Page 6 of The Other Guy

“Wow, who knew you had a family,” I joke, taking another long drink. “What’s she doing here?”

He looks over at her, leaning harder onto the bar as he says quietly. “She needed a place to stay for a while. Got here about a week ago.”

I study Kyle, noticing that he seems protective over his niece and I’m not sure if it’s because of her being family or something else entirely. Either way, I let it go. I’m not the bartender here to listen. That’s his job.

“Having fun with her?”

The corner of his mouth ticks up and he crosses his thick tattooed arms over his chest, resting them on the little bit of extra weight he carries around his gut. “She’s a handful.”

I laugh as an eruption of cheers sounds behind me from the direction where Sierra is playing pool. I have no doubt that Kyle having a younger woman (or anyone, for that matter) live with him for any amount of time would be different for him.

“She’s hustling those dumbasses and they don’t even care because they keep staring at her ass and tits. Stupid fuckers.” His voice holds both irritation and pride.

Now I really laugh. “Uncle Papa bear is a little protective, huh?”

“If I’m not, who would be?”

Before I have the chance to ask where her dad is, he’s called away by another customer. My phone buzzes with a text and I pull it out of my pocket, feeling like a giant loser for sitting in a bar by myself and focusing on my phone.

16: I’m going to sound clingy and I swear that’s not me. However, I’m hanging out with friends tonight and we were wondering if you were up for a little… well, use your imagination.

Holy shit.

Is she asking for him to be in a threesome or foursome or however many people she’s hanging out with? This guy. I can’t decide if I hate him or am jealous of him. Maybe a little of both. Most definitely, actually.

I don’t know what to do here. Usually the women ask for a repeat a few times and I turn them down and eventually explain that I’m not interested in a relationship. However, I have a feeling that if I don’t reply, she’s going to keep texting and wondering what kind of guy turns down sex with a room full of women. At least that’s where my imagination is heading.

Because I can’t help myself and my curiosity wins, I type out:

Me: Just how many friends are we talking?

16: Have I piqued your curiosity?

Me: Obviously, temptress.

16: Temptress? Moi? **cheeky grin

Me: Yes, you.

16: So? What’s the answer?

I’m not a prude but I’ve never been with more than one woman at a time, even if the offer was being extended to me and not Toolbag, I’d likely be turning her down. Or at the very least admittedly a little nervous and about to jizz in my pants with excitement. That’d be embarrassing.

Me: Wish I could but I’ve got an early morning so I’m in for the night.

16: Funny.

Me: What is?

16: I’m staring at you right now and you’re chatting it up with a red head and NOT texting me.

Fuck.

I scrub a hand down my face and can’t help the chuckle that escapes. I knew this would probably happen eventually. Or at least some version of it. I just didn’t expect it to happen with 16.

“What’s got you laughing?” Kyle asks, sliding a beer to the customer next to me.

“Nothin’. Just… you don’t even want to know. The shit that happens to me, man.”

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