Page 98 of CowSex
“I’ve no idea, but play your cards right, it could be you later, Carmichael.”
“Shannon!” Dean admonishes.
“Oh hush, Dean, and pour me another wine.”
MO’S IS PACKED, MUCH BUSIERthan it was on Sunday night for the game. Luckily, Dean’s brother Mason is already here and has pulled two high-top tables and stools together and a piece of thick, folded paper, with ‘Reserved’ written on it, is sitting on top.
There’s table service tonight and as soon as we take our seats a waitress comes over to take our orders.
Lee drove us here, and we’re either going to taxi or Uber it back to the cabin. This means that Koa is drinking, and by drinking, I mean he orders a beer and a bourbon. He then asks the waitress to bring a bottle of wine for Shannon and me to share, rather than keep ordering individual glasses, so it looks like I’m drinking, too.
Koa helps me off with my jacket, and I settle myself on a stool. The band isn’t on the stage yet, and the jukebox is playing. There are few people already on the dance floor, and the place has a really good buzz about it.
It suddenly strikes me how at home I feel. I’ve been here a little over a week, and my life has done a completeFresh Prince, it got flipped and turned upside down. These people are now my friends, this is my new normal, and Koa is my new, I don’t know what.
I decided right at that moment to get over myself, enjoy my surroundings, the company, and to drink copious amounts of wine.
Koa stands next to my stool, his arm resting across the back. I watch as one after the other, both men and women come up and shake his hand and tell him that it’s good to see him.
When a tall, lean man, who’s wearing black jeans and a checked flannel shirt, makes a beeline towards us, Koa steps away from me and towards him. I can’t hear their exchange, but I watch the handshake and man cuddle that goes on between them. Koa obviously knows this man better than most of the others who have stopped by to say hello.
He turns and faces me, a big smile on his face, and then the man steps forward.
“Gracie, this is Blake Edwards, he’s the bass guitarist for our band.” I smile and hold out my hand. “Blake, this is my girl, Gracie Elliott.”
I stop smiling.
No. I don’t. I keep smiling, but it’s now frozen in place.
He just introduced me as his girl.
His fucking girl.
“Hey, Gracie, pleased to meet you.”
I keep smiling as he takes my hand. Koa watches me. I smile some more and eventually manage, “Hi, it’s good to meet you.”
Hi? Fucking hi? Since when did I start saying hi? I’m becoming Americanised. And, apparently, Koa’s girl.
Americanised and Koa’s girl and I’ve only been here a week. See? Flipped, turned, and all upside down.
The people start to clap and cheer, and it’s because the band is making their way to the stage. Koa leans in and asks right into my ear, “You okay, Essex?”
“Yep, I’m good.”
“Blake reckons these guys are outstanding. Our label is looking at signing them, that’s why he came to check them out.”
I nod.
“You told him I was your girl.”
He’s looking at the stage and not at me.
“You got a problem with that? Is that not what you are?”
“You tell me?”
He finally turns and looks at me, takes a swig from his bottle and says, “Yep, you’re my girl.”
