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Not that that appears to be in the cards anytime soon.
I walk Lance around the park for a good sixty minutes before we head home. Though he’s happy with his walk, I know he could keep going for a few more hours. He’s used to two long walks a day, and the odd occasion when I go running, I take him, too. Without his exercise, he’ll destroy the house and everything in it. My own fault for getting a Weimaraner.
After I feed Lance and order myself a pizza, we sit down together on the sofa and watch some TV. I feel bad about leaving him at home to go out, but he doesn’t seem to mind too much, especially when I pull out the fresh bone I got for him at the butcher’s. I’m all for bribing my dog—especially if it’s going to protect my furniture.
At nine o’clock I arrive at Bar Nein, a German pub not far from Grant’s place. He’s already there with a few of his friends. I walk over and join them.
“Dude, no way. You can’t honestly tell me you’d rather wear the same pair of unwashed underpants for a year over the same pair of socks,” a guy says to Grant, his hand on his chest to get his point across.
“What can I say?” Grant protests, laughing. “I have sensitive feet. A year in the same pair of socks…dude, can you imagine the bacteria that my feet would be growing?” He looks up and sees that I’ve joined them. His face breaks into a smile as he lunges at me, embracing me in a hug. I chuckle, wondering how many drinks he’s already had.
“Guys, this is an old college friend of mine, Max. Max, this is Brett, Jake, and Harry.” I shake the guys’ hands and earn myself a slap on the back. Someone pushes a glass full of beer into my hands.
“Drink fast and catch up, dude.” Brett laughs. I can tell from his glazed eyes that he’s had a few already too. “How long have you been in town?”
“A few weeks,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “Just settling in and finding my feet,
you know?”
He nods. “I’m in the Marines, so I move all over the place. I know how hard it is to pack your life up and move it somewhere else. You married? Girlfriend?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Ah, nice and easy then. Nothing worse than uprooting a whole family. I’ve got a wife and a couple of kids. You’d think I moved them to fucking Africa, the way they complained.”
“They complained because you’re an ass about it.” Grant laughs, slugging him in the arm. “Trust me, when those two little girls become teenagers it’s gonna be a thousand times worse.”
“When they’re teenagers, I think I’ll move them on purpose just to take out any undesirable boyfriends.” Brett chuckles. “Emma came home the other day talking about a boy she’s got a crush on. She’s fucking eight!” He rolls his eyes at me. “You got kids?” he asks me, sizing me up.
I shake my head and he laughs.
“Good move, dude. Stay away from that gauntlet for as long as you can.”
“Max here is actually the principal at Emma’s school,” Grant proudly states, throwing his arm around my shoulder.
“Right, you’re the new guy I’ve been hearing so much about,” he says, a grin slowly spreading across his mouth.
“From your daughter?” I ask. I can’t say I actually remember meeting Emma yet.
“No, my wife is on the PTA. You’ve got a mixed crowd there, man.”
I’m about to ask what he means by that when we’re interrupted by another one of their friends who has just turned up. They cheer and pat him on the back. I get the feeling this ‘friend’ doesn’t make it out to many guys’ nights.
We have a few more rounds, and the more I drink, the more I’m enjoying myself. Grant’s friends are the total opposite of him. They’re loud and crude but loads of fun. I sit just off to where most of the guys stand, nursing my beer as I listen to them argue about anything and everything.
“I haven’t seen you around here.”
I glance to my left and see an attractive blond woman smiling at me. She stumbles forward, tripping over her own feet, but somehow manages to catch hold of the table. I chuckle, amused at the way she’s grinning at me like nothing happened.
“Those I see every week, but you…I’d remember a sexy face like yours.”
“You look like you’re struggling in those heels,” I say, raising my eyebrows. “Maybe you should sit down?”
She nods and sits down next to me, her eyes glazed over. I don’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t an invitation to join me.
We chat for a little while and I buy her a soda, my lame attempt to try and sober her up a bit.
To be honest, I’m flattered by her attention, but I have no intention of taking this any further than a little bit of harmless flirting. She’s cute and all that, but she’s clearly inebriated and in no condition to hook up with anyone. Not that one-night stands are my kind of thing. Been there, done that. That doesn’t mean I want to see the poor girl taken advantage of, especially when I see a few of Grant’s unattached friends looking her over.
