Page 9 of The Holy Grail
“For Christ’s sake, I’m not an unimaginative asshole in bed, either.”
“Well, those are really your only two options, so …”
Eric’s face was a little flushed now, and she let him stew for a moment before continuing. “I’m not a vessel to be used for someone else’s pleasure, especially not someone who can’t even be bothered to make sure I have an orgasm, too. Which is actually pretty easy to do, by the way,” she added, seeing Evan move closer to her and Eric, as if trying to make sure to hear every word she was saying. “I don’t give any man the honor of fucking me just sohecan get off—I’m not that big of a philanthropist. I expect fucking to be mutually pleasurable, because otherwise, why do it? I mean, would you give a woman full access to your body and be totally fine with her using it to have an orgasm, only to hop off when she was done, unconcerned that you didn’t have one? Of course not.”
Eric was now looking pissed, but she didn’t stop. “Now, I can tell what I’ve said is not to your liking, and this is where you might be thinking I’m a bitch, or a rabid feminist who hates men, but I’m neither. I simply don’t like to be dishonest, especially if it’s in thename of protecting a man’s ego, andespeciallyin a sexual context. So, if you think your prowess in bed is something to be proud of, as well as something I’m misconstruing, then by all means, defend it to me. Make me change my mind.”
“You could have said something at the time,” he bit out. “I would have …”
When he didn’t finish, she said, “You would have what? Gone down on me out of obligation at that point? Which would have been a few flicks of your tongue and probably not much else? No, thanks. That would’ve been worse than you not going down on me at all. And I didn’t say anything because if you’re not interested in getting the most out of a sexual encounter with me, then I’m not going to try and convince you to do so. I know my worth, and I’m pretty good at learning from my mistakes … which means I know when to post an ‘L’ in the ‘Loss’ column and walk away.”
Jules was in no way shocked when Eric said, “So do I,” before getting to his feet and heading back to his bandmates at the other end of the bar.
Now alone with Evan, Jules expected him to make a comment—or several—but instead, he got her a glass of water, then picked up a rag and started wiping things down behind the bar, while making his way over to where the band was. Amused and curious, she sipped her water and watched.
After only a few minutes, she saw Evan ditch the rag, go to the cash register, print up a bill and slap it down in front of the drummer, who looked first confused, then angry at whatever Evan was saying to him, while the other band members exchanged uncertain glances. Whatever was happening between Evan and Eric seemed to escalate a little, their voices rising so she could hear them.
“You’re really going to do this?” Eric demanded. “Tonight?”
“Well, technically it’s nowtoday, but yes, I really am,” Evan replied. “The others can stay, but you have to leave.”
“I’m the fuckingdrummer.Hard for them to finish the set without me.”
“That’s not my problem.”
Eric got to his feet, an aggressive expression on his face, and Jules watched as Evan calmly stood his ground. Eric said something she couldn’t hear, and then Evan responded with, “If you want to take this outside, we can.”
Jules’ eyes widened. Evan was possibly getting ready for a bar fight?
“You serious, man?” Eric asked. “I’d kick your ass.”
“Well, you could try. But you should know I’ve been in more than a few fights in my life, starting in high school, and Ican hold my own.”
The two men held testosterone-fueled gazes for several seconds, until one of the band members said, “Fuck it, Eric. Let’s go.”
Evan backed away and went to the cash register to print up four more bills, then handed them out. They all tossed cash down, and when Eric did, he told Evan, “I want my fucking change back.”
After the band members were cashed out and Eric had gotten his change (which Jules could see was less than fifty cents), they went to the stage and began packing up their instruments and miscellaneous gear. They all seemed perturbed, but most of the ire appeared to be directed at the drummer.
As soon as Evan came back to Jules, she asked, “What was that all about?”
He shrugged. “The drummer was being a prick.”
“He was being a prick? That’s why you threw him out?”
“Yes. I don’t have to put up with pricks in my own bar, so … good riddance.”
“What was he being a prick about?”
Evan shrugged again, pretending to be busy cleaning the bar again.
“Hmm, well, I’m going to go out on a limb and assume it was about me? Did he say something insulting?” When Evan didn’t reply, Jules said, “Like … I was a bitch and didn’t have that good of a pussy anyway, so it wasn’t a big loss that I turned him down, because he could hook up with someone hotter anytime he wanted? Something like that?”
Evan stopped and frowned at her. “Jesus, how much did you overhear?”
“Nothing.” She chuckled softly. “However, I did slap him down pretty hard, and I figured he would talk some shit about me to save face with his friends. Men aren’t overly complicated creatures.”
“That may be true, but we’re not all pricks.”
