Page 6 of The Other Side
3
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t focus on what Jolene was saying while a hot blonde guy across the bar continued to eye fuck me every time I glanced up, refusing to drop his lascivious gaze from mine.
The dive bar she had chosen was dim and heavy with conversation and laughter. The bartender on my side of the bar flitted back and forth, filling orders and collecting payment, his focus solely on the tasks in front of him. Despite being a random weeknight, the place was full, likely due to a game that was playing on the handful of monitors scattered around the bar. Occasionally an excited or disappointed roar would envelop the space, drawing my admirer’s attention from me briefly, before locking back on me once more.
I rarely drank, and the quick buzz and warmth in my cheeks confirmed as much. One of the main reasons I tried not to imbibe was because I tended to become rather amorous with some liquid courage in my system. It had gotten me into trouble in the past, and I had a feeling it might get me into more trouble that night. But would it be the good kind of trouble that endedwith me spent and satisfied, or the bad kind with regrets and a hangover?
I had barely taken a sip of my second drink, and was considering what a one-night stand might be like, as I had never been daring enough to try one before. But it had been just long enough since I’d been with anyone, and I’d had just enough to drink that the thought of going home with a stranger, to feel desired, even for a few minutes, felt like it might not be so bad.
I hadn’t intended to get a second drink, but Jolene was so entertaining, while regaling me with stories from her time in Florida visiting family, that it had felt like the right thing to do.
“Oh no.” Jolene frowned, looking down at her cell phone. The bells attached to the cat’s collar on her cardigan jingled as she turned to the bartender to get his attention to close her tab.
“Everything okay?” I tore my attention from my admirer.
Jolene chewed on her lip as she re-read the text.
“Kitty emergency?” I guessed.
Her big brown eyes flitted up to mine, guilt laced in her expression.
“You should go,” I gave her permission.
“But I’m your ride.” She frowned.
I smiled gently, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll get a cab back to campus. It’s okay. Go take care of your babies,” I encouraged her.
I’d have to put the ride on a credit card to afford it while I waited for the first paycheck of the school year, but I knew she’d only be stressed if she stayed. And I was curious to see where things would lead with the stranger across the bar, so maybe it was better this way.
“If you’re sure, I’ll close out the tab.” She nodded to the bartender as she spoke, signaling for the bill.
“Don’t worry about it.” I waved a hand at her, sneaking a glance at the mystery man across the bar.
His brow was raised in interest as he watched Jolene hop off the stool and sling her purse over her shoulder.
“Lunch tomorrow?” Jolene asked hopefully.
“I’ll bring it to your desk, like usual.” I reached out, giving her a firm hug, holding my breath so I didn’t suffocate on her cloying perfume, before she hurried out of the bar.
It took the handsome stranger all of two seconds to sidle up next to me. “Can I get you another?” He leaned in, his breath heavy with the scent of whatever brown liquor was in his rocks glass. My stomach turned, the fantasy of a one-night stand dying a quick death.
Why is the thought of men always so tempting, but in reality, it’s never quite as I had imagined it would be?
“I’m not sure,” my voice wavered as my eyes met his, deep chocolate and hooded with lust.
What were the implications of accepting a drink? I’d typically had unpleasant experiences with things that had initially been presented as gifts or tokens of affection from men, only for them to be turned into something that could be used against me later.
“Another round for…” The man peered down at me, expecting my name.
“Violet,” I offered instinctually, wincing slightly at the admission.
“Another round for the lovely Violet,” he confirmed.
I turned to call after the bartender, “Can I just get water?” I was unsure if he heard me or not.
“I haven’t seen you here before; you live close?” The stranger swirled his glass, his eyes still laser-focused on me. His intensity made me uncomfortable.
“I teach at Montgomery Prep.” Even the small amount of alcohol turned me into quite the open book, it would seem.
