Page 110 of Unhinged

I cross my arms and shrug. “Yeah, sure. We’re friends.”

She slaps her hand on the counter. “Huh-uh. I mean the soulmate-level, heart-stopping, eternal-love kind that you would kill for. The kind that sets your damn bedsheets on fire.” Or hoses them.

“Shit,” I mutter.

“Final answer?”

I prop both hands on the bar and bow my head, tired of the lies. “No… I don’t know.”

“That’s insane bullshit right there.” She sighs, and I look up. “I tried to save your love. You two are exhausting. I’m done. Y’all figure it out. Night-night.”

Candi leaves me stunned and petrified yet determined.

I walk over to Simone, who’s giggling with whatshisprick. Seeing her laughing, I slow because watching her with someone her age makes her look even younger while I’m washed-up like Richmond’s favorite sports anchor. It’s not a huge age gap. She would’ve been in kindergarten to my sixth grade or my high school senior year to her sixth grade. Still, it’s enough when she should be partying and not wasting her time with a geriatric stick in the mud like me.

However, before I bail, the dickhead touches her hand, playing with the ring she wears on the finger a wedding band should be.

Damn it.

Sliding a hand into my hair, I take a deep breath and walk over to Simone as she turns. We stop abruptly to avoid crashing into each other. Simone says, “I like your shirt.” She giggles as I look down, forgetting what the hell I’m wearing. I look like a 4-H reject, not in on the joke.

“Ha. Ha.”

“What are you doing from out behind the bar? I’m not dancing with you again, especially with you looking like you’re doing a public service announcement for your probation sentence.” She fights a smile, and I want to take her back into the storage room.

“Okay, then.”

Behind Simone, I see the Henry Danger wannabe sit down, watching me with her. Oh, fuck to the no. I can’t even let Simone debate this, so I tear a page from when I asked Shasta to Morgan’s Halloween party. Looking back at Simone, I try not to stutter as a louder song plays. “You. Me. Going out tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

Simone shakes her head. “No, I didn’t.”

A woman sitting at a nearby table grabs Simone’s arm, making her look at the lady. “It was a lousy attempt to ask you out, honey.”

I scowl at the bone-thin hag, who I think used to be a librarian at my middle school. Simone swings her attention back at me with shock clearly smashed on her face like a pie. She stutters more than me. “On a date? Why?”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re dating another woman.”

The hag shakes her head and grabs Simone’s wrist again. “A Lothario bartender? He’ll only use you to get his jollies but always return to her.”

I snap, “Jollies? Who in the hell says that shit?” Since Simone is carrying an empty tray tucked against her, I clutch her elbow and try to steer her from the wench, but I don’t get far. Simone looks up at me, still surprised or doubtful. “I want to take you out somewhere. Just for fun. I mean, we’re married.”

The busybody leans toward Simone from her chair. “Y’all are married, but he’s only now asking you out? Jeez Louise, girl. Trade up.”

“Could you please?” I gripe to Olive Oyl as I lead Simone further away, still.

Simone chews on her lip as if she’s pondering an excuse not to go. I notice the bland co-ed staring at Simone’s ass and whispering to his cronies. They’re staring at the ass I held as I fucked his next dream conquest. I’m dying to break a nose like my new brother-in-law did to his brother-in-law, Jared. I just have to work out for four years straight.

I turn up the charm. “Please go out with me, doodlebug.” I lick my lip and cock an encouraging eyebrow, hoping I look pathetic enough she takes pity on me. Just so I can keep her from dating the cumwad that’s pounding her ass from across the room.

Simone’s responding grin dazzles, and I automatically smile back. Still appearing dazed, she nods. “Okay, swizzle stick. I’ll go out with you. Where are we going?”

“Uh…”

---