Page 67 of All This Time
Dilynne wraps her arm around my shoulders. “Who the hell cares? The point is, there are a ton of men in here, so you have your pick of which one gets to help you burn off some sexual aggression.”
“You make it sound like I’m about to mount someone in the middle of the bar and hump his leg.”
Dilynne pops her brows. “Dry humping is severely underrated.”
“I’m gonna need more alcohol,” I mumble around my straw as I suck down the bottom half of my drink.
It’s Friday night and, as planned, I’m out with Dilynne, my coworkers, and a few of our friends from around town. When Dilynne suggested this little excursion, I just imagined it would be just the two of us. Unfortunately, all of my friends are now involved in Operation: Laney Gets Her Groove Back.
The Charming Bull, a bar located about thirty minutes outside of town, is bustling with more people than I’ve ever seen. Although, I can’t tell you the last time I was out at a bar, so this could just be a normal Friday-night crowd.
“Maybe to take the edge off, you should ride the mechanical bull?” Dilynne gestures to the roped-off area where a girl is gyrating her hips against the bull beneath her, one hand thrown up in the air, her hair cascading wildly around her, exuding sexuality that I don’t think I’ve ever possessed.
“You want me to get off on a fake animal?”
“The stimulation is great if you press down hard enough.”
Shaking my head at my best friend, I signal to the bartender for a refill.
Ginny, our friend who manages the grocery store in Blossom Peak, comes sauntering up to us. “All right, I scoured the room and landed on two groups of potential men for you.” Brushing her red hair from her face, she discreetly points to the far-right corner. “That grouplooks like all blue-collar men—dirty hands, worn jeans, and steel-toed boots.” She licks her lips. “Those would be my first pick.”
Dilynne nods in agreement. “Two of them are wearing cowboy hats too, so that’s a plus.”
“Dear God,” I mutter, sucking down my second drink at record speed.
Ginny motions to the other side of the bar. “Now, over here we have the business type—button-down shirts, pressed slacks, leather loafers. I saw quite a few ankles over there, and a smattering of chest hair peeking out from the collars of their shirts, so also very good potential.”
“God, I love chest hair. It’s so under appreciated,” Dilynne adds. “A man with hair on his chest makes me feel a bit more like a cavewoman, and what we’re doing is more animalistic than not.”
Ginny motions to clink her glass against Dilynne’s. “I’ll toast to that.”
Glenn comes up to us now, a pout on his lips. “Straight, straight, straight,” he whines. “This bar is full of straight men. What does a gay man have to do around here to find someone to bang?”
“Go to a gay bar,” Dilynne replies dryly.
“Then next time, that’s where we’re going. The operation that night will be to getGlennlaid.”
“You know, we could do that right now, if you want?” I interject as the anxiety rises in my chest. I thought the alcohol would help me relax, but all it’s doing is feeding this uneasy feeling in my gut that I don’t want to be here.
Sure, there are some very attractive men in this bar, men that romance novels are written about, looks-wise. But none of them are making me want to put myself out there. None of them are familiar.
None of them are Fletcher.
Yup. It’s official. I think my head, heart, and vagina are broken.
Dilynne tsks. “Nice try, Laney. Tonight is about you. Now, which corner do you want to shimmy on over to first?”
“I’m not shimmying anywhere.”
“Girl, you’ve got to shake your ass a bit in that skirt. I’m telling you, as soon as you walk by that table of bona fide cowboys and they see the way your ass looks, they’ll start fighting over which one of them gets to take you home.”
“Knowing my luck, I’m gonna trip as I walk by and fall flat on my face.”
Ginny perks up. “Even better! Then they get to rescue you, and that’s always a great way to make a man hard.”
“You two have issues.”
“No, we are concerned for you and your vagina,” Ginny clarifies.
