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Nudging Ingrid, I try to wiggle out from under her.“Ingrid, get up!”
Others around the fire glance at us as if lying on the ground is all in good fun.
She sits up and glances down at her empty cup.“Ugh.This dirt.”
“I’m ready to go.Let’s find a ride or ask people to move their cars.”Now that I’ve been licked by a pig, I’m ready to call it a night.I scramble to my feet and hold out my hand.“But you definitely shouldn’t drive.”
After dropping her keys in my hand, she shakes her head.“I’m not leaving right now.I’m going into the barn for a refill.”She shakes her empty plastic cup.“Want anything?”
“I’d rather go home, but I’ll settle for getting something to drink, I guess.”At least I have the keys, but I don’t even know where to start when it comes to asking people to move their cars.This place is crowded.
She wags her head back and forth.“Stay here.Meet people.That’s why you came.”She taps the guy standing a few feet away.“Hello, have you met my friend Jazzy?Like Jazz, but with aneat the end.”Why she feels the need to explain how to pronounce it after just saying the name is beyond me.But I don’t always understand Ingrid even when she’s sober.
Also, she’s the only person on the planet who calls me that.Personally, I’m not a fan of the nickname.
The guy’s smile gives me the creeps.“I haven’t.Jazzy.What a fascinating name.I’m John.”He’s in shorts and an untucked button-down, respectable looking, but his vibe is sleezy.
Ugh.“Hi.”
Where was this guy when I was being kissed by a pig?I didn’t see him offering to help me up.
I flash a smile that hopefully doesn’t look pained, then grab Ingrid’s arm.“Please hurry.”
She grins.“If you leave, I’m sure I can find a ride home.”
Mullet Guy most likely heard every word because he eases up beside Ingrid, and they walk toward the barn.Thankfully, the pig is in tow, and the skunk is still on his shoulder.
What she said makes me feel like I have permission to leave when I want.She probably meant with someone, but that’s not my plan.
No one here—oh wait.A good-looking cowboy, who is all by his lonesome, smiles when I glance his way.He’s chilling on a bench on the other side of the firepit, andI can only see him when I lean to my left.No way has he been there the whole time.I would’ve noticed.
The cowboy on the bench is a cutie.I lean to look past John, and the cute cowboy winks.If I were brave like Ingrid, I’d march up to him and introduce myself.But with my luck, I’d make it two steps, then tumble into the fire.And the pig would come bolting out of the barn to lick me again.Falling in front of lots of people is one of my skills, more of a talent really.People assume I’m graceful because I teach yoga, but that’s so far from the truth.I’m more like a newborn fawn on roller skates.
But before this night is over, I will at least say hello to Mr.Cute Cowboy.
John taps my arm.“What do you do?”
His friends have now shifted, and I’m surrounded by guys I don’t know.While some might love this situation, I don’t.Hopefully, Ingrid hurries back because this isn’t my idea of fun.And I’ll feel bad leaving without her.
“I teach art and gardening at a preschool.”I never mention yoga when I first meet guys.Talking about yoga always ends in comments about positions, and I’d rather avoid that whole discussion with this group.
“What about y’all?”I look around the circle, wondering how I can get the big guy in front of me to shift a little so that I have a better view of the cowboy.
All five of these guys look similar.Two are blond; the others have dark hair.But the haircuts are all pretty much the same, and based on what they are wearing, they all shop at the same place.
I’ve never really thought about my type, but I know who isn’t my type, and all five of them fall into that category.
One of the blond guys says, “I work in banking.”
“Accounting.”Two of them say at the same time.
John leans in close.“I run my own company.”
By the way he says it, I think he expects me to be impressed, so I smile.“How interesting.”
What he does might be super interesting, but the vibe he’s giving off weirds me out.I don’t want to show too much—or any—interest.
Another man strolls up and hands a can of off-brand soda to the guy next to him.Pass that to her, will ya?”
