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Shit, what’s wrong with me?
It has to be her eyes. I’ve never seen anything like them. And her lips. Soft. Pillowy. I’m suddenly willing to give up my right testicle to know what they taste like. What the hell is happening? Am I having an existential crisis? Nervous breakdown? This chick is no angel, more like the devil trying to get me to change my ways. And she seems to be winning. All I can think about is holding her, talking to her, taking her out.
“Jesus, who are you?” The words come blurting out. I place the back of my hand against my forehead. Do I have a fever? The bartender places my drink on the bar, and I take an impressive pull.
“Excuse me?” Her voice is soft and angelic, the sound of innocence banging on my door of damnation. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She eyes me warily—a look I’m not used to receiving from an attractive girl…or any female. I flip through my mental Rolodex for lines to smooth this over, so she doesn’t think I’m a complete freak, but everything that comes out is wrong.
“Yeah, just feel funny—no, I mean, I’m hungry—I mean…yeah, I’m hungry, but that’s not why—have you seen Twilight? Maybe we could go out sometime and watch—Jesus!” I grab my glass and drain it. That confirms it. She’s been sent straight from the devil to break me. I, Chase Steinberg, will not be broken by a chick.
A smile creeps across her face, revealing two dimples, and I fall farther under her spell.
She bites on her lower lip. “I’ve actually never seen it.”
I spit my drink out all over the bar. “What? Impossible! Everyone’s seen—” What the fuck am I doing? “I mean…I just thought all chicks were into that kind of shit.” I need to get out of here before she sucks away my soul…amongst other things. Shit, my best friend down below twitches at the thought. Those lips. Those innocent demon eyes—
“Bartender! I’ll take another. Actually—make it two.” I need to drown out these foreign sensations jostling inside my chest. Even her clothes are doing weird things to me, and she’s not even done up like she’s at a bachelorette party in dire need of my services. She’s dressed more casually in a pair of tight jeans, the two rips at her knees giving me a tease of her creamy skin, and a black tank top revealing her small, perky chest.
“Well, I’m not like other chicks. Anyway, sorry to bother you with my problems. I was just hoping—”
“I will.” The words shoot off my tongue before my brain cares to hear the rest of her question. When you have two heads thinking for you, one always comes through before the other.
“You will?” She looks surprised, but those lips—pure, soft lips—curl into a smile made from heaven, and I fall down the rabbit hole of all things her.
I sit straighter in my chair, brushing away the nonexistent wrinkles from my shirt. I have no idea why. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want. We can just sit here and talk if you want.” What the goddamn hell just came out of my mouth?
The bartender finally brings over my drinks. I snatch one glass and chug it, wincing at the burning in my throat, wondering who’s taken control of my mind and body. I’ve never in my life offered to just talk to a girl. At least not this kind of talking. And I just offered to listen!
I turn back to her. “Are you the devil?” Shit, that was rude. But also vital.
Her laugh is anything but evil, tickling every nerve-ending in my body. “I don’t think so. I’ve been known to disobey my God a time or two, but I’m definitely no devil.” Her teeth are white and perfect. I bet she brushes three times a day, up, down, left to right, just like that dental hygienist told me the night she was sucking—shit, focus. “Are you the devil?” she throws back, her curious eyes and tender smile telling me to shut the hell up and stop ruining this.
“Well, that depends. What kind of company are you looking for tonight?” There I am! Finally, laying down the first Chase Steinberg pick-up line. Phew. I was getting nervous there for a second.
Her eyes flutter as she leans forward, her knees brushing against mine. “I’m hoping for you to keep me company all night. If that’s something you can manage, I say we get out of here. If not, I’ll understand and be on my way.”
On her way? As in, she would walk out of this bar alone? Ditch her mission? Part of me wants nothing to do with just being her company. The big guy down below and I have rules. This one seems different. She deserves more than that type of company. But if I don’t say yes, what will she do? I can’t let her down. She looks so…lonely.
