Page 91 of Love Me Like It's Real
I let out a sigh and turn it into a cough to cover it up and smile before I face her.
“I don’t know, sweetie. Hayworth is a busy man.”
“But you have invited him over for dinner, right?”
I bite my lip and shake my head. “Actually, I don’t think I have.”
“You should!” Arya shouts from her corner where she’s playing with her dolls and racecars.
“I…I’ll think about it,” I tell them and go back to searing the chicken but of course now I’m thinking of him again.
Would he say yes if I asked him and would it be genuine if he accepted or part of the ruse we’ve created that I can’t even remember why right now.
How have I fucked things up so much so quickly? What happened to me-time? What happened to taking a break from men?
No, it’s that thinking that got me into trouble in the first place. I’ve denied myself my sexuality and kept myself prisoner of my own responsibilities. Of course it would all come spilling out the first time I got some attention from a man.
I need to do something. I need…to get over him. I need to quit him while I’m ahead.
Am I ahead though?
And if popular belief is to be presumed true, there’s one way to get over someone. It’s by getting under someone else.
“Hey, girls.” I turn back to them. “I think I might go out tonight?—”
“With Hayworth?”
I press my lips together and nod. “Do you mind if I call Cheyenne, see if she’s available?”
“No. We love Cheyenne,” Arya says and I get to work.
I dial Cheyenne and check she can pop by, after first reassuring her I don’t need her to stay the night, and finish up dinner.
Cheyenne arrives just as I’ve set the table and the girls drag her to the dinner table with them while I get ready. I might be hungry but I’m also determined and I need to act now.
I put on a floral blouse with long loose sleeves and a deep neckline, a pair of painted-on black jeans and apply a thick line of eyeliner and black lipstick to match and I’m on my way.
I don’t even know where I’m going. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know I need to dosomething.
And right on time I pass the Forbidden Maple. A big sign outside makes me pull over and find solace in the speakeasy full of people for the Valentine’s Tag Event.
If you’re tagged with a heart you have to kiss, or hug the person who tagged you. Always ask for permission. Keep the heart moving. Sounds simple. And just what I need. A bar full of single eligible men to take my pick from. Yeah, as with most other events it’s non-sexuality specific so there are also a lot of straight people in the mix, but I don’t care. Maplewood is a queer town. I’m sure there are plenty of available people I can get over Hayworth with.
But first things first.
“Beer please. And lots of it,” I tell the bartender.
“What kind? I’ve got our local brew Doctor Hop, which is an American IPA, Doctor Light, a pilsner, and Doctor Maple, our maple lager.”
“Doctor Maple please. Two.”
The bartender gives me the thumbs-up, pours my beers and I go hunting.
The place is buzzing with good spirits and entertainment. Every so often I hear a cheer as another person gets tagged and the tagged kisses the tagger. It adds a little thrill to the whole night, wondering when or where the next tag will come from and whether I’ll be next.
Even so, the tag passes me by even after I have my two beers and I return to the bar for another one but there are so many people waiting to be served I quickly lose hope it will happen this century.
“Hey,” someone says and I turn my attention from the struggling bartenders to the guy next to me.
