaty kind, so I knew her shots were kicking in. “Well he obviously wants you at the front of it. It’s that sexy mouth of yours, Quinn. A man takes one look at it and instantly imagines how it would look wrapped around his—”

  “Lucy!” I squealed.

  “Okay, so save Sean for another night. Make it a buffet. Start with the hot player at the bar.”

  I sighed and my eyes sought him out. His friends were still there, but he wasn’t. Ever since my eyes had found him, my spine had tingled with awareness. Now it felt like the bottom had dropped out of my stomach.

  I turned back to Lucy, knowing my disappointment was obvious. “He’s gone.”

  “Well here...” Lucy grabbed at the bit of paper Sean had left behind and tucked it in my clutch “...there’s always Sean, and he’s better than a consolation prize. I’ve seen him without a shirt, and his muscles rival Rick’s.”

  This was true. Rick was the sort of guy you looked at and then expected his shirt to tear apart as he transformed into The Hulk. They were married straight out of school and had been together almost eight years now. I’d met the pair of them when I moved into the townhouse next door four years ago and they’d both been my best friends, my only friends, ever since.

  “Speaking of Rick, if he’s coming down for a drink, will he still be able to give us a ride home?”

  “Honey, you are getting a ride home with someone else.” She grinned wickedly, her behaviour getting less refined as the night went on. I could only imagine it was tame in comparison to what went down on an ordinary night at Screamers, the nightclub where she worked. The place was at the Cross in Sydney’s red-light district and stripping and cage dancing featured heavily. That was how Lucy got her start, dancing in a cage and working her way up the chain to bar manager.

  “Oh, he’s back,” Lucy said and enthusiasm had her clutching my arm.

  My eyes whipped to the bar, and sure enough there he was talking again with his friends. His eyes lifted, flashing with laughter and scanning the room. When he caught me staring, my pulse raced like I was lined up in pole position at the Grand Prix. His gaze wandered over me curiously, and I flushed with embarrassment, lifting a hand to hide my face. The sudden movement sent my wine glass flying across the table and sprayed Lucy. Thankfully she was acquainted with my spatial awareness affliction and used to the drama, so she didn’t bat an eyelid. My eyes whipped back to the man at the bar to see if he’d caught the embarrassing display. The amusement in his green eyes and the way he saluted me with his beer told me he had. I cringed as I wiped up the mess with napkins, determined never to show my face at the bar again. Not that that would be a problem.

  “Well get over there before he disappears again, Quinn.”

  “I…what?”

  “You heard me.” She flung a napkin at me. “I’ll give you fifty bucks if you go stand by the bar next to him and order a drink.”

  “What are you, like a reverse pimp? I just embarrassed the complete shit out of myself. I’m not standing by the bar. I’m leaving.”

  Her eyes flattened menacingly. “Then what? I get to drag you out again in another two years, making your drought double to four years? Stop running away.”

  “Thanks for the math lesson, Lucy.”

  “I won’t let up about this so you may as well just—”

  “Okay!” I held up a hand. “I’ll do it. Just…don’t watch me like it’s some big deal. I’m going to the bar, buying a drink, and coming back. Nothing more.”

  She let out a deep, gratifying sigh and slid fifty dollars across the table. “The guy’s name at the bar is Vince, okay? I know him so tell him I sent you.”

  “Keep your money,” I hissed. Then I gave my dress a once over and cleared my throat. “Do I look okay?”

  Her eyes softened sadly at my question. “You look perfect.”

  I reached the bar and tried to catch the barman’s eye.

  “Vince,” came a voice from behind me. It wasn’t a yell but somehow the deep rumble carried along the bar, and Vince looked up. My chest thumped with nerves, and I grabbed the bar with my fingertips. “Four beers, mate.”

  Did he just cut in?

  Vince nodded and winked in the direction over my shoulder telling me that he had, in actual fact, just cut in. My eyes narrowed and I spun around, having to tilt my head, even in my skyscrapers, to meet his eyes. Up close their colour was a bright, leafy green with a starburst of topaz reflecting the light. He had a straight nose and a strong jaw covered by stubble, but long, golden lashes and gorgeous, full lips changed his features from hard to almost sensual.

  Realising I was standing there absorbed in his lips, I dragged my eyes back to his and found him staring at me intently. I cleared my throat, feeling awkward and unsure of what to say.

  Then he opened his mouth to speak.

  To me.

  Oh God, he was going to speak to me. Please don’t. Please don’t. I’ll have to reply. I can’t do this. My breathing escalated into silent little pants.

  “You’re not gonna toss your next drink at me, are you?”

  My mouth fell open.

  Say something, Quinn, I ordered myself firmly.

  “My drink?”

  His eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled and leaned towards me, enough that I could feel the heat of his body. “Yeah, your drink.”

  “Oh…” I paused. “I don’t have one.”

  He nodded at the bar, so I turned and saw a glass of wine sitting there right in front of me.

  I shook my head. “I didn’t order that. It must belong to someone else. Excuse me,” I muttered and did my best to get Vince’s attention.

  I couldn’t do this. Being someone that smiled and flirted and made instant friends didn’t come easily anymore. Watching everyone else around me do it so naturally just reminded me how little I belonged.

  I turned the other way to check on Lucy. Rick had arrived and now they were both sitting in our booth eyeballing me.

  What? I shrugged at the both of them.

  Lucy’s expectant expression evolved into a wide grin when a hand touched the small of my back. Tingles of warmth spread through my body at the unfamiliar touch. Lips brushed against my ear, and I almost moaned. “I ordered it. For you.”

  Breathless, I asked, “You did?”

  “Uh huh,” came the soft rumble of reply, and I swallowed. “When I saw you throw your drink at your friend, I thought you could do with another.”

  I spun back around. The man was completely in my space. Heat radiated from him and sucked every chill from my body. “I didn’t throw it.”

  “Sure you didn’t,” he said. Then he smiled, slow and lazy, and I wanted to taste it on my lips. “You know, you could just say thank you.”

  “What?” I muttered.

  He leaned in towards me, and I held my breath. Then he stretched his arm out and picked up three beers, called over my shoulder, “Thanks Vince,” twisted to hand them to his friends behind him, and returned to me.

  “Now,” he murmured. “Where were we? Oh that’s right. I believe you were thanking me.”

  “Umm…” He was watching me expectantly. “Thank you,” I answered with a flustered smile.

  He shook his head and the light spun in his silky hair. “Pity.”

  My smile dropped at his tone. “What?”

  “I was hoping I’d get more than words.”

  More than words? My eyes dropped to his lips. “What were you hoping for?”

  With his beer in one hand, he used the other to reach out and grip my hip lightly as he leaned in and said, “You.”

  I pulled back and
looked at him. The man was a player. That was obvious, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. The way he was looking at me made me want to be the one he was hoping for.

  Is it him you want, Quinn, or just the touch of another man after going without for so long?

  Oh God. I didn’t know. Was I already reverting back to my old ways, drinking and sleeping with anyone just to feel wanted? Because that wasn’t the person I wanted to be anymore. My throat felt thick and my eyes burned as he waited for me to reply. He stood there so patiently, so utterly beautiful, but all he wanted was a warm, willing body. Any woman in this bar would jump at the chance.

  “Excuse me,” I mumbled. “I have to get back to my friend.”

  I turned but my heel caught on the stool next to me, and in slow motion I watched my glass of wine pitch all down the front of his shirt.

  “Oh God,” I cried. Stupid. You are so stupid! “I’m so sorry.”

  I stared in horror at his sopping shirt. The cold liquid made it cling to his skin, revealing muscled ridges that begged to be touched. In that moment the absolute one positive I could gain from this disaster was that if this were a wet T-shirt competition, his rivals would be eating dirt.

  He glanced downwards at the mess, brushing away the wet with his hands. “Vince?” he called out over my shoulder. “Towel, mate.”

  I could hear his friends behind him giving him shit as he peeled it back from his chest with his thumb and forefinger. They must have thought I’d been insulted and done it deliberately.

  My first, and last, embarrassing foray into the world of socialisation was now complete, and in that moment I prayed really hard for Dr. Who to arrive with the Tardis, but guess what? He didn’t show. So I sat my now empty wine glass down, grabbed at the towel Vince proffered, and handed it over.

  “I’m really sorry,” I mumbled, averting my eyes.

  I turned in a sudden rush to leave, but a firm, warm hand grabbed my arm. I paused and met determined green eyes. “Leaving me?”

  You should only be so lucky, Mr. whomever you are. “I’m really sorry,” I whispered. “I can’t do this.”

  His brow furrowed, confusion clouding his eyes as the towel he held hovered over his chest. “Can’t do what?”