“Come on, Simone,” Juliet whines, standing half-naked in the middle of my doorway.
“We’re too old to be hanging out at bars and clubs to meet guys,” I reply, not taking my eyes off my laptop.
“We’re not too old for two friends to have a couple of drinks at a bar together,” Juliet claims, sitting on the edge of my bed.
I let out a heavy sigh. “You always dog me when we go out.”
“I do not,” Juliet counters defensively.
My brow lifts as my head tilts slightly. “Seriously?”
“What?” Juliet replies, standing up, placing her hand on her hip.
I don’t comment, allowing the unspoken truth to linger in the air. Knowing Juliet, I continue to stare her down, waiting for her to break.
“I don’t know why you continue to put yourself in these kinds of situations,” my inner voice states.
I mentally roll my eyes as if it’ll get it to stop talking.
Unable to take the silence, Juliet finally admits, “It’s not my fault that I end up finding a cute guy to hook up with when I’m out and you don’t. You need to be more open to the option for yourself and you wouldn’t be so mad at me about it.”
The corner of my mouth ticks up for a few brief moments, pleased at Juliet’s unprompted admittance about her promiscuous habits. It’s been seven years, ever since we met in college and Juliet got us fake IDs, that I have played the role of guardian. There were other friends who joined us, but they too got drunk, left without saying a word, stranding Juliet and me on many occasions. Frustrated by the abandonment, I vowed to never let a girl go out by herself after an incident that happened just off-campus our first year.
“You need to be less open,” I snicker.
Her eyes narrow. “How long has it been since Owen broke things off with you?”
I let out a sigh as I bite my lip. Juliet doesn’t know the truth about what happened between Owen and me. Not one person knows. She’s not wrong with calling me out. Since then, I’ve been avoiding men as much as possible for many months.
“Juliet,” I huff.
“We don’t go out as often as we used to,” she whines.
I lift a brow.
“You moved away for so long, and even with us living together now, we barely go out,” she adds with the tone of a toddler who’s about to have a tantrum.
I don’t reply, knowing that she’ll eventually act more like an adult, which is the only way to sway me.
“I just don’t want to appear desperate,” Juliet sighs, leaning against the door frame.
I snort. “You’re always desperate.”
“She is way too desperate…it’s sad,” my inner voice cackles. “The very epitome of insanity…doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result.”
“It’s not my fault that I’m twenty-eight and haven’t found the right guy yet.”
“Have you considered that your choice in men is the problem?” I ask snidely.
“Like you’ve done well in that department,” Juliet quips back with sass.
My jaw tightens as I contemplate my response. “I’m picky,” I claim with half-truth.
“Too picky,” Juliet counters.
My shoulders bounce. “At least I can count the number of men I’ve slept with on one hand with another to spare.”
“Ouch,” Juliet replies with mock hurt feelings. “At least I’m figuring out what I prefer.”
Her response makes me laugh. “I know what I prefer. I just don’t need as many men to figure it out.”
“They’re fun, but not one of them has lasted long to satisfy my needs,” Juliet sighs. “And, I’m not just talking about sexually.”
“What about that one guy you hooked up with a few times? Tim…John…Jack—“
“Jake?” she scoffs. “Seriously, you bring up him?”
“Weren’t you two an item for a while?” I goad.
“Don’t,” Juliet warns holding up her hand in warning.
Though she always denies it, she was dating the guy for some time. How do I know? Aside from being her roommate, and the only person who goes out with her to the three different bars she likes to frequent, I had several nights of being stuck hanging out with Jake’s friend.
“Wasn’t he more open to exploration?” I inquire, biting back a snicker.
Juliet lets out a heavy exhale and rolls her eyes to avoid the topic further. We both know the truth behind that relationship. Things were going good between her and him—at least it seemed like it for a good four months until things abruptly ended.
“Most men are not willing to explore being pegged,” I remind. “They think it takes away their masculinity and makes them gay. You can’t expect a man to be willing to have his ass penetrated.”
“If any man is not willing to be pegged, yet expects my ass to be open for—“
“Please don’t,” I request, holding up my hand. “I don’t need, nor want, details or the visual.”
“They don’t like it when you surprise them with a finger,” Juliet laughs.
“Ew!” I chuck a pillow at her. “I don’t want to hear that shit!”
“You brought it up,” Juliet says, brushing it off with a shrug after dodging my weapon.
“Can we just stay in?” I beg. “It’s snowing.”
She glances out the window. “It’s only flurrying. Besides, snow never kept us out of a bar before.”
“They’re calling for at least a foot,” I say, hoping she’ll change her mind. “And, I’m dressed for staying in.”
“You’ve been dressed like that since this morning.”
My shoulders bounce. “It’s not my fault that I work from home and can wear whatever I want.”
Juliet glances out the window. “It’s barely started. We’ve got time for food and then—“
“Please?” I ask dramatically with clasped hands.
“There’s a band tonight,” she adds. “And, my lady needs tending to.”
“You’ve got at least six different BOBs to assist with that,” I remind.
“I need more than just BOB and his friends,” Juliet claims.
My eyes roll though I understand the feeling. It’s been a while since my relationship with Owen, let alone had a man inside my panties. Even though I have the same itch, that doesn’t mean I’ll be opening my legs for any man tonight. A girl needs to set some boundaries for herself and stick to them.
“Two feet,” I remind.
“One foot,” she counters.
“It could be two,” I challenge. “Anytime New York has gotten a snowstorm this early in the season, there’s more snow than they anticipate.”
“So?”
“So, it might be a better idea to just booty call one of your—“
Juliet takes in a long, deep, dramatic gasp.
My eyes dart to the ceiling for a moment. “You have no one you can—-“
Her hand darts up, signaling for me to stop. “How dare you?”
“How dare I?” I scoff with a snicker. “Please, bitch.”
Juliet pouts. “I need me something new.”
“Then…let’s go to the toy store.”
“Nope.” She wags her finger at me. “I need the real deal.”
My leg bounces as I contemplate how this discussion will continue until I cave and agree to go. She’s right, we haven’t been out in a while. I’ve avoided it as much as possible because of knowing where she wants to go and how it’ll all unfold. I wait a few more seconds, deliberately enjoying the agony on Juliet’s face as she silently pleas with me.
“Fine,” I groan, closing my laptop.
“Yay!” Her hands dart above her head before she rushes over to hug me. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!” Her lips contact my cheek several times.
I push her off of me as I attempt to rise from my bed. “The moment you find the one, please, for the love of God, get him and yourself out of the bar and to his place. I want to make it back here in one piece.”
“Done,” Juliet agrees.
An hour later, after showering and primping, Juliet is finally ready to find her meat stick for the night. I was ready twenty minutes ago—and that was taking my time.
Juliet beams as we step out of the cab and onto the sidewalk that’s covered with a thin blanket of flurries. I scowl at the bite of the air, tightening my fingers around my jacket.
“Where’s your coat?” I ask.
“Don’t need it.”
“I’m not taking care of your ass if—“
“I’ll be fine,” Juliet claims, jumping up and down to stay warm. “I just need a drink and I’ll be good.”
“I’m going to need more than a drink,” I mumble, following her into the bar.
I continue to complain under my breath, stopping when I collide with her. She decided she needed a long pause just beyond the entrance to take in the crowd.
“Don’t crowd me,” Juliet whines.
“Don’t stop halfway into the place,” I quip.
Juliet turns sharply on her heels to face me. “I need you to be perky and happy tonight, okay?”
I offer a fake smile. “Sure.”
“I mean it,” she says with a hand on her hip.
“So do I,” I lie through a clenched jaw.
I pray to God that this is the last night I’ll ever have to babysit Juliet, assuring him or her, whichever God may be, that I’ll do anything if Juliet would find her one true love tonight and relieve me of this insanity. I tolerate the girl more than most, but there’s a girl code between single roommates.
“Hey,” some creepy guy says walking up to us.
“Not interested,” Juliet returns as she juts her chin in the opposite direction and walks away.
I avoid making eye contact with the guy and quickly follow her.
Juliet takes a table near the back right corner which is the area she prefers to sit whenever we come to The Smoked Goat. She tries other places to hunt, but she’s seemed to have the most success with finding a hookup, and a potential temporary boyfriend, at this particular location. Plus, Juliet likes the drama that surrounds the place. She gets noticed by guys we’ve seen before and others we haven’t. Juliet likes the attention and the reputation she’s built for herself. Stories have been known to circulate.
She sits in the corner seat with her back to the wall and peers out across the entire room with obvious excitement.
“Tone it down,” I command.
“What?”
“You’re an obvious beckon with flashing lights saying I want to get fucked tonight,” I declare lowly. “Lock that shit up or else you’ll attract all of the creepers.”
“Right,” Juliet replies, adjusting herself while pulling her v-neck shirt lower to expose more cleavage. She grabs the small drink menu in front of her from the table. “What should I have? Hmm….”
“A shot of common sense followed by a shot of I’m bored and want to go home,” I answer.
“Boring,” Juliet says in a sing-song voice. Her eyes stay engaged with the document in her hands.
I look around the bar after hanging my coat on the closest wall hook. There are some good-looking men tonight, but many already seem preoccupied by women or other men. There are a few I recognize from when we’ve been hunting here before, but I quickly shift my gaze to avoid eye contact with them.
We order drinks, and as they arrive, two guys approach us. I glance away as Juliet lets out a heavy sigh.
“Hey, girls,” the shorter one greets, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Hi, Jake,” Juliet replies with an unimpressed tone.
I could swear that Jake looks a bit different from the last time we saw him. I never got the details from Juliet as to why it all ended. Based on our conversation earlier, I’d have to assume it was a pegging issue.
Juliet has always been adventurous in the bedroom. Let me clarify. Juliet enjoys pushing a guy’s boundaries in the bedroom more so than her willingness to partake in such activities. I think she’s more curious than she’d like to admit, but she’s not willing to do it if a guy isn’t willing to let her do it to him first.
“What are you two up to tonight?” Jake continues, ignoring Juliet’s brush-off.
“Not you,” Juliet quips.
Jake laughs. “You liked it all those times before.”
“I was drunk each time,” Juliet counters. “I don’t remember much…other than disappointment.”
Jake’s friend hovers close by, pretending not to notice our friends’ conversation. He seems just as bored to be here like me.
Jake frowns with contention. “Well, I remember you screaming my name and I don’t mind reminding you if—“
Juliet’s hand darts up in his face. “Not interested.” She takes a sip of her drink and stands up, righting her clothes before moving toward someone who’s caught her eye.
“Not interested,” I inform when Jake looks at me.
“You know she liked it more than she wants to admit,” Jake claims.
“Wouldn’t know,” I sigh. “I wasn’t there.”
“You could be next time,” Jake offers, trying to be slick.
I laugh. “Not even in your dreams.”
“Leave her alone, Jake,” his friend states, stepping between us.
“I saw her first, Wes,” Jake claims.
I’ve known Wes’ name since we first met, but I purposefully pretend that I don’t remember it each time.
“Neither of you have a chance,” I quip. “I suggest you move along.”
Jake doesn’t budge. “She’ll be back.”
Wes rolls his eyes.
“Of course she will,” I return. “She came with me.”
“How many times has she come with you?” Jake asks with a creepy grin.
I lean forward and offer a smile and bit my lip. “I bet you’d like to really know that wouldn’t you?”
Jake leans past Wes’ arm, smiling from ear to ear.
“You enjoy torturing boys…particularly these two,” my inner voice says with a laugh. “Oh, I do love these moments.”
“How many times we’ve kissed…humped…and ate each other out,” I say, baiting Jake more.
Wes snorts as he takes a sip of his drink, dribbling a little onto his shirt.
“Good one,” my inner voice muses. “You got the cute player to fumble.”
Jake’s head bobs, eager for the juicy details.
I shift in my seat and lick my lips. “How many times I was able to satisfy her beyond your imagination and beyond your ability."
“I satisfied her,” Jake claims.
“If you did such a great job, why aren’t you two still fucking?” I lift my beer bottle and stick out my tongue, touching the rim right before taking a sip.
“She has a point,” Wes interjects with a grunt.
I laugh at how I’m roasting Jake and have a witness to it. “You’re an idiot if you believe anything has ever happened between my friend and me, and even if it did, you’re more of an idiot to think I’d tell you.”
“I could fuck you both so good that—“
Wes grabs Jake by the collar and yanks him away from me, placing himself between us.
“What the fuck, man?” Jake asks.
Wes sticks out his chest a little more and takes a step toward him.
“Alright,” Jake replies, holding his hands up. “Alright. Alright. She’s yours. I got you.”
“I’m not his,” I shout at Jake as he walks away. I take a gulp of my beer. “I’m not impressed.”
“I wasn’t trying to impress you.”
“Methinks you’re trying to impress him yet again,” my inner voice states.
“Right,” I laugh with a mocking tone. “This isn’t the first time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wes replies.
“Every time your friend and you see my friend and me, you both try to hit on us.”
“She did put out,” Wes reminds. “You can’t blame the guy if he’s pussy whipped.”
I snort, taking in a small bit of my beer into my nose which immediately starts to burns. Ducking out of the way, I search for a napkin while keeping my face covered.
“Here,” Wes offers.
“Thanks,” I say, begrudgingly taking it. I clean myself the best that I can without looking any more like a fool.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod, taking another sip as I look away.
“Oh no. What’s happening?” my inner voice asks.
“Well, at least we’re even.”
“Not funny,” I reply, wiping my nose a final time.
“So…why do you come out if you’re going to be grumpy every time?”
My brow lifts as I look back at Wes. “I’m not grumpy.”
“You might as well be wearing a sign that says—“
“Closed for business? Need not apply?” I reply sharply.
Wes chuckles. “No.” He thinks for a second. “I would have said stick up ass and unwilling to remove it.”
“I don’t have a stick up my ass,” I counter.
Wes leans back as if to check. He doesn’t comment, but his expression disagrees.
“Oh, girl, he just checked out your ass again. He so wants you,” my inner voice says excitedly.
“Your weak attempts of flirting aren’t working,” I inform.
“Who says I’m flirting?” He takes a sip of his beer.
“Look at his luscious lips wrapped around that bottle. That could be us,” sighs my inner voice.
“You’re still here…at my table,” I remind.
“You’re flirting with him too,” my inner voice balks.
Wes purses his lips and looks around the room. “It is a good spot.” He takes another sip. “Great view of eighty percent of all the asses in here.”
“Pig.”
Wes leans close to my ear—a little too close. “I didn’t mean the female rear-ends.”
“Right.”
“Most of the guys here are dicks,” he adds, finally pulling away.
“I’d say all of them.”
“I’m not a dick,” Wes claims.
“Says the player,” I counter with a snicker.
“He may be a player, but you and I know we both want to tap that,” my inner voice coos. “God. He always smells good too.”
“Who says I’m a player?”
My shoulders bounce. “Word gets around.”
“You should hear the rumors about your friend.”
I bite back a smile. “It’s her reputation, not mine.”
“So. Who says I’m a—“
“Simone!” Juliet shrieks with excitement, suddenly at my side. “Meet Leonardo. Isn’t he handsome?”
“Yes,” I agree, leaning away from Juliet’s intrusion on my personal space. My shoulder bumps into Wes, but he doesn’t move.
“Um, excuse me,” Juliet says, looking at Wes.
He doesn’t say anything, nor does he move.
“I need some alone time with my girl,” Juliet demands, flicking her hand at Wes to shoo.
Wes looks at me and then at Leonardo before walking away by a mere ten feet.
“Anyway,” Juliet huffs. “What was I saying? Right. Simone, this is Leonardo. Leonardo, this is Simone.”
“Hello, beautiful Simone,” Leonardo greets with an accent, he takes my hand and kisses it. “It is my pleasure to meet you.”
“He’s Italian!” Juliet says excitedly.
“Nice to meet you,” I reply, pulling my hand from his grip.
“We’re going to dance,” Juliet announces. She pulls him toward the open space where a few other people are dancing. I let out a sigh, thankful that I’m not going to have to engage in polite conversation with a stranger.
For the next hour, when I’m not glancing around the bar, finding Wes staring at me each time, I watch Juliet and Leonardo grinding on each other. My instinct is to chug more of my beer and look away, but I almost choke each time as the sickening spectacle flashes in my head.
“Here,” a voice to my left says.
A man’s hand extends with a glass of clear liquid.
I look up to find Wes. “What’s this?”
“Water,” he claims. “It’ll be easier and less likely to make you want to vomit.”
“Why would I—“
Wes points toward Juliet and Leonardo. “It is scary. I think it’s almost as bad as when she and Jake were dating.”
I curl my lips in, trying to hide my amusement. My hand reaches for the glass, but then I push it toward him. “I’m good.”
“Drink it,” he insists.
“I’m good with my beer.”
“Simone—“
“I don’t want it,” I say.
I usually do have water at some point in the night, but I’ve been nursing the same bottle of beer since we arrived.
“It’s only water.”
I pick it up, sniff it, and then slide it back toward him.
“Seriously?” he scoffs.
“Seriously,” I reply. “For all I know, you put a date-rape drug in there.”
“But would we honestly mind if he took advantage of us?” my inner voice asks.
Wes lets out a huff. “You know me.”
“Not really,” I reply.
“How many times have we seen each other?”
“Could still be drugged.”
“You didn’t seem to mind when we first met,” he reminds. “And, several other times when our friends were dating.”
“It’s still creepy.”
“How?” he snorts. “How is this time any different?”
I shrug. “I watched you buy those other ones.”
“Seriously?” he replies with a grunt.
“How am I supposed to know you aren’t a serial killer or rapist? You’re working on not appearing creepy to offer me a drink which then leads to suspicion that you are, in fact, trying to—“
“You watch too many violent shows,” Wes interjects.
“I don’t watch much tv. Besides, I’m merely realistic and—“
“Crazy,” Wes chuckles. He takes the glass and takes a sip. “There. If I was drugging you, then I’ve obviously drugged myself too.”
I peer down at the glass. “One, you sipped it, which wouldn’t be enough for a man your size. And, two, ew! I’m not drinking it now.”
“Germaphobe?” he laughs as he gulps half of the glass. Wes slams it down on the table, which makes it spill a little, and pushes it toward me. “There. Happy?”
“No.”
Suddenly, the table rocks and I find Juliet and Leonardo laughing and leaning on it. Wes catches the glass of water, blocking it from spilling on either of us.
“We’re going,” Juliet announces.
“Thank the lord!” my inner voice huffs. “We’re finally free from this night. Can we take the hottie to go though, please? It’s been way too long without any action. Shit. Look at how you keep talking to him. You need to get laid or else it’s just you and me forever.”
Juliet’s eyes scan Wes from head to toe. “Why are you bothering her?”
“Someone needs to keep an eye on her while you’re—“
Juliet darts her hand in front of Wes’ face. “It was rhetoric.”
“Rhetorical,” Wes corrects.
I literally almost snot on myself but recover with a cough.
“Did I ask you?” Juliet jabs with her hand on her hip.
“Is that one rhetoric?” Wes replies with a straight face.
My lips curl inward and I press down on them to prevent a smile.
“Damn, I forgot how funny he is too,” my inner voice muses. “Why can’t you just have one night with him? Please!”
Juliet isn’t dumb, but she doesn’t use her brain as regularly as she could and should. If she did, Juliet would actually find a decent guy rather than all the assholes she attracts.
“Ew,” Juliet gasps.
I quickly check my face, whipping my hand as nonchalantly as possible.
Thankfully, Juliet’s disgust is at Wes.
“Why are you even here?” Juliet returns snidely.
“We’re back at this again?” Wes replies with a smile, looking at me as if he’s waiting for me to react.
My head sways ever so slightly, hoping he doesn’t push that topic again.
“Weren’t you going?” Wes asks.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but we are,” Juliet confirms. “Come one, Simone.”
I catch a sly smile creep on Leonardo’s face.
“I’m not going with you two,” I reply with a chuckle, pulling my arm away from Juliet.
“You can’t be seriously thinking about staying with him?” Juliet gestures with her head toward Wes.
“I’m right here,” Wes quips.
I let out a sigh. “I’m not going with him.”
“Good,” Juliet replies, narrowing her eyes at Wes. “You’re too good for him.”
“You’ve got everything?” I ask Juliet, hoping to redirect her attention.
“Yeah,” she says with a smile.
“I’m serious.”
“Me too,” Juliet replies. “I’m good. You’re relieved of duty, mom.”
“Text me.”
“I will,” Juliet says with a wave of her hand in the air as she walks away with Leonardo in tow.
“She never texts,” my inner voice reminds. “You’ll think she’s been ditched in a dark ally until she suddenly staggers through the door."
“You trust her to—“
“Don’t!” I chide. I chance a glance at Wes. “Just, don’t.”
“Is it just me, or did something about that guy bug you?”
My brow lifts. “Asks the guy who offers me a drink that may be drugged.”
Wes rolls his eyes. “What now?”
“I’m going home.”
Wes steps back and offers me my jacket.
“Alone,” I state.
“I was just assisting you,” Wes claims.
I study him for a moment. With not a single sign of him appearing to be drugged or anything other than the Wes I know, I snatch the half glass of water and chug the rest of it.
Slamming the glass on the table, I shout, “There! Happy?”
“Just get home safe and then I’ll be happy.”
“Aww,” I sigh. “Player has a heart.”
“He’s got a cock too if you’d just be willing to use it like you need,” my inner voice states.