Page 40 of SIN Bone Deep

“My drink was spiked, and one of the guys you signaled on the way in tried to shove a pill down my throat with his tongue.”

“No…” He protested. “No…”

“V for virgin?” I held up my fingers making the gesture he had made.

“My ball,” Fleur saw the gesture. “Are you talking about football?”

“Not really,” Xander muttered. “Fuck.”

A football signal, between team members. My ball. He had been signaling to his friends “my ball” about me, rather than “virgin”. I reviewed the night in my head. Had he been interested in me, claiming me as his date to the party, and I, with a Vossens’ suspicion of men, thought that he was being a creep?

“Maybe…” I was embarrassed and apologetic. “Maybe I misunderstood.”

“Just a little,” Xander said quietly. “But I understand why. Things get a bit wild at these parties.”

“I’m sorry for misinterpreting.” I felt terrible.

“It’s no big deal,” he decided. “We’ll start over. Let me buy you a drink?”

I glanced at Mal and shrugged awkwardly. “I’m sort of seeing someone.” Two someones, I added ruefully to myself. Mal had been understating it when he said that I had made things complicated.

“Exclusive?” Xander asked.

“Not… really,” I admitted.

“Well, then, why not?” He asked cheerfully. “If it’s not exclusive, no harm, no foul.”

“I guess…” I didn’t want to lead him on, but it was also very flattering that he was interested in me, especially considering my misunderstanding of his intentions at the party. Boys like Alexander St Astor the Third didn’t ask Vossen women out on dates, which was pretty much what he had done.

“Great,” he seemed relieved.

“Here we are!” Mal announced cheerfully as he pulled up before the smaller of the two Mortensby bars. This was the original establishment in town and had been built near the railway to lure workmen traveling by train to stop by for a drink before returning home after a long day at work. A second, higher class, tavern had been established toward the center of town and operated a gaming room, a dining room, a wine bar as well as a sports bar.

This bar had remained basic - one room that curved in an L around the bar, and several small rooms available on the second story that were charged by the hour.

Mal’s Porsche pulled up between a row of motorbikes, and a collection of beaten-up work trucks. The men that loitered outside, smoking and admiring each other’s bikes, looked up as we piled out of the Porsche.

One laughed and elbowed his friend. “Fresh meat has arrived.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I said to Xander.

“Nonsense,” Mal said cheerfully as he opened the door to the bar. “Relax, Nyx. No harm will come to you here.”

“We come here all the time,” Xander told me under his breath as we followed Mal into the bar. I blinked as my eyes transitioned from the bright sunlight outside to the dimly lit interior. It smelled of old alcohol, smoke, and sweat. Considering the time of the day it was busy, with the pool table already in use, and most of the seats at the bar filled.

All of the patrons were men. By instinct Fleur and I drew closer together as the men went to the bar to order.

“You are local?” Fleur tried to start a conversation.

“Yes. My family has been in Mortensby from the very beginning,” I replied. “I am on scholarship.”

“Ah. My mother, she re-married,” Fleur said, her eyes on Dawson. “My new stepfather is a politician. He says that in this country, anyone who wants to be anyone must attend Pinegrove. It is where friendships are made that ensure business success, and that the right people marry the right people. He wants that for me, although I am not his blood.”

“You are starting this year, too?” I asked her, hoping that this experience might at least leave me with one friend at the school.

“Yes. Modern languages.”

“Oh. We might be in some of the same classes. Comparative literature,” I explained.

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