“Meet me tonight," he says and I know that I must have heard him wrong. His rough voice and his southern accent are making it hard to concentrate on what he is saying. I swear I heard him wrong. I look over my shoulder.
“What?” I ask, scrunching my nose.
"You, me, tonight, beer, a game of pool?"
“Um…" Nope, didn’t hear him wrong. I look around to make sure that it’s still just me and him in the parking lot.
“It's just a beer,” he says, smiling.
“You’re kind of a jerk,” I tell him. It’s something he probably hears all the time.
"I can be but it's still just a beer, November.” The way he says my name makes me think that this is a lot more than just a beer and a game of pool. Plus, when a guy admits that they are a jerk, is that really a good thing? “Just meet me at the Stumble In at seven,” he says, taking a step closer to me. All of the sudden, I can feel the heat from his body, smell the scent of his cologne and I can finally make out the color of his eyes.
“Light blue with gold flecks,” I mumble to myself. My lips part and my eyes glaze over. All my senses are on overload.
“Pardon?” he asks and I realize that I just said that out loud.
“Nothing,” I mumble, still staring at him. I realize that I probably look like an idiot so I take a step back. He smiles, revealing one perfect dimple and I know in that moment that I am so screwed. Crap!
“Meet me at seven,” he repeats, taking a step closer to me. His hand comes up, moving my hair to behind my ear, and I'm totally lost. Just floating away in a hot guy fog.
“Um…” I blink, trying to pull myself together. “Okay, seven,” I say, wondering what the heck just happened. The words are out and I need to get away from him and his Jedi mind tricks. I turn to go but get tugged back. I almost fall on my butt when I turn my head and see Asher squat down to pet Beast.
“Alright, babe. Seven. See you then." His smile gets bigger, like he knows something I don’t. He stands from his squatting position and winks. I turn around because I need to go, go, go before I throw myself at him and ask him to help me give Ms. Alice great grandbabies.
“Come on, Beast.” I tug on his leash but he wants to stay with Asher. “I know the feeling, boy,” I whisper.
*****************
Walking into my dad’s house, I'm assaulted by the smell of garlic and butter. I stop in my tracks when I realize that he’s home. “Crap,” I whisper to myself. Dad’s home. Of course, he's home. We have dinner together every night. I try to act normal as I walk into the kitchen. My dad is standing in front of the stove, wearing an apron that looks like a girl in a bikini. I start laughing. "Hey, now. What's so funny?" he asks, smiling.
“Nothing, Daddy,” I say, giggling.
"I'll have you know that your uncle got this for me."
“I'm sure Uncle Joe did,” I say, smirking. Uncle Joe is a funny guy.
“Well, I like it. I look hot," he says, holding his hands out to his sides.
“That you do,” I agree, shaking my head. “So what are we having?” I ask, hopping up on the counter.
“Shrimp Alfredo, garlic bread and salad."
“Yum. Sounds good. I'm leaving at six thirty to head to the Stumble In,” I say, glad that it sounds casual.
"The Stumble In? Why are you going to the bar on a Thursday. I'm not driving you to drink already, am I?"
“Um… No, I'm meeting someone there?” I say, asking rather than telling him. Please don’t ask who, I pray.
“Is that a question or are you meeting someone?”
“Well, I um…ran into Asher at the nursing home when I was visiting his grandmother and he asked me to meet him.”
“You’re meeting Asher at the bar?" he asks with a look on his face that doesn’t bode well for me.
“Yeah, it's just a beer, Dad,” I say, using Asher's words.
"I don't know how I feel about this. I know you’re not a kid but Asher is not the kind of guy I expected you to date. Don't get me wrong, he's a good man.” He shakes his head. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“Promise, Dad,” I say quietly. The last thing I need is to get my heart trampled on again. Been there, done that. And Asher’s boots look like they would do a lot more damage than my ex’s. “Besides, Dad, he knows I'm new in town and feels bad for me or something.”
“Or something,” he says under his breath and I ignore him.
Dinner was awesome and Dad quickly dropped the uncomfortable conversation about Asher. Thank God. So now I am standing in front of my closet, trying to pick out what to wear. What do you wear to a bar to have a beer with a hot guy that you don’t want to like?
I haven’t ever really dated random guys. The one serious relationship I had in college went bad after my mom slept with him. I caught them together at his apartment after he sent me a text saying that he was going home after class because he wasn’t feeling well. Me, the loving fiancé that I was, showed up out of the blue to check on him. When I let myself in, the place felt strange. I wanted to turn around and run out but I stayed, walked to his bedroom and when I got there, all I heard was him moaning. It sounded like he was in a lot of pain so I opened the door to find my mom on top of him. I couldn’t even speak. I shut the door silently behind me and sent him a text telling him that I stopped by to check on him but saw for myself that he was feeling much better. He called a million times after that and sent flowers, cards, texts, but I didn’t care. I ignored all of it. I cut him out of my life, mailed him back everything that I had of his—including the ring he had given me—along with a note telling him to stop calling or I would press charges for stalking. After that, I never heard from him again.