Page 11 of For Fillies and Monsters

We drank—we dranka lot. People were sending drinks to Dale and I all afternoon. Most anonymously, or with a comment similar to“This came from so and so for all your hard work with the kids, Miss Dale”or,“From the mom over there. She said thanks for putting up with her hellion”, or my personal favorite,“Miss Dale, my kid thinks you’re the best!”. It is beyond comical to see how the town showers Dale in praise and gallons of alcohol. But I know no one deserves the love and adoration more than the fiery woman before me.

“I thought I was going to have to gnaw off my arm.” I giggle, another hiccup mixing with the sound. Dale looks at me, her face flushed a deep crimson color.

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything? I didn’t want to be rude or come off as a fatty, but I’ve been dying for hours.”

“Wanted to see how drunk you would get,” I hiccup with a shrug.

Dale leans over, hitting my arm with a thump. In the same movement, her stool tips, sending her flailing toward me in a wave of black hair and a slurry of cuss words. We crash dramatically in a heap on the floor, both gasping for breath. Tears stream unrestrained down the swells of my heated face, and I suck in ragged breaths between cackles.

“Here, let me help you up.” A warm hand wraps firmly around my elbow, pulling me up from the dusty floor. Without looking at the bystander, I extend my hand out to Dale who is now sprawled on the floor, her eyes glassy and her lips in a ‘o’ shape. She wiggles her eyebrows, winks, and then rolls over to push up—effectively ignoring my attempt at ignoringwhoever is staring at us.

As she stands, she grips my arms, rising on her toes to whisper not so quietly into my ear.

“He might not be your type, but he’s everyone else’s. You should take a ride on the wild side; you might just find out you like it.” Her words fan across my neck, smelling strongly of mint and Vodka. I roll my eyes and turn around.

The man who had pulled me up, is in fact, not my type; just as Dale said. But also like Dale said, I am a woman and I can appreciate how he could definitely be anyone else’s. Even if I doubt there is anything “wild” about him.

He has dirty blonde hair that is cropped short on the sides, with longer waves dusting the top of what has to be a solidly built six feet, if not more. His face, as smooth as the day he was born, is all angular lines with a strong jaw, long, thin nose, thin pale lips, and slashing pale eyebrows. His deep blue eyes sear into my skin, and I squirm with the familiar sensation of feeling naked and looked upon. Because he is looking at me like Iamnaked, and he likes what he sees.

Gross.

He is a little too primly dressed for my liking, but I can also appreciate a man who likes to dress nicely. His dark jeans have a long, taunt crease down the front from heavy starching, with a crisp pale pink pearl snap tucked into them. His shiny brown boots, and a brown belt all match so perfectly,too perfectly.

“Stetson, this is Nathan Swith. Nathan, this is my dear friend, Stetson. She just moved back here from Colorado,” Dale states, her voice hinting at a laugh. She is clearly trying to cut the tension that is awkwardly building between me and the pretty boy, and I still don’t know what to say or do. He makes my toes curl with his icy stare. And being the fucked up human that I am, I like being uncomfortable.Even if he is prettier than I am.

He blinks, breaking the trance between us, and sticks out alarge pale hand toward me. His eyes never waver from my face, and the heat of an unwanted blush climbs up my neck.

It is the alcohol. It has to be.

“Nice to meet you, Stetson. Might want to try staying off the floor here, it’s known to get pretty nasty.”A small smile tips his pale lips to the side. I smile back at him and nod, like an idiot.

Of course, I know the bar floors get nasty.

“Thanks, I don’t know what happened.” It’s all I can squeak out.I obviously know what happened. Dale is hammered and fell off her stool like a dork.But my brain cells aren’t firing at full speed—from the alcohol. Because it certainly can’t be from the pretty boy. He chuckles, shaking his sandy blonde hair.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, his smile growing in wattage. A dimple appears on his left cheek, and my eyes itch to roll. Of course, he would have a dimple. It makes him look boyish, hot boyish, but still boyish. I shake my head and turn to look at Dale whose eyes look like a cartoon character, glassy and wide. Her head is currently whipping back and forth between our faces, her hands clasped to her chest.

I need to get her out of here—is she humming the wedding march?

“Not tonight, I think we’ve had about enough to drink. What we need is some food.” I don’t think she will last long enough to eat pizza even if I order it now, and I have no clue how we’re going to leave; Dale managed to not only get me trashed as she had promised, but herself in the process. There aren’t Ubers in nowhere Texas—lucky me. I will have to figure it out.

“Thanks, though.” I don’t want to be rude—he is the first man who has been even remotely nice to me, but I need to get Dale home safely. Plus, there’s food there that we won’t have to wait on.

She’s all that matters right now.

“How ‘bout I drive you? Neither of you looks like you should get behind the wheel.” He extends his hand to me, and I stare down at the baby soft palm. No calluses;strike one against Pretty Boy.

“Uhm, are you sure?” I stammer, although I really hope he says yes. This doesn’t feel appropriate for someone I just met, but I also don’t know how else to get home. Dale’s small hands wrap around my arm.

“Oh, sweet Stet. This nice man wouldn’t offer if he wasn’t sure.” She croons and I swear there are heart’s beating in her eyes.

“Come on Dale, let’s get you and your beautiful friend out of here.” His hand is still outstretched, ready to pull me through the now dense crowd of evening bar hoppers. Dale nudges me, and I reluctantly place my hand in the envelope of his soft fingers. Dale is giggling behind me like a lunatic and starts skipping toward the door.

“Yes, yes. Me and my beautiful friend, need saving. No doubt about it!” Dale is breathless and I can see her clasping her hands to her chest again. I groan.

Get me the fuck out of here.

We step through the crowd, Nathan’s hand never releasing mine, and I fight every instinct to pull my hand from his and wipe it down the front of my jeans. He is too soft, and it is throwing me for a loop.I don’t like soft.

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