Page 60 of Third Time Lucky

Elliot is laughing with Calamity as she bumps their hips together, and he looks so relaxed and happy, there’s no way I’m complaining.

Beer-bro mission accomplished.

Sort of.

I’m dancing across from him, too tipsy for my own good and mentally reenacting all the fantasies I’ve had about him for the last few days. Of course, while I’m doing that, he might be debating whether or not he’d like to give being the lone penis in a Calamity sandwich a try.

He might want to shake her hand.

I pretend exhaustion and turn back toward the bar. Calamity’s girlfriend is the best bartender in the world, because she’s already handing me a bottle of icy-cold water.

“I’m going to tip you like you’ve never been tipped before.”

She laughs, but her attention is drawn back to our clumsily dancing duo, and I have no choice but to join her. They look good together. Superman and Poison Ivy.

Don’t be a dick.

“It’s like accidentally grabbing a comet and trying to hold on with her.” Patricia leans against the bar, pensive despite the loud music and boisterous crowd. “Impossible, but you’ve still got to try, because how often does someone like that come along? You know?”

She’s talking about Calamity, but I can’t take my eyes off of Elliot. “Not very often.”

Calamity whispers something in Elliot’s ear, and then they’re both looking in my direction with matching mischief in their eyes. What exactly am I about to agree to?

“I think your break is over.”

“This should be fun.”

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