Page 21 of Love Bitters

Murphy

The noise level in the bar tonight is almost enough to drown out the voice in my head telling me what a sad life I’m living at present. I’ve been here for just a little over an hour but only had one beer. Leaving my car here and having to either call a cab or Evan to come pick me up isn’t an option. I don’t trust the shady sons of bitches around here, nor do I feel like having to face any of my friends right now. We’ve actively been avoiding each other since Imma walked in then back out of our lives and smashed all our walls to bits. No part of it is their fault, but I can’t seem to get my shit together. I don’t want to face the harsh reality of the situation. Especially since I’ve been skating on thin ice since last fall anyway.

Keeping my eyes down on my hands rotating the beer bottle, I don’t make any kind of contact with people here. No one needs to get the wrong idea and think I’m here for anything other than distancing myself from this clusterfuck of my life. In my peripheral, I see bikers getting rowdy in the corner but not enough to get them kicked out. There’s a set of couples over at the pool table, likely on a double date of sorts. The women keep giggling at everything their companions say then finding a way to touch them. New relationships for sure. Little Ms. Imma and I kind of skipped that part. Not like either of us were complaining. Everything with her felt right, so I didn’t have this desire to try hard to be something more than what I am. She made me feel like I was good enough even though I was hard pressed to believe that I deserved her sweetness in my life. Let alone with four of my friends on top of that.

I’d fought my attraction to her for days at that cabin. When she came to me naked as the day she was born looking freshly fucked, I knew I was in trouble. Those big blue doe eyes did me in right where I stood in the shower. Then, in a first for us both, we’d fooled around under the spray of water before moving to my bed. I refused to tell anyone that it was the best sex of my life. For all the insecurities our woman may have, she truly doesn’t understand what all those curves in all the right places does to me. I know neither Thatch nor Wes had slept with a curvier girl before Imma, but even they couldn’t help trailing behind her with their tongues lolling out. And as if that weren't enough, Ollie and Evan got attached. It was amazing and interestingly stupid of us to consider that emotions weren’t going to get involved. I knew for a fact that we weren’t going to leave that vacation or her behind us.

Of course, when we got back home, things were a little different but only in how we didn’t have her living with us, though she might as well have been since she spent almost every night with us anyway. Evan and I had even talked about mentioning her moving in with us to the other guys, but we’d decided to wait a couple more months. Everything had just moved so fast. Hell, the whole thing had probably spooked her, and that was why she’d decided to leave us. Unless, by some miracle, she changes her mind, I guess we’ll never know the real answer to that.

Taking another swig of my beer, I almost gag at the ashy taste the sad, bitter thoughts have left in my mouth. I’d love nothing more than to drown my sorrows in a fifth of Jack, but that’ll solve nothing and I’ll feel like shit in the morning because of it.

As if the universe wants another good laugh at my expense, my eyes flick to the door of the bar as a face I recognize strolls through. Once upon a time, I was a groveling sad excuse for a man begging that long-legged blonde to take me back. The mere mention of her name would have my chest aching.

Now? There’s nothing.

It’d be a different story if it had been our curvy little Imma, which really makes me wonder about how many times a single person can get over heartbreak.

It’s clear the moment I’ve been spotted. The woman’s lips purse together with a sly grin before turning to her friends to mutter something in their direction. None of them even bat a fake eyelash when she splits off from their little group and heads straight for where I sit. The urge to fidget on my barstool is strong, but not from anxiety like it used to be. Simple unease of not wanting to deal with her tonight is all.

“Hey, Murphs,” she says in greeting, using the name she knows I’ve always hated.

“Britt,” is all I reply, watching with disgust as she lowers herself to the stool beside me.

Her arms fold across the bar, and she uses them to push her tits up. “Never thought I’d see you in here,” she remarks, not needing any kind of encouragement or response from me to keep going. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” I reply, tipping my beer back again.

My one word answers don’t bother her. There’s no doubt she wouldn’t even give a shit if I’d said terrible. It’s not like she was asking because she cares. One thing I learned while being with her is that Britt only does things for Britt. No one, and I mean no one, else.

By the time I see her hand, it’s too late to stop its course. Her fingers brush down my beard not stopping until they’re laid on top of my chest. “This is new. I kind of like it. The whole rugged mountain man look. It’s so in right now.”

Lifting my elbow, it knocks her hand away from touching me, but she’s not so easily thwarted. It simply gives her the opportunity to wrap that hand around my bicep.

“Have you been working out, Murphs?” she asks. “Your arms are getting huge.”

There are days when I feel like being caught in the spotlight beam of this woman, and they don’t end in Y, which is none. Tonight is just not the night to be playing this cat and mouse game with me.

Shaking her hand again until it lands back on the bar, I snap, “What do you want, Britt?”

Anger flashes across her features before they settle back down into the mask that she fools everyone with.

“I miss you,” she whines. “I didn’t realize how much until I saw you sitting here. The girls brought me out tonight because I needed to have some fun. What do you say? Want to give me a head start to the ladies, and we can have some fun together?”

Any man in this bar would give his left testicle to have those long tanned legs wrapped around his waist as he pounds into her. I used to think she was the most gorgeous creature to walk the earth. Short blonde hair down to her shoulders, big green eyes, pouty lips begging to be kissed. That was one of the biggest lessons of my life. Sure, people can be pretty on the outside, but that doesn’t change that shit can still be wrapped in gold. I won’t be that fool tonight. I’ve been there, done that, and wear the emotional fucking scars from it.

“Can’t,” I grunt. “Got a girlfriend.” It’s a lie that I wish in the deepest part of my soul was true.

Britt spins on her seat and stands, brushing her fake tits against my arm before putting her mouth as close to my ear as I’ll allow. “She must not be a very good one if she’s letting you sit alone like this. I’ll be over there if you change your mind. You’ve still got my number, I’m sure.”

Holding my breath until she walks away, I let out a sigh of relief. She doesn’t have to know I deleted that shit months ago. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. My mama may have raised me to respect women but she didn’t raise me to be an idiot. If Britt was so keen on keeping me around, then she wouldn’t have broken up with me in the first place.

Seriously, of all nights for me to run into her. But there’s another old saying my mama used to tell me all the time, never question or say that it can’t get worse because it can.

Point proven when that damn door opens again and in walks the only other person on my never want to see again list. I’m not sure what I’ve done to earn this dump on my head, but I’d gladly do anything within my power to fix it.

“’Sup, bro?” a bland voice says, taking Britt’s vacated stool.

“How’s it goin, Garcia?” I reply curtly while flagging the bartender with a finger.

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