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Second, he in turn took considerable time (one had to be patient) insisting that no way did she look anywhere near that age. He assured them that they had to be pulling his leg—that they looked at minimum two to three years younger than they’d just stated.
Finally, they ended up pulling out their ID just to prove him wrong, and to no doubt, reinforce the point they subconsciously felt he was trying to make and that they would age well and thus, were acceptable long-term mates.
Once the real number was on the table, he always managed to feign shock. It was in his favor to let them win. Worked like a charm every time. Side note, the older the woman, the less the need for proof in the form of identification, but nonetheless, the age tactic still tipped the odds in favor greatly that he would get laid, and he was always more than generous in his subtraction.
Anyhow, twenty it was today, despite his slight reservation. At thirty-five, twenty just seemed so young. But Myles couldn’t really help himself. He’d been desperate for variety over the past few months. So, when she’d smiled at him with that hopeful, naive look upon her face and batted her eyes in a terrible attempt at playing coy, Myles knew he wouldn’t have to work too hard for this one. And he didn’t. He spent fifteen minutes listening to her life story, combined with future aspirations. There was five more minutes’ worth of stories told about the time he spent in the military—all of which were true, of course—despite his hearty appetite for one night stands, one thing Myles didn’t believe in was lying. Twenty minutes in—and he had her up against the bathroom door. A mere fifteen minutes after that, she had positioned herself so close to him that she was partway in his seat and was yapping in his ear as he pretended to doze off into oblivion. When he felt the pull of the bus slowing and coming to a stop, he felt himself literally exhale in relief.
As soon as the bus came to a complete stop, and not a second later, Myles stood, grabbed his duffle bag and carefully made sure to avoid eye contact.
She stood abruptly. This was going to be more difficult than he’d hoped. It somehow always was. “Hey. Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in it,” her shrill voice demanded.
Myles stared at the line that had quickly formed in the aisle and wished he’d chosen a seat closer to the front. “I don’t have a phone.”
“Oh, come on, I’m not falling for that!”
“Okay, then don’t.”
“You know, I really like you,” she said as she fished around in her oversized bag. She pulled a card out and pushed it in his direction. “Here’s my number. Call me.”
Myles met her gaze then. Best to be direct, he thought. “I don’t think so.”
She scoffed. “Are you kidding me?”
Myles averted his gaze toward the front of the bus and wondered what the holdup was. He needed to get off this bus. Fast. “No.”
The girl turned in every direction and looked at the passengers around them. Myles presumed that this was in hopes that one of them might come to her defense. She shook her head slightly. “I don’t understand.”
Finally, the line began to move. He ushered her out into the aisle and placed his hand at the small of her back. This served two purposes. One, it proved he could be a gentleman despite what alarms were likely going off in her head. And two, the gesture calmed her by putting him in control. He understood that her type needed this more than others might.
“So, you’re serious? You’re really not going to call?” She turned and asked as they approached the door.
Myles could smell the fresh air and practically taste freedom. He pressed his hand in a little harder to remind her to keep moving. “That’s correct.”
As the girl stepped off the bus, she turned and watched as he did the same. She let her bag sink to the ground dramatically. “Well, why not?” She then began to cry. People were beginning to stare.
Myles acted quickly. He stepped forward and kissed her cheek. He pulled back, looked her in the eye before leaning in and placing his mouth against her ear. “Because you’re a beautiful, smart girl, and much too good for someone like me.”
She pulled back forcefully, wiped her eyes, and placed her hands on her hips. “That’s a bullshit excuse and you’re an asshole!” she shouted.
But Myles had already turned to go.
For the briefest of moments, he considered that perhaps his delivery could’ve been a little more subtle.
Myles knew he was never going to call, so he figured why lie?
He was many things, he thought to himself, but a liar wasn’t one of them.
Myles entered the dark, smoke-filled bar to find that not much had changed. From the music to the patrons to ol’ Sammy the bartender, it was in many ways as though he’d never left at all.
“Well, well, would ya look what the cat dragged in?” Sammy called out to everyone and no one before hastily slapping a whiskey sour on the bar. Myles dropped his bag at his feet and perched himself on the bar stool. He extended his hand, but Sammy one-upped him and reached in for a hug, slapping him on the back so hard he nearly choked. “It’s good to see you back here, man. Looks like the service has been treatin’ you well.”
Myles leaned back on the barstool. “Actually, I’m out.”
The man appeared confused. “You’re out. Ha! Nah, not you. You’re a lifer.” He waved his hand in the air to dismiss Myles. “Everyone around here always knew that about you, Ingram…with your big fancy medals and your name in the papers…”
Myles winced. It occurred to him that sometimes people weren’t ready for the truth and this time counted as one of them. “Well, nonetheless, I’m headed to Austin. On a different kind of assignment.”
The man laughed. “Top secret, eh? Well, hell, whaddaya say we get ya all liquored up and see how quick you forget it was ever a secret?”
