Page 5 of When You Left Me Speechless

“I don’t need your help.” I can feel my blood pressure rising as he continues to badger me. A group of people push through the middle of us, heading towards the bar.

“What about her?” He gestures towards another girl dressed like some pop singer.

I let out a frustrated groan. Someone else runs into me, almost knocking my drink from my hands and pushing me over the edge.

“If you won’t, then I?—”

“When will you grow up? I mean fuck, man, we are going to be thirty this year. Is it the worst thing that I want something more than a one-night fuck?”

“Geez, didn’t realize I was getting drinks with my dad tonight.” He puts his hands up in defense. “Who pissed in your Cheerios?”

I keep my eyes locked on the TV in front of us.

“Let’s drop it,” I say through gritted teeth. “I think I’m going to head out after this beer.”

His eyes dart around the room and land on a ping-pong table in the corner of the bar. “Look, I’ll tell you what, beat mein a game of ping-pong, and I’ll leave you alone about it. Lose, and you have to stay and let loose. Prove to yourself that your dick still works.”

I take a long sip of my beer and try to ignore him. It’s almost gone, and then I can get out of here.

“What, you don’t think you can win?” he gloats.Fucking jackass.My competitive nature comes from my father, and while I try to be nothing like him, I can’t deny that I like a challenge. Whether it be sports, a board game, or a bet, I like to win and rarely back down from the opportunity.

“One game,” I bite out, turning and walking toward a ping-pong table that a couple dressed like Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky are using like a bed. Tanner grabs another round of drinks and the paddles from the bartender.

“We're playing here,” I bark out. The couple comes up for air and disappears into the crowd.

“Alright, so if I win, you have to stay and try to have some fun, and if you win, you can go back to your depressing single life and your right hand,” he explains.

“Deal, asshole.”

He serves the small orange ball and our game starts. I watch it fly back and forth over the net. Tanner is good, but I’m better. The first one to eleven points wins and I know I have this in the bag.

“Fuck yeah, 9-9, you’re done for,” he yells across the table. I take a quick swig of my beer and serve the ball. He misses.

“10-9,” I shout. Tanner serves and I return the ball with a hard, backhanded swing causing me to fall off balance and into someone walking by.

“Oh shit, you okay?” I ask the pretty brunette trying to regain her balance in front of me. She reaches her arm out and wraps a hand around my bicep steadying herself. The skin beneath it electrifies. I’m engulfed in the scent of her perfume, and it instantly improves my mood. My eyes search her body for any sign that I may have hurt her. I can’t help but noticethe pink dress that hugs every curve of her small frame. “Are you hurt?”

“I’ll live,” she laughs and shakes her head, “just watch where you’re going, big guy.” She offers me a smile before turning and disappearing into the crowd of famous nineties look-alikes.

My head whips toward my friend, who looks like I just kicked his ass. “Score?”

“11-9, what kind of cheap shot was that? Let’s make it the best two out of three?”

“No, we’re done,” I shout, throwing the paddle in his direction. I hear him yell something, but I can’t make out what he says over the blare of the music. I take off through the crowd. I make it a few feet from the bar when I see her again.

Long dark curls hang down her back and contrast against her peach-colored skin. That tight, little pink dress barely covers her ass. She is pressed up against the bar, waving her hand in an attempt to get the bartender to notice her, but he is flirting with some chick dressed like Britney Spears on the other side of the bar and doesn’t see her.

“Hey man,” I yell loud enough to get his attention and then gesture to the brunette now standing to my right. She turns to face me and smiles. Her eyes are a deep sapphire blue, and her freckles cover her entire face. The light catches the small jewel sparkling in her nose. She’s gorgeous.

“So, is this your way of saying sorry?” she asks.

“What?”

“Well, you almost crushed me back there, so I figured you followed me to offer to pay for our drinks.” She places her hands over her heart and looks up at me with those eyes. “You know because of how awful you must feel about it.”

A laugh escapes my throat, “Well, this is awkward because I was actually coming over to get an apology from you. Iremember you running into me and almost costing me the game.”

“I did not,” she argues.

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