Page 85 of (Sur)real
“You should try it on,” he said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. My back is still sore.”
“Oh. Right. We’ll just get it then. And a swim suit. I’ll pick that out for you, too.”
I smothered my amusement.
“When do you think I’m going to wear either?”
“As soon as your back is healed. I’ll take you on a real date.”
“And a real date involves swimming?” I asked.
“If I’m extremely lucky, it does.”
I snorted and followed him as he looked at swim suits. The Others followed him, also, and outlined the suits enough to let me know the one he finally picked didn’t have much material to it. I’d never wear it, but I kept that to myself. He was having too much fun shopping for me to ruin it.
When we finished and paid, I thought he would say it was time to go back. Instead of calling it a day, he tugged me into another building.
The Others danced around the people in the restaurant, creating a mesmerizing display of movement to go with the mouthwatering smells coming from the kitchen.
“Table for two, please,” Jim said.
“Of course. It’s about a thirty-minute wait,” the host said.
“That’s fine.” Jim gave his name.
“If you’d like to go to the bar area, I’ll call you when your table’s ready.”
Jim took my hand and led me toward the long, curved bar off to one side of the dining area. The Others outlined the chair he held out for me. Not that I needed them. Jim gently guided me into the seat then ordered us both a beer.
“I’m guessing you’ve never had one before,” he said.
“You’d be correct. I’ve had wine, but no beer.”
“Yeah, Michelle described Blake’s dinners to us after a while. Beer’s better.”
When the bartender returned with a chilled glass, I took it, ready for my first sip. The beer bubbled on my tongue slightly. A hint of bitterness hit me. I swallowed, and the bitterness faded followed by a smooth aftertaste.
“Not bad,” I said.
“Not bad? Beer is the nectar of life.”
“I thought water was the nectar of life.”
“Whoever told you that lied and wanted you to suffer a life of sobriety.”
I snorted a laugh.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Says the person who’s never been tipsy. Drink up, buttercup.”
I arched a playful brow and drank deeply, draining half my glass.
“And what will you do when I’m drunk, and you have to take me back to the hotel? Michelle told me this is your favorite way to get into trouble.”
“Nah, it’s my favorite way to show girls there’s more to life than what they thought.”
