Easy Love

by K. Alice Compeau

  After taking two laps around the place, he pulled out his phone and texted Dan.

  Grant: Where are you?

  No reply.

  I’m going to kill him if he already left with someone.

  Grant made his way to the bar. At least with a drink in his hand he’d feel less uncomfortable than he did just standing and staring at people like some kind of perverted weirdo. He ordered a beer and sat down at a table that was miraculously empty.

  Halfway through his beer—and a decision to leave when it was done—his phone buzzed in his pocket.

  Dan: On the dance floor. Got two babes. Join me.

  Grant: No. I’ll wait. Got a table.

  Grant leaned back, took a drink, and then wrinkled his nose when he noticed the big gal from earlier was now dancing—what was supposed to be seductively—in his eye line. Despite her efforts to make eye contact with him, he deflected it by pulling out his phone and scrolling through Twitter.

  Hurry up, Dan.

  Every time Grant dared peek up from his phone, his lady large would begin slowly rolling her shoulders and hips, rubbing her body up and down.

  I’m gonna need another beer.

  He chugged down the remainder of his beer and waved for a waitress.

  “What can I get ya?” The waitress shouted so loudly he shuddered away from the sound.

  “A beer.”

  “Got ya.” She weaved her way through the crowd and over to the bar. When she returned, he paid her, gave a nice tip, and went back to his avoidance cycle of phone, beer, phone.

  “Grant!” Dan Cooley slapped him on the back and pulled out a chair next to him. “Ladies, this is Grant. Grant, meet Tiffany and Brittany.”

  Grant raised a brow at the sounds of their trailer park names then looked up from his phone.

  Fuck.

  “Hey, Tiffany.” Grant painted on the best false smile he could muster. He almost wished he could go back to watching the seductive dance of the water buffalo.

  “Hi, Grant. How’s Nana?”

  “She’s doin just fine.” Grant took a long sip from his beer.

  There goes Nana not finding out he didn’t go out with Lottie for the evening. How was he going to explain this?

  “Oh, you two know each other?” Dan grinned from ear to ear, obviously beyond three sheets to the wind.

  Brittany, a pixie-haired brunette—who Grant wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t a man at some point—was sitting in Dan’s lap with her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

  “Tiffany is a friend of Nana’s.” Grant took another drink of his beer.

  “Of Nana’s? And yours too, I thought.” Tiffany stuck out her bottom lip.

  Grant pursed his lips and took another swig.

  “Dannyboo, I wanna get shots!” Brittany slobbered as she spoke.

  “Yes! Shots!” Tiffany bounced up and down in her seat.

  “None for me, thanks.” Grant thought about making his exit. He would rather take a nap in the parking lot of the reservoir than do shots with the trailer park twins and his drunk childhood friend.

  “Waitress!” Dan waved his hand.

  “What can I get ya?” The waitress smiled at Grant.

  “We want four blow jobs!” Brittany ran her fingers along Dan’s bottom lip.

  “And a woo woo!” Tiffany added.

  Grant fought the urge to roll his eyes. He held up his beer bottle to the waitress to let her know he’d take another. She nodded and headed to the bar. When she returned, Dan put a shot in front of Grant.

  “Blowjob time!” Brittany wailed before leaning over and picking up the shot in her mouth, gulping it back like someone who never has a problem swallowing mouthfuls of various liquids.

  Grant pushed the shot away and paid the waitress for his beer. And the shots. And the woo woo.

  “Thanks for the drink.” Tiffany smiled as she pulled it to her lips.

  “You’re welcome.” Grant figured the sooner they all got drunk and passed out, the sooner they’d get to leave. But he was calling them a ride. There was no way any of them were going to throw up blow jobs in his truck.

  “Dannyboo, I wanna dance some more.” Brittany stood and pulled Dan to his feet.

  “Come on, you two!” Dan motioned for Tiffany and Grant to follow.

  “I’m good.” Grant sipped his beer and pulled out his phone.

  “Yeah, you guys go. I’m gonna sit this one out, too.” Tiffany waved and smiled at Grant.

  Fuck.

  Something about Tiffany made it too easy for him to be rude. Normally, he didn’t like to be rude to anyone, but the way she looked at him, like she expected him to adore her and try to talk to her, got on his nerves. Yes, she was pretty, but there didn’t seem to be anything else to her.

  Tiffany’s jaw twitched, and she moved closer to Grant in small increments, like she had something to say but didn’t. Grant cocked his head to one side and crossed his arms, looking away from her.

  Suddenly, she slid her chair right up next to his.

  “Hey, Grant. I can tell you don’t like me.” Tiffany reached over and took a drink of her woo woo. “And I know why. I mean, I wouldn’t like if someone was always trying to set me up either. But I promise, I’m a nice person. And I really like your nana. I don’t like to say no and let her down. I’m sorry that I intruded that day at the reservoir and stopped you from going out with your friend.”

  “I don’t dislike you.” Grant’s eyes widened. He’d been rude enough that she’d noticed, and now he felt like an asshole. He probably was an asshole.

  “Well, you dislike being forced to spend time with me. I honestly didn’t know that your nana was going to invite me to dinner. She said you two were going to be walking at the reservoir and since she knew I ran, she said she’d love to see me there. I swear that’s all. I promise. Then I didn’t feel comfortable telling her no when she asked me to lunch.” Tears balanced on the rims of Tiffany’s eyes. “I’m really not a psycho, or however I may seem.”

  Grant’s stomach sunk. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Welp, I’m kind of an asshole. Can I make it up to you?”

  “Buy me another drink once I finish this one and we’ll call it even.” Tiffany took a sip of her drink.

  “Fine, but you have to tell the waitress your order. There’s no way I’m asking for a woo woo.” Grant raised an eyebrow and grinned.

  Tiffany’s hand flew to her face. “Embarrassing, I know. But I don’t drink much and it’s really good. I wish it had a different name.” She pushed her glass toward him. “Here, try a sip.”

  Grant pursed his lips, picked up the drink, and took a sip. He cocked his head to the side. “You know what, that is good. Not that I’ll ever order one. I’ll stick with beer.” He looked out on the dance floor to see Brittany bent over and Dan practically slamming into her butt. “It’s not going to be fun getting those two home tonight.”

  “As long as we call them a cab, they can take care of each other. When Brittany gets like this, I know there’s no way I can talk her out of going home with a guy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a bad friend, I’ll still try, but there’s only so much I can do. I worry about her.” Tiffany shook her head.

  “Well, Dan’s a good guy. She’ll be all right. Do you come to Scooters often?” Grant rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mean for that to sound like a pickup line.”

  “I’m here almost every Friday night whether I want to be or not. Brittany never gets tired of coming here. Usually, I end up having a pretty good time. I love to dance.” Tiffany smiled.

  Grant pursed his lips and averted his eyes. “I hope that’s not a hint. I don’t dance. Especially to music that involves people forcing words to rhyme.” He rolled his eyes.

  “I’ll dance to anything. I took ballet from the time I was three through high school, but I also like hip hop and jazz.”

  “It looks like everyone on the dance floor here is just dry humping to the beat.”

  Tiffany looked over to th
e dance floor and shrugged. “Maybe if you get a few more drinks in you, you’ll change your mind?”

  “Doubtful.”

  “We’ll see.” Tiffany waved the waitress over, ordered another beer for Grant and another woo woo for herself. “He’s payin’.” She grinned.

  Grant smiled. Maybe he’d judged this girl way too harshly. And maybe if a song came on that wasn’t completely horrible, he’d ask her dance.

  ***

  A few more beers and a few stolen sips of Tiffany’s woo woos later, Grant found himself a little drunk and out on the dance floor. Tiffany was a good dancer, and he found himself drawn in by her moves and her smile. He also admired the way she looked after Brittany, convincing her to switch to water and lay off the shots for the rest of the evening. Grant didn’t have as much luck with Dan, who only got more drunk as the night went on.

  “You’re gonna end up embarrassing yourself with a case of whiskey dick if you keep going this way,” he told Dan as he ordered another whiskey and coke.

  “I’ve never had a problem with my cock,” Dan shouted over the music a little too loudly. Tiffany giggled and hid her face in Grant’s shoulder.

  “Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Grant held up his hands as he stepped away from the bar.

  “You be concerned with your own dick.” Dan waved him away and began guzzling his drink without paying.

  The bartender raised a brow at Grant, who pulled out some cash and paid.

  “It’s almost closing time. I don’t think I should drive.” Grant pulled out his phone to look at the time, also noticing he had no messages from Lottie. Was David still there at 1:30 a.m.? “You know, I don’t feel so good.”

  “Let’s all split a ride. Then we can make sure that Dan and Brittany get home okay. I can bring you to get your truck tomorrow.” Tiffany smiled.

  “Ride on the back of your Vespa?” Grant crinkled his nose.

  Tiffany cocked her head and pursed her lips. “I’ll let you drive.”

  “I think I’d rather walk. Oh, and Tiffany, would you keep it to yourself that you saw me here tonight? I don’t really want Nana to know.”

  “Sure thing. Now let’s go get those drunks and send for the car before they’re flooded with calls at closing time.”

  “Sounds good.” Grant wrangled a very drunk Dan Cooley and a slightly less drunk Brittany to the front door while Tiffany called for a car.

  Once they successfully dropped Dan and Brittany off at Dan’s house, they went on to Tiffany’s.

  “Grant, I wasn’t completely honest with you.”

  “About what?”

  “Well, I didn’t only come because Nana invited me. I also thought you were really cute, and I’m attracted to you.”

  The car stopped in front of her house. She leaned in and kissed Grant. He opened his mouth and pulled her closer, only stopping when the driver began clearing his throat.

  Tiffany kissed him again softly on the lips. “Would you like to come in?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lottie

  Lottie glared at David. She didn’t have the energy or the will to fake a smile. He didn’t deserve it. He was nothing but a crap maker. A make-Lottie’s-life-crap maker. And why should she even care that he needed to talk? He was the one that had walked out the door and decided that there was nothing left to be said—with her, anyway.

  David made his way into the living room and flopped down on the sofa, putting his boots up on the coffee table as if he lived there. “How long have you been dating that guy?” The words “that guy” were singed with disdain.

  Lottie felt the hot ember in her stomach ignite. Hot tears burned down her face, and her throat couldn’t contain the fire. “It’s none of your fucking business, and get your dirty boots off my coffee table. My coffee table. The one I paid for after you had everything in our house packed up and moved to Hawaii! Go put your feet on Veronica’s coffee table and get out of my life.”

  David jerked his feet from the table and sat up straight as though she were a general. “Lottie. I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just wanted to come over and see if we could smooth things over. I don’t like the way things ended between us, and I was hoping we could put the anger behind us.”

  “Are you kidding me? You busted my heart! You cheated on me and left me for the woman you cheated with. And you left me with nothing. The only reason you’ve ever called is to get the last few things you left behind in the dresser of the bedroom set—the only thing you left me with. You’re a monster. You show up just in time to ruin a date with a man who treats me like you never did. You have no idea how much I want to punch you right now.” Lottie’s fist balled up and spittle shot from her lips as she spoke.

  David stood. “You’re right. I know it. I’m a jerk. Go ahead. Hit me.” He held out his jaw out and closed his eyes. The tiniest bit of a grin pulled at the corners of his mouth, and before she knew it, Lottie’s fist swung straight back and sprang forward again.

  Caught off guard, David fell back onto the couch, stunned and gripping his lip, which had busted, blood dripping down his chin.

  Lottie gasped and stared, but her body didn’t move. Her thoughts scrambled through her mind like a carnival ride. He deserved it! That was awful. Fuck, yeah! Eat that! I’m so sorry. You asked for it! He asked for it. Didn’t he ask for it?

  Lottie spun on her heels and padded into the kitchen. She yanked a roll of paper towels from the counter and returned, holding them out to David. Still not saying a word, with eyes wide, he took them, wadded a bunch in his free hand, and jerked them free from the roll. He held it to his lip and pulled some more from the roll with his bloodied hand.

  Lottie watched. It was all she could bring herself to do. Her hands dropped to her side. But then a giggle suddenly bubbled up her throat. She tried to suppress it but quickly lost the battle. She shook her head and raised her palms as David looked at her with disbelief running through his eyes. The giggle soon turned into a roaring laugh, and Lottie gripped at her aching ribs. Tears flowed down her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, David.” The words came out sputtering.

  “Yeah, you look really sorry.” He pulled away the paper towel to check and see if his lip had stopped bleeding. He ripped off a few fresh pieces and put them on his lip.

  “I’ll take those.” Lottie gathered up the bloody towels and headed into the kitchen. She opened the trash and tossed them in, stopping a moment to stare at David’s bright red blood in her trashcan.

  She let the lid drop. Most of her felt he deserved what he got, but a tiny piece of her felt bad about what she’d done. In their relationship, neither of them had ever gotten physically violent with the other. And part of her wasn’t upset that she’d done it but that he might have the high ground now.

  She turned the faucet on and washed her hands with soap and water. The cold water rinsed away some blood that had gotten on her knuckles. Was it his or hers? She wasn’t sure. Her knuckles were sore to the touch, but she didn’t see any cuts. Gathering two clean dish towels from the drawer, she placed ice in the center of each and wrapped them up. She returned and handed one to David, placing the other on her fist.

  “I shouldn’t have punched you.” She sat in the recliner across from him.

  “I shouldn’t have done a lot of things to you, Lottie. I deserved it. Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?”

  “For messing up our marriage or for ruining my date?” Lottie winced. Why did she already have to be so biting back at him when he was trying to apologize? Anger. Yes, she’d been hanging onto a lot of anger hidden behind a layer of hurt. And why should she forgive him anyway?

  “Both. If I’d known you had a date, I wouldn’t have come by.”

  Lottie scrunched her face and shrugged. “Maybe you should have called first.”

  “You’re right. I should have, but on the flight here, I was thinking about all my other deployments and how you wrote me a letter every day I was gone. I guess I rea
lized I was going to miss that. I love your letters.”

  “I’m sure Veronica will write you.” Lottie looked away. Saying her name to him was like tasting acid.

  “Nah, she’s not the letter writing type. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how much you loved me and all the special things about you. You really are one of a kind.” He dropped the towel from his lip and smiled at her. The look in his eyes was so soft, she felt the icy burning of the frost that had been surrounding her heart melt.

  “What are you trying to say, David?” Lottie cocked her head, her eyes now threatening to fill with tears.

  “I miss you, Lottie.”

  “I miss you, too.”

  “I’m going to be busy while I’m here, getting my training done for the sim, and I know I have no right to ask this, but do you think you’d write to me while I’m deployed?” He put the towel back to his lip and winced.

  Lottie stared at him for a moment. Her throat was suddenly dry, and her heart seemed to stand completely still as though it were waiting for her answer as well.

  What would be the harm in writing him letters? Maybe it would be a step forward in healing their relationship. It had to be better than punching him. She couldn’t say anything but nodded.

  David got up and held out his hand to Lottie. She took it, and he pulled her up, wrapping her in a tight hug. It had been so long since she’d felt his body against hers. It was a good feeling, and she didn’t want to let go. She wrapped her free arm around him and took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears.

  He let go and took a step back, reached in his pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here’s the squadron address. I’ll send you a better one when I get there.”

  “Do you want to have lunch before you deploy on Wednesday?”

  “How about tomorrow? My sim schedule probably won’t line up with your school lunch.”

  “Okay. Where?”

  “How about Roma’s?”

  Why would he take her to the place where he broke her heart? Lottie nodded. Maybe she could replace that bad memory with a new, good one. Besides, she’d really been missing their garlic bread.