Page 31 of Boo-ty Calls
I should’ve made more friends along the way, and envy runs through me as I glance at the table across the way from the bar. Ladies decked out in their bar’s best laugh at something their friend has said and look content. They seem friendly enough, but fear of rejection holds me in place.
Words that come out of my mouth usually make everything awkward for everyone else.
Bending to the will of men has always been painless for me. Embracing the domme life myself has been easier than getting close to people, and now I’ve let my inner bitch run its course.
My therapist makes it very clear I should get out in the wild and make friends, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Everyone at my age already has their group, and I’m better off alone.
Adjusting my black tank top, I brush my hair behind my ear and curse myself for forgetting a hair tie.
Sensory issues have been my biggest battle in life outside of mental crap. I hate it, but it never changes, and I wish Archer were here. He always had one on his wrist and could pinpoint the moment I was going to lose it. I hate that he’s gone.
“Hey, can I buy you a drink?”
Glancing beside me, a guy with a buzz cut sits down. His icy blue eyes are intriguing, and the way his shirt hugs his biceps makes me smile.
“Sure,” I tell him.
He flags the bartender, and I finish the bottom of my drink. Placing the fresh one in front of me, I toy with the napkin.
“My name’s Ian, yours?” He's so cute.
“Sloane. What brings you out tonight?”
We clink our glasses together. I take a sip, and he swigs his like a dog.
“Was looking for the prettiest girl in the bar, and I’ve found her.”
Staring at him, I squint my eyes. Nothing he said answered my question, and I shake my head. “Flattery will get you nowhere, you know.”
“Is that so?” He cocks an eyebrow, and I already know I’ll go home with him. He’s been the only guy of interest tonight.
I shrug. “Heard it in a movie.”
He chuckles, and it’s an annoying nasal tone. Maybe I should wait for Mason to be back. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to please you.”
Do these lines actually work for people? I mean I’d be a hypocrite, but I just want a mindless fuck, so I guess they do.
“Alright, let’s go after this drink.”
He looks at me with a wide-eyed gaze, and his mouth drops open. “Seriously?”
“Apparently. I’m desperate. I hope you don’t mind.” I sip on my drink.
Ian stares at me, but closes his mouth and hops off his stool so fast that it almost falls over. “I’ll pay the tab.” He walks away to do so, and I finish half the drink before smoothing out my skirt.
He places his hand on my lower back when he returns and guides me out of the bar onto the street, where he unlocks a blue car. “I only had the beer. If you’d rather, I can order us a cab.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him. Getting in, I give him my address.
He titters on about random shit as I stare out the window, rolling my ankles. I hear them crack and wish I wore better shoes.
“This it?” he asks once he’s pulled into my driveway.
Why would you pull in if you weren’t sure, but whatever.
I nod, and he strokes my face before jumping out of the car to get my door. Chivalry isn’t dead after all.
Placing my hand in his, I adjust my bag on my shoulder, and we walk on the path.
